Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 435: Soul Seal

Warlock Ch 435. Soul Seal

Damian's cracked lips twisted into a bitter, broken smile.

"Yeah… why not," he muttered darkly. "What's one more monster?"

With a final surge of defiance, he dug deep—deeper than ever before—and touched that wellspring of corrupted mana still coiled inside him. The Demon King's trapped soul hissed angrily within, but even it recoiled from what Damian was about to do.

With a shuddering breath, he forced himself upright, bones grinding painfully. Blood spilled fresh from reopened wounds, staining the ground. He staggered forward, each step agony. But he didn't stop. He couldn't.

Xhar'Thul, sensing Damian's intent, twisted its broken form toward him. The creature's molten eyes narrowed with a mocking glare. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

Damian didn't answer. He didn't have the breath to waste on words.

Instead, he lunged, blood and pain forgotten for a single, reckless heartbeat. His hand outstretched, clawing forward into the swirling dark energy emanating from the gaping wound in Xhar'Thul's chest. The world dissolved around him into searing agony as he reached directly for the creature's exposed mana core.

His fingers made contact.

And his world erupted in torment.

The mana core flared violently, its monstrous power pouring directly into Damian's battered form, flooding him in a torrent of chaotic, brutal magic. It felt like molten steel pouring through his veins, burning him from the inside out.

Damian screamed—raw, primal, the sound tearing free from his throat. Every nerve in his body lit up in unbearable agony, every fiber of his being crying out in protest. The Demon King's trapped soul writhed in his core, its rage eclipsed only by its desperation to escape this new, monstrous power flooding their shared cage.

"Damian!" someone cried out—Evelyn, distant yet somehow crystal-clear through the pain.

He didn't respond, couldn't even acknowledge her voice as he focused everything he had left on the spell.

"[Soul Seal]!" Damian roared again, voice breaking, tears of blood streaming down his cheeks.

[Soul Sacrifice Triggered]

You have used 95% of your soul essence to invoke [Soul Seal] on a Mythic Entity.

WARNING: Irreversible backlash imminent.

Target: [Xhar'Thul – The World-Chain Ravager]

Status: RESTRAINED (87%) – RESISTING (Aggressive)

[Soul Seal – Phase III Initiated…]

Binding the Myth Core…

[WARNING: Host body integrity below 12%]

Proceeding with Forced Imprint.

The creature's mana core pulsed violently once more, resisting. Damian felt it push back, wave after crushing wave, each blow threatening to tear him apart at the seams. His vision blackened, edges fading, consciousness barely holding.

But still, he gripped it. Held it. Refused to let go.

"You—" Xhar'Thul's voice distorted, weaker, confused, enraged. "What… are you—"

Damian screamed again, louder, rawer, voice echoing through the sky as he forced the core into submission. His mana surged one final, desperate time, the remains of his shattered core flaring brightly.

"I'm taking you with me, bastard!" he roared.

With a final, desperate surge, Damian locked the creature's core inside his own.

A deafening silence fell.

Xhar'Thul froze, its monstrous form suddenly still. The fires consuming it dimmed, sputtered, and then vanished entirely. The towering beast teetered precariously, its massive form swaying drunkenly. And then, without ceremony, it collapsed. The earth trembled violently beneath the impact, dust and ash clouding the air, choking everything in a haze of smoke.

Damian's body crumpled like a puppet with its strings severed, falling limply from the sky. He hit the broken ground hard, rolling painfully, coming to rest amidst the shattered ruins. Dust settled slowly around him, soft, quiet.

Pain pulsed through every fiber of his being—agony so intense it felt surreal, distant. Blood pooled rapidly beneath him, warm and thick.

Yet somehow, impossibly, he was still alive.

[System Notification]

[Soul Seal Successful]

[Legendary Creature: Xhar'Thul, World-Chain Ravager – Soul Locked Successfully]

[Your Soul and Mana Core Have Merged and Stabilized]

[Level MAX Achieved – All Attributes Enhanced to SSS]

[Warning: Severe Physical Damage Detected – Recovery Urgently Required]

Damian felt the raw power still churning within him, burning him slowly from the inside. His heart thudded weakly in his chest, each beat slower, more painful.

Around him, the chaos slowly dispersed. Enemy forces fled, broken and scattered. Allies stumbled, dazed, confused, but victorious. The battle was won—but at what cost?

"Damian!" Evelyn's voice broke the silence, frantic, terrified.

She appeared through the dust, sprinting desperately toward him, tripping over debris. Her pale face streaked with blood and soot, her violet eyes wide, frantic. She collapsed beside him, trembling hands clutching at his broken form.

"Please—Damian!" she begged, voice trembling violently, tears streaming unchecked down her face. "Don't—don't leave me! Drink this, please!"

She pressed a healing potion desperately against his cracked, bloodied lips. Damian tried—he tried so hard—but instead he coughed, choking weakly on blood and potion alike. It dribbled uselessly down his chin, mingling with blood and ash.

"Can't… can't swallow…,"Damian rasped, barely audible.

"Stop talking!" she sobbed, panic rising. Her eyes darted around, frantic, searching for someone, anyone, who could help. "Someone—please—!"

But Damian's eyes were already glazing over, distant and unfocused. His chest barely rose and fell with shallow, ragged breaths. Each inhale was weaker, shallower, a fragile promise that the next breath might never come.

Evelyn held him close, panic screaming through every muscle, every vein. Her hands trembled violently, covered in his blood and her tears, mingling together, staining the ruined earth around them.

"Damian…" she whispered brokenly, pleading desperately as if her voice could tether him to the living world. "Please, don't go… You promised me—you promised us…"

Damian heard her distantly, her voice barely breaking through the deepening silence inside him. He felt like he was sinking, drifting further from reality, slipping deeper into darkness, memories blurring with the present. It was getting harder to hold on, each heartbeat weaker than the last.

"Move," came a sharp, commanding voice behind her. Victoria knelt swiftly at Damian's other side, her once-pristine gown torn and bloodstained, her normally fierce eyes now wide and panicked. Without hesitation, she bit deep into her wrist, her fangs tearing open pale flesh, crimson blood spilling forth.

"Damian, you're not dying here. Not today," she growled fiercely, pressing her bleeding wrist against his lips. "[Well of Blood]—take it, Damian. Take my strength. Take everything!"