Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 215: My Only Chance!

Warlock Ch 215. My Only Chance!

With his enemies temporarily incapacitated, Damian quickly moved in. He unleashed [Void Rift], creating a massive swirling void beneath the feet of the ensnared vampires. The spell was silent but deadly, the void's pull strong enough to tear apart anything within its grasp. Once the vampires were consumed by the rift, He checked the area for more threats and clicked his tongue. "I should take [Silence] spells before missions," he muttered under his breath, his frustration evident. 'But nope, here I am. Too late now,' hr thought.

Sliding into the shadows like a serpent, Damian pressed forward, his movements calculated and silent. The manor's halls were a labyrinth of ornate architecture and oppressive silence, every corner potentially hiding an enemy. His senses were sharp, his gaze scanning for wards or signs of movement. Occasionally, he stopped to hide, pressing his back against a wall as patrols passed by, his heart pounding in the moments of suspense.

The distant sound of voices drew him onward. Damian crouched low, his hand brushing against the cold marble floor as he crept closer. The voices grew louder—angry and authoritative. He slowed his breathing, positioning himself behind a pillar that gave him a partial view of the source.

There he was.

Varak.

The vampire general cut an imposing figure, tall and broad-shouldered, his presence radiating raw power. His deep crimson armor gleamed under the flickering torchlight. His face, pale and chiseled, bore a deep scar across his left cheek. His eyes glowed a malevolent red, like embers smoldering in the depths of his fury. His dark hair was slicked back, a sharp contrast to the predatory smile that tugged at his lips even as he grumbled.

A high-ranking vampire knelt before him, flanked by a hulking demon with twisted horns and a smirk of disdain. Varak's voice was low but laced with anger. "How convenient of Victoria to sit back on her throne, as if all of this is a mere spectacle," he sneered, pacing back and forth. "She thinks herself untouchable. But we know better, don't we?" He hissed in disdain.

The kneeling vampire stammered, "M-my lord, the forces at the gate are formidable. Seraphis—"

Varak raised a hand, silencing him with a sharp glare. "Seraphis is nothing but a pawn, easily sacrificed. And Victoria..." He paused, his gaze narrowing. "Her time will come."

Damian clenched his fists, leaning slightly to get a better view. Memories struck him like a lightning bolt, fragmented but vivid. He could see himself—no, not himself, but Kaelan, his past self. The night Victoria's husband died replayed in flashes: the cold, calculated strike, the shock in the man's eyes as life left him.

But there was more. Varak had been there, his blade aimed at Kaelan's throat. The fight had been brutal, chaotic, and in the end, Varak had escaped, leaving Kaelan battered and victorious—but not before the assassination attempt had revealed the truth.

Victoria's husband had orchestrated it.

Damian's jaw tightened as he forced the memories away. The past was a wound that hadn't fully healed, and now Varak stood before him—a living reminder of that unfinished chapter.

Varak's voice pulled him back to the present. "Ensure the wards are strengthened. I want no interruptions." He turned to the demon. "And you—prepare the blood mages. If Victoria wants a spectacle, I'll give her one she'll never forget."

The demon grinned, his jagged teeth catching the light. "As you command, my lord."

Damian knew he had to act, but not now. This wasn't the time to take on Varak directly. He needed to regroup with Evelyn and Cassius, to coordinate their assault. Taking a deep breath, he activated [Observation], locking onto Varak's stats.

Varak, Vampire General

Level: 197

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Rank: SSS

Skills: [Blood Control Lv. 10], [Crimson Veil Lv. 9], [Vampiric Surge Lv. 8], [Dark Blade Lv. 9], [Ward Mastery Lv. 8]

Weaknesses: Holy Damage, Sunlight Exposure

Affinities: Darkness, Blood

Damian exhaled quietly. "Triple S? Great," he whispered to himself. "No wonder Victoria wanted us to play this smart."

He glanced at the enchanted ring on his finger, ready to whisper through it and alert Cassius and Evelyn to Varak's location. But before he could send the message, the sharp echo of hurried footsteps filled the corridor. Damian froze, his instincts screaming at him to remain hidden.

A group of soldiers burst into the hall, bowing quickly before speaking. "General Varak! There's an intruder in the west wing!"

Damian's mind raced. 'They found Cassius.' His jaw tightened as Varak's expression twisted into one of fury.

"Kill them," Varak growled, his voice cold and commanding.

The two assistants exchanged brief glances before springing into action. The high-ranking vampire shimmered into a flurry of bats, disappearing through the far doorway, while the demon stalked out with a predatory grace, its hulking form vanishing into the shadows.

Damian's heart pounded. 'This is my chance.'

The hall was eerily silent now, save for the faint crackle of torches on the walls. Varak stood alone, his back to Damian as he poured over a map spread across a grand table. The vampire general seemed deep in thought, his scarred face lit by the flickering light. Damian could see the tension in his shoulders, the subtle clench of his jaw.

Damian's breath hitched as adrenaline surged through him. 'Focus, Damian. You've got one shot at this.' The only problem was the two guards in front of the door. They weren't exactly high-ranking threats—rank C vampires by the look of them—but even weaklings could ruin his plan if they raised the alarm. He adjusted his hood, the fabric brushing against his face like a comforting shield. He needed to be silent, precise, and ruthless.

He exhaled, a slow and measured release of tension, and reached out to the shadows in his mind. 'Stalker Phantoms…' he thought. Two transparent, wraith-like figures materialized beside him, their forms shifting like smoke caught in an unseen breeze. Their hollow eyes gleamed faintly as they awaited his command.