Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 365: Suicidal Training [Part 2]

"Seems the talk has to wait," he muttered, his voice flat but oddly calm.

In one smooth movement, he summoned it.

[Hellfire Spear]

Flames burst to life in his hand, twisting and solidifying into a spear of molten crimson. Its surface pulsed with burning runes, and the heat it radiated made Selena take a step back.

Damian didn't just throw it this time.

He gripped the weapon with both hands and charged forward.

Not like a warlock.

Not like someone casting from behind barriers and controlling demons from afar.

No—this was close combat. This was rage. Precision. Violence.

This was a battle mage.

This was something else entirely.

The monsters lunged.

Cerberians again, mixed with another set of strange, vine-armored beasts that Selena didn't even recognize from her studies. Their levels had to be high. Any one of them would've been enough to send a standard-ranked mage running. But Damian didn't even flinch.

He slammed into them like a storm.

The spear spun in his hands like a dance, each sweep igniting the air in arcs of flame. One of the Cerberians lunged at him and he spun low, ducking beneath the bite, then drove the spear up into its gut.

It exploded into flames.

Another monster struck from behind.

[Spectral Surge]

Damian's form blurred—again and again—and reappeared just behind the attacker, sliding the spear along its spine and cleaving through vines, bark, and molten flesh.

Selena could only watch.

And her heart ached.

"A warlock…" she murmured, eyes locked on the way he moved—how he didn't cast from a distance but threw himself into the fight. "A battle mage... a magi... a blood mage…"

She didn't know how to define him anymore.

Her voice barely a whisper: "What are you, Damian?"

Every swing, every spell, every reckless dash—it wasn't just combat.

It was something deeper.

Like he was venting.

Like he was bleeding himself dry on purpose.

Pain in motion.

She could see it now. Not just in how he moved, but in the way he took hits without flinching, how he let the enemy close—too close—like he needed the pain to feel real. Like he was chasing it. Like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

Selena's chest tightened.

"And it still hurts, doesn't it?" she whispered.

The way he had looked in the forest when she first met him—wounded, but standing. Angry, but calm. She had seen that same darkness in his eyes back then. The kind that didn't come from arrogance or cruelty, but from loss. From being alone for too long.

She thought maybe it had healed.

But now...

Now she realized that the pain had never gone anywhere.

It just learned how to hide behind bigger spells.

Damian dashed forward again, this time spinning mid-air and unleashing [Infernal Javelins]. The blazing spears formed around him and shot outward, exploding on impact, lighting up the training hall like a second sunrise. The barrier between them flickered from the impact, but held firm.

She flinched from the blast, her hands trembling as the mana waves washed over her.

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When the smoke cleared, Damian stood in the center of the carnage, shoulders heaving, arms slack. His clothes were burned, torn in places. Blood soaked his side where something had landed a lucky hit—but he didn't seem to notice.

One of the monsters, barely clinging to life, growled and started to charge.

Damian didn't even look.

[Blood Manipulation]

He flicked his wrist, and the creature's body locked up. Blood burst from its pores in a fine mist, then compressed into a spear that slammed back into its chest. The beast crumpled mid-run, dead before it hit the floor.

Silence.

Damian stood there.

Breathing hard.

Still.

Selena took a step forward.

The shadow servant by the door stirred slightly, but didn't stop her. She didn't cross the barrier. Just moved closer—close enough that her voice could carry without magic.

"Damian…" she said softly.

He didn't turn around.

"You don't have to keep doing this alone," she said, her voice barely audible. "You know that, right?"

Silence.

She bit her lip, stepping even closer. "You don't have to keep hurting just to feel like you're still here."

Still, nothing.

She exhaled slowly. "I can't fight like you. I don't have your power. Or your scars. But I'm still here. And I meant it when I said I wanted to understand you."

A long pause.

Then finally, his voice.

"…I know."

It wasn't much.

But to Selena, it was everything.

She stood there as Damian turned back toward the center of the room, his expression unreadable, his back still carrying the weight of a hundred memories she'd never seen.

Selena didn't move. Didn't speak. The barrier still hummed between them, separating her from the battlefield—and from him. But in that moment, she realized there were other barriers too. Invisible ones. The kind made of choices and regrets, of things said too late and things never said at all.

Damian didn't look at her. He just kept staring ahead, shoulders still, hands clenched at his sides. His voice, when it came, was low but clear, slicing through the mana-charged air.

"But I still have a lot of things to do," he said. "I need to get stronger for it."

Selena swallowed.

"Because…" he paused, exhaling a shaky breath, "I don't want to repeat the same things."