Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 238: Self Sacrifice

Warlock Ch 238. Self Sacrifice

"That's why I hid," Damian said, running a hand through his damp hair. "That's why I carved those sigils in the first place. To keep the Demon King in check. To keep everyone safe."

But it hadn't been enough. No matter how hard he had tried, no matter how many seals he had created, the Demon King's power had always found a way to break through. And now, even after all this time, it was still a part of him.

"Guess some things never change," Damian muttered bitterly.

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn't entirely true. Things had changed. He had changed. He wasn't the same person he had been back then. He was reborn now.

Cassius. Evelyn. Even Victoria.

They were all part of this now, whether he liked it or not. And maybe—just maybe—that was enough to tip the balance in his favor.

"Alright," Damian said, pushing himself off the wall. "Let's see what else this place has to offer."

His voice echoed softly in the underground room as he steadied himself, wiping the sweat off his brow. The air still felt thick, charged with the remnants of old magic. This wasn't just any workshop—it was a place where Kaelan had pushed the boundaries of magic itself, a place where rules didn't matter, and survival was the only goal.

Damian's eyes swept over the cluttered shelves, the cauldrons simmering with faint remnants of old potions, the tomes scattered across the floor as if someone had left in a hurry. But what caught his attention wasn't the mess or the lingering magic—it was something in the center of the room.

A crystal.

It hovered in midair, glowing faintly, about the size of his palm. The light it emitted pulsed gently, almost like a heartbeat. Damian took a cautious step toward it, his gaze locked on the floating object. There was something… familiar about it. The way it shimmered, the way it radiated energy—it wasn't just any ordinary crystal. He could feel it, deep down, in a way that went beyond logic.

He could feel his own Mana.

"What the hell…" he muttered under his breath, approaching it slowly. The closer he got, the stronger the connection felt. His heart pounded in his chest as realization began to creep in, piece by piece.

When he finally stood in front of it, he extended his hand toward the crystal, hesitating for just a moment before letting his fingers brush against its surface. The instant he made contact, a wave of energy surged through him, almost knocking him back.

He stumbled slightly but managed to stay upright, his eyes wide with shock. "Wait…" he whispered, his mind racing. "So… it was me? I created the artifact?"

The idea sounded insane. Impossible. But as he stared at the crystal, felt the concentrated Mana thrumming inside it, he couldn't deny what his instincts were telling him. The shape of the crystal, the way it pulsed with energy—it was identical to the ancient artifact inside him now. The one that had imprisoned the Demon King's soul.

He laughed bitterly, a hollow sound that echoed through the room. "Right… that's why this place is so messy."

His gaze swept around the room again, and suddenly, everything made sense. The scattered tomes, the broken vials, the overturned cauldrons—it wasn't just the aftermath of experiments gone wrong. It was the result of desperation. Of someone—himself—who had run out of options and was willing to try anything to stop the inevitable.

He clenched his fists, the realization pressing down on him. He could picture it now—Kaelan, standing in this very room, knowing that he couldn't contain the Demon King's soul any longer. Knowing that if he didn't do something drastic, he would lose control completely.

"So I broke the cycle…" Damian muttered, his voice low. "I needed a real prison. One that could hold the Demon King's soul forever."

And that's what this crystal was. A prison. A vessel designed to contain something too dangerous to be left unchecked. But it wasn't just a prison—it was something more. Something forbidden.

He let out another bitter laugh. Of course… The other side of this artifact was a curse.

Immortality. That's what this artifact had given him. Not just a prison for the Demon King's soul, but a curse that bound him to life, forcing him to endure whatever came his way. And he knew, even back then, what that meant. He had known the kind of suffering that came with immortality. The endless years, the isolation, the pain of watching everything and everyone he cared about fade away while he remained.

And worse, he knew the magic community. They didn't see immortality as a gift—they saw it as a curse. And they knew how to make immortals suffer. How to make them wish for death but never be able to find it.

He clenched his jaw, his mind racing as he pieced together what had happened. He remembered the desperation, the fear, the need to find a solution before it was too late. And then, something clicked.

"The artifact was completed…" he muttered. "But I needed something more. I needed… a sacrifice."

His brow furrowed as he tried to recall the missing piece. Who had he sacrificed? What had he given up to activate the artifact? The answer danced just out of reach, teasing him, taunting him.

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And then, it hit him.

"Ah… I get it now." His voice was quiet, almost hollow, as the truth settled over him. "The flesh I sacrificed… was myself."

That's why he was reborn. That's why he had lost his memories. He hadn't just created the artifact—he had used it on himself. He had given up his own life, his own body, to seal the Demon King's soul and break the cycle once and for all.

"I was that desperate…" he whispered, his gaze fixed on the crystal. "I was willing to give up everything. My power, my identity… my very existence."

The realization left him feeling… strange. It wasn't sadness, exactly. It wasn't regret. It was something more complicated. A mix of pride and bitterness, of understanding and frustration.