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Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 150: That’s What Makes Him… Him
Warlock Ch 150. That's What Makes Him… Him
The kitchen filled with the warm, soothing aroma of the potion brewing on the stove. The herbs steeped in the water, releasing their essence into the liquid, which shimmered faintly with a soft golden hue. Evelyn moved, adding each ingredient in measured amounts. Her mind was focused, yet part of her kept drifting back to Damian.
'He's so stubborn,' she thought with a faint smile. 'But that's also what makes him… him.'
She poured the finished drink into a mug before placing it on a tray alongside a small plate of biscuits. She knew Damian wouldn't ask for help—he never did—but that didn't mean he didn't need it. Evelyn had learned to read between the lines with him, to pick up on the subtle signs of his exhaustion. He could be as stubborn as a mule, but even Damian had limits.
And knowing him, he'd push himself right to the edge before admitting he was tired. Maybe not even then. So she decided to intervene, just a little, and headed upstairs with the tray.
Once she approached his room, she paused at the door, raising her hand to knock. But the sound of flipping pages stopped her. Not just flipping—rapid flipping. Her brow furrowed, curiosity overriding her intent as she pushed the door open slightly.
What she saw made her freeze in the doorway, stunned.
Damian sat at his desk, surrounded by a fortress of books. But he wasn't just reading—he was devouring the information. His movements were fluid yet fast, almost mechanical. His eyes, faintly glowing with the energy of his Mana, darted across the pages at a speed that shouldn't have been possible. Each time he finished a page, his hand shot out to flip it.
To anyone else, it might have looked like he was playing around, flipping through books aimlessly. But Evelyn knew better. She could see the intensity in his expression, the focus in his glowing eyes. He wasn't skimming—he was absorbing.
It reminded her of someone.
'Kaelan.'
Kaelan had read like this too—like a man possessed. He had always been an anomaly, a fast learner with a seemingly endless capacity for knowledge. What had made him truly dangerous wasn't just his power but his ability to take in information faster than anyone else and apply it with unnerving precision.
And now, here Damian was, doing the same thing.
'He was, he is', she thought, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. No matter how much he changed, there were parts of Kaelan that would always be part of Damian.
Evelyn hesitated, unsure whether to interrupt. She didn't want to break his concentration—not when he was so engrossed, so completely in his element. Instead, she leaned against the doorframe, watching him with a mix of admiration and concern.
His Mana swirled faintly around him. She could feel the energy in the room, almost like a hum in the air. It wasn't chaotic or wild. It was controlled, disciplined. Yet it was intense enough to be almost overwhelming.
'How does he do this?' she wondered. 'How does he push himself so far without burning out?'
She stayed there for what felt like an eternity, the tray still in her hands. She didn't call out to him, didn't move closer. She just watched, silently hoping he would notice her. Because she knew that when he did—when his concentration broke—it would mean he'd hit his limit.
Damian flipped another page, his mind racing to keep up with the flood of information. It was almost too much, but he didn't let himself stop. The theories, the spells, the intricate diagrams—they were all pieces of a puzzle he couldn't afford to leave unfinished.
His Mana thrummed inside him, sharp and steady, fueling his focus. He wasn't just reading; he was learning, piecing together fragments of knowledge with a speed that surprised even him.
But even as he pushed forward, a faint voice in the back of his mind whispered caution.
'Slow down. You're pushing too hard.'
He ignored it, flipping another page. There was too much at stake to slow down. Victoria's mission, Cassius' training, the shadows lurking in the background—it all demanded more from him. More focus, more strength, more everything.
But then he felt it—a presence. Warm, familiar, and unmistakable. His focus wavered for just a moment, his eyes darting to the side.
There she was.
Evelyn stood in the doorway, a tray in her hands, her expression soft but watchful. She didn't say a word, but the concern in her eyes was clear.
Damian blinked, the glow fading from his eyes as his concentration broke. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, leaning back in his chair. His body felt heavier than it had moments ago, the fatigue catching up to him all at once.
"Evelyn," he said, his voice rough from disuse. "How long have you been standing there?"
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"Long enough," she replied, stepping into the room. Her tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of worry in her voice.
Damian ran a hand through his hair, offering a tired smile. "Guess I got carried away."
Evelyn set the tray down on the desk, her eyes scanning his face. "You think?" she said dryly, though her lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. "Damian, you look like you've been through a hurricane and decided to rebuild the city single-handedly."
Damian chuckled softly, reaching for the mug on the tray. The warmth seeped into his hands, grounding him. "I'm fine," he said automatically, his voice casual but tired.
"Uh-huh," Evelyn said, crossing her arms and giving him a pointed look. "You've been sitting here, flipping through books faster than anyone I've ever seen. That's not exactly 'fine,' Damian."
He took a sip of the drink, the flavors hitting his tongue like a soothing balm. It was sweet and herbal. "This is good," he murmured, avoiding her gaze.
"You're deflecting," she said, leaning against the edge of the desk. "You do that a lot, you know."