NOVEL NEXT Chapter 63: Uninvited Guest
Warlock Ch 63. Uninvited Guest
[Magical Affinity Lv. 4: Increases the caster's ability to adapt to and master different types of magic through his bonds. 25% bonus to any magical abilities gained through contracts, with a chance to learn partner-exclusive spells.]
[Dark Bolt Lv. 4: Fires a concentrated blast of dark energy that deals heavy damage to enemies. +50% damage compared to Lv. 1, now has a chance to inflict Fear status on enemies for 4 seconds.]
Mana Power: B+
Cassius, still standing in the same spot, finally unfolded his arms and stepped forward. His expression was calm, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—something Damian couldn't quite place.
"You're improving," Cassius said, his voice as neutral as ever.
Damian let out a weak laugh, his legs barely holding him up. "Improving? I nearly died, like, a dozen times just now!"
Cassius shrugged, his lips curving into the faintest smirk. "Yet you didn't."
Damian groaned, rolling his eyes. "Great. I'm still alive. Awesome."
But even as he complained, there was a part of him that felt proud. He had survived. He had fought a creature that was way above his level and won. And more than that—he had learned something about himself. Something about the way he fought, the way he moved. It was almost like his body knew what to do before he did.
Cassius's eyes lingered on Damian for a moment longer, as if analyzing every movement, every reaction. He was studying him—just like before.
Damian's breath finally began to steady, and he turned to face Cassius fully, his brow furrowed. "What's going on with me? Why does my body... react like this? It's not just instincts. It's something else."
Cassius's eyes didn't betray much, his expression calm, almost too calm. "React like what?"
Damian hesitated, unsure how to put it into words. "Like I knew exactly what I was doing. Like... I've done this a thousand times before. My body just moved, and I knew what to do, even when it felt like I was at a dead end." His voice trailed off, the confusion weighing heavy on him. It wasn't natural. It couldn't be.
Cassius remained silent for a long moment, his piercing gaze locked on Damian. He was studying him, just like before, but there was something else there—something Damian couldn't quite figure out. Finally, Cassius spoke, his voice low and measured, as if he was choosing each word carefully. "That's something you'll need to figure out on your own, Damian. But you're right—there's more to this than just instincts."
Damian clenched his fists, frustration bubbling up inside him. "Then what is it? Why can't you just tell me?"
Cassius didn't flinch. "Is it in the books I gave you?"
Damian blinked, taken aback by the question. "No, but—"
"Then why are you asking me?" Cassius cut him off, his tone sharp.
Damian resisted the urge to groan. Cassius was like some irresponsible teacher who threw books at him and expected him to figure it all out on his own. Sure, he was learning, but half the time it felt like he was stumbling in the dark, with Cassius offering just enough guidance to keep him alive. Barely.
Cassius crossed his arms. "If it's not in the books, then it's something you'll have to learn through experience. You can't expect to be spoon-fed every answer."
Damian huffed, wanting to argue but knowing it would get him nowhere. Cassius wasn't the type to coddle anyone. He taught by pushing—hard—and if he didn't figure it out, that was his problem. It was frustrating, but Damian had to admit, it was working. Slowly.
Cassius tilted his head slightly. "Ready to continue?"
Damian's eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait, what? I just fought a level 50 monster! At least let me catch my breath."
Cassius's expression didn't change. "You don't get breaks in the real world, Damian. Do you think your enemies will wait for you to rest?"
Damian wanted to scream. "Yeah, but we're training, not in the middle of a life-or-death battle!"
Cassius raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the protest. "No breaks."
Just as Damian was about to argue further, a knock echoed from the heavy wooden door at the far side of the room. Both he and Cassius turned toward it.
Cassius flicked his wrist, and the door swung open, revealing a shadowy figure standing in the doorway. It wasn't one of the powerful, terrifying servants that had filled the room earlier. This one was smaller, weaker. Its voice was low and ethereal. "Master Cassius, you have a guest."
Cassius didn't even hesitate. "Reject them."
The shadow wavered slightly, then spoke again. "It is Mrs. Bloodrose."
For the first time, Damian saw Cassius's calm facade crack. His lips tightened into a thin line, and he clicked his tongue in clear annoyance. "We'll take a break," he said, his tone begrudging.
Damian almost collapsed from relief, a sense of euphoria washing over him. 'A break. Finally!' He could feel his body sagging with exhaustion, and even Fenrith seemed to let out a satisfied huff, his massive wolf form visibly relaxing.
Cassius glanced at Damian. "Tell your servant to rest."
"Right," Damian said quickly, extending his hand toward Fenrith. "Return."
Fenrith's three heads dipped in unison before the massive wolf vanished into a swirl of dark energy, returning to the space inside Damian.
Cassius watched the interaction with an unreadable expression, but something about the way he looked at Damian made him uneasy. It wasn't judgmental, but it wasn't approving either. Just... observing.
Damian frowned. "What?"
Cassius didn't respond, turning on his heel and heading toward the door without another word. Damian stood there for a moment, staring after him, feeling like there was something unsaid lingering in the air. But as usual, Cassius wasn't going to offer any explanations.
'Of course not.'
Sighing, Damian followed, his legs heavy with fatigue. His mind raced, thinking about what had just happened. His reaction time, the way he'd known how to fight, how to dodge, even how to land a proper hit—it all felt like muscle memory, but that couldn't be right. He was still new to all of this, still figuring it out. But during that fight, it had felt natural, like he'd been fighting for years.