Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 142: Sleep is For The Weak

Warlock Ch 142. Sleep is For The Weak

"Sleep is for the weak," Cassius said, folding his arms. "Warlocks make sacrifices. You know that better than anyone."

"Sacrifices? Sacrifices?" Damian pointed at the books again. "This isn't a sacrifice; this is punishment! You're punishing me for surviving that ridiculous shadow gauntlet!"

Cassius tilted his head thoughtfully. "Would you prefer another round with the shadows?"

Damian froze, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to decide whether it was worth continuing the argument. Finally, he groaned and grabbed the top book from the stack. "Fine. But if I pass out tomorrow, it's on you."

Cassius smirked, clearly unfazed. "If you pass out, I'll simply wake you. Warlocks don't quit."

Damian muttered something distinctly unflattering under his breath. His disheveled appearance, combined with his grumbling, made him look less like a warlock and more like an overworked parent wrangling a group of unruly children.

"Don't forget to write notes," Cassius called after him.

Damian shot him a glare over his shoulder. "You're the worst, you know that?"

"I know. But, here you are," Cassius replied, settling back into his chair with a satisfied smile. "Still learning, still growing. You're welcome."

Damian didn't bother responding, instead dropping into the chair with a dramatic sigh. He stared at the first cover, the elegant script almost mocking him.

"Great," Damian muttered to himself. "Just another day in the life of Kaelan Voidweaver's reincarnation-slash-punching bag. Can't wait for tomorrow." Damian shot Cassius a withering look. "Fenrith."

The three-headed wolf appeared in a swirl of shadowy mist, his fur still a mess from the earlier chaos. The shadows' relentless tugging and mischievous antics had left the usually majestic Fenrith looking more like an overworked draft animal. His middle head growled low, while the left head snapped at the air as if to chase off lingering annoyances. The right head simply huffed, exuding exhaustion and irritation.

"Don't worry, buddy," Damian said, rubbing the wolf's three heads affectionately. The tension in Fenrith's posture eased slightly, though his middle head still looked like it wanted to bite something. "I didn't summon you to fight this time. We're just going for a walk."

Cassius, who was sitting cross-legged on his conjured chair, raised an eyebrow. "A walk? You mean you summoned him to carry your books."

Damian turned toward him, glaring. "Oh, shut up, you sadistic mentor! Let me live."

He stuffed the books into a bag, muttering complaints under his breath about how the stack was taller than Fenrith's legs. Once the bag was secured, he slung it over Fenrith's broad back. The wolf didn't protest, though his right head let out a resigned sigh. Damian patted his flank. "Thanks, pal. You're the best."

Cassius leaned back, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Aren't you interested in talking about Victoria or Varak first?"

Damian adjusted the straps on Fenrith's load, his expression sharpening slightly. "Got something for me?"

"About Victoria?" Cassius replied, his voice calm. "Yes. I've found out where she is, where she stays, and what she's currently doing."

Damian smirked, unable to resist a jab. "Do you know if she's taking a bath or not?"

Cassius flicked his gaze toward Damian, his expression unreadable for a moment. "What? Do you want to peek at her taking a bath?"

Damian's smirk froze. He straightened, his face a mix of shock and indignation. "You know about that?!"

Cassius snorted, his tone dry as a desert. "Of course not. Does it even matter?"

Damian exhaled loudly, waving off the comment. "Fine. What about the other thing? You know, the whole 'is this a trap' question?"

Cassius's tone grew serious, though his eyes still carried a faint glint of mischief. "I was just about to send my shadow spies to investigate. Wanna come with me?"

Damian caught the faint smirk tugging at the corners of Cassius's lips. It was a familiar look, one that he hadn't seen in what felt like lifetimes. The smirk that meant trouble. The smirk that meant they were about to do something dangerous—and probably fun. It reminded Damian of their old days.

A matching smirk spread across Damian's face. "Count me in. I've got a bunch of shadow servants now. Might as well put them to good use."

Cassius stood, his cloak billowing slightly as he flicked his fingers. Two shadows materialized at his sides, their forms sleek and sharp. Damian, meanwhile, called upon one of his own—the Stalker Phantom he'd recently bonded with. The creature emerged from the floor, its dark, misty form blending seamlessly with the dim lighting of the hall.

"Only one?" Cassius teased, raising an eyebrow. "I expected more from the great Damian Blackthorn."

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Damian rolled his eyes. "I'm still getting used to this, alright? Long-run summoning drains me, and I'm not about to collapse from overexertion because you dared me."

Cassius chuckled. "Fair enough. Let's move."

Damian watched them vanish, then turned to Cassius. "Alright, my part's done. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm heading home before you find another 'learning opportunity' to throw at me."

Cassius gave a mockingly solemn nod. "Don't strain yourself, apprentice."

Damian rolled his eyes, then gestured for Fenrith to follow him. The wolf padded after him, his three heads alert as they left the hall and stepped into the crisp evening air.

The walk back to Damian's home was slow and leisurely, a welcome break after the chaos of the day. Fenrith carried the bag of books without complaint, though his middle head occasionally growled when a low-level shadow servant darted too close. Damian patted his side reassuringly.

"Thanks for putting up with this, buddy," Damian said, his voice softer now that they were alone. "I know it's been a rough day."

Fenrith huffed, his right head turning to nuzzle Damian's arm in a rare display of affection. The gesture made Damian smile despite himself.

"You know," he said, shooting a look at Fenrith, "sometimes I swear Cassius just gets a kick out of watching me suffer. I mean, I know he means well… but let's be real, he's definitely throwing a bit of payback my way for all the times I teased him."

Fenrith's middle head gave a low growl of agreement, and Damian chuckled. "Yeah, I thought you'd feel the same. Still, he's not wrong. If I'm going to take on Varak—or deal with Victoria—I need to be ready."

They passed a small park, the sound of rustling leaves and distant water soothing his nerves. For a moment, Damian let his mind wander, his thoughts returning to the fragments of memory he'd been chasing. The questions still gnawed at him. 'Why did I kill Victoria's husband? Was it really me, or was it something else?'

He sighed, shaking his head. "One step at a time," he muttered, echoing the mantra he'd been repeating all day.

Fenrith's left head barked softly, as if in agreement, and Damian smiled. Whatever the answers were, he'd find them. For now, he was just grateful for the quiet—and the company.

The peaceful walk was exactly what he needed after the day's chaos. But, as always, peace didn't last long for Damian.

"We meet again, warlock."