Chapter 422: You Have Seen Him
Whoosh
Gregor materialized near where Castor and Yara lay, his body covered in blood and swaying slightly.
Vash hung limp in his arms, the man’s body twisted at angles that shouldn’t exist. His chest barely moved as blood poured from wounds that covered every inch of visible skin.
Gregor lowered him carefully beside Castor and Yara, his movements gentle despite the exhaustion written across every line of his face.
Thud
Then he dropped to one knee, his own legs finally giving out.
"..."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Gregor’s eyes found Castor and Yara lying together, Yara’s white hair spread across Castor’s chest, both of them still breathing but clearly spent. His gaze lingered on their hair, the matching white that marked what had happened between them.
Castor’s eyes opened slowly, tracking to Gregor’s blood-covered face and his voice came out rough and barely above a whisper.
"The other two Shadow Kings... did they escape?"
Gregor’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides. "Yes." The word came out flat and bitter. "The moment the blackout ended... they just... they were gone before reinforcements could arrive."
Castor’s eyes closed again, processing that. When he spoke next, his voice was quieter.
"How many times did Vash die in that Domain?"
Gregor looked down at Vash’s broken body, his throat working like the words were stuck there. "I lost count." His voice cracked slightly on the admission. "He kept getting back up... kept throwing himself between them and me... and they kept killing him."
Castor’s fist clenched against the ground, knuckles going white.
"You used your domain again?" Gregor’s voice carried something that sounded like grief.
"It’s more like I was forced to..." Castor’s eyes closed, then opened again, focusing on Gregor with effort. "But yeah... I died." He turned his head slightly, looking at Yara’s unconscious form beside him. "And Yara shared half her life force with me."
Gregor said nothing, his expression showing he’d already suspected as much.
"You felt it as well, didn’t you?" Castor’s eyes met Gregor’s. "That moment... when our hearts..."
Gregor’s expression shifted, understanding flooding his features. His hand pressed against his own chest, remembering that heartbeat.
Thump
Like they were being forced to take notice of something awakening.
"Damian..." Gregor’s voice came out quiet. "Is he–"
"Yeah." Castor’s grip on Yara’s hand tightened. "He is."
****
Damian stood in the distance, his body completely still.
He’d seen everything.
Castor dying, his body giving out completely. Yara’s desperate attempt to save him, the white hair that marked them both now, permanent evidence of what she’d sacrificed.
Gregor and Vash arriving, Vash’s body more holes than flesh, still breathing somehow despite damage that would have killed anyone else permanently.
His fists clenched at his sides, nails cutting into his palms hard enough to draw blood.
’They almost died... All of them almost died because...’
He couldn’t finish the thought.
His boots moved without conscious decision, carrying him closer to where they sat, each step feeling heavier than the last
Their heads turned as he approached.
The moment Damian got close enough to see their faces, he stopped.
Gregor and Castor wore expressions too complex to name.
"..."
For a moment, nobody moved or spoke.
Then Gregor raised his hand, as a barrier materialized around them, translucent and shimmering, sealing them from the outside world and his voice came out quiet.
"So... you are the Bloodworth heir."
Damian’s eyes dropped to the ground, unable to meet their gazes. "...Yes."
Castor shifted slightly, his body moving with careful control. "Before the attack, when we told you about our background and the beggar... you asked us what the old beggar looked like."
His eyes locked onto Damian’s face.
"You have seen him, haven’t you?"
Damian’s hands clenched tighter as fresh blood ran from his palms.
Gregor whispered. "The strongest one who attacked today... the fourth Shadow King... he said something about you being a variable." His voice dropped lower. "And even the Death Cult Head is involved in trying to kill you."
Damian’s throat worked, his crimson eyes still fixed on the ground. When he spoke, the words came out rough.
Damian’s jaw worked, throat moving as he swallowed. "I have seen the old beggar." His voice came out barely above a whisper. "But not in this life."
Then he told them.
Not everything, but enough. About Alessio D’Rossi, about the memories from another world, about the old beggar in those memories, about Elizabeth’s visions and about feeling like a puppet dancing on strings he couldn’t see.
His voice stayed quiet throughout, factual and detached like he was discussing something that had happened to someone else.
Castor and Gregor listened without interrupting, their expressions shifting through shock, understanding, anger, and something more complex that didn’t have a name.
"..."
Damian stopped talking as silence fell again.
He looked up at the sky, at the dark clouds gathering overhead. Morning should have been breaking, the sun rising to burn away the night’s horrors. But thick storm clouds covered everything, turning the world grey and heavy.
’It’s about to rain...’
"That’s how I knew Elizabeth was in danger last time." His voice sounded distant even to his own ears. "The beggar’s words from Alessio’s memories... they warned me."
Castor sighed, the sound carrying decades of exhaustion. His eyes found Yara’s face, traced the white hair that matched his own now.
"You know..." His voice came out rough. "When you were about to die... my whole body was out of control." His weathered hands trembled. "I was forced to use the Domain and forced to burn my life force. My life was over... I died."
His arms wrapped around Yara carefully, pulling her close against his chest.
"And Yara..." He didn’t finish, couldn’t finish. Just held her, his aged face pressing against her white hair.
Then his eyes lifted to meet Damian’s.
"I didn’t know how to feel about this. I’m only human after all." His jaw clenched. "It didn’t matter if we owed a debt to that beggar or not. From my point of view... your life just isn’t worth more than my friends."
Gregor’s head turned sharply. "Cast–"
"But now that I know the truth about you..." Castor cut him off, his weathered eyes never leaving Damian’s face. "It seems you are even more pitiful than us."
The words landed like physical blows.
"You were a puppet in your past life... and even now, you’re still dancing on strings someone else tied before you were even born."
Damian’s fists clenched so hard something cracked.
"You all should leave this place." The words came out strained, forced through a throat that wanted to close. "Go far away from me. If not–"
Gregor’s expression softened.
"I don’t think that will work." His voice came out firm despite the exhaustion bleeding through. "By now, we should all know... that beggar, whoever he is, whatever he is... he’s not a simple being."
He shifted his weight, looking directly at Damian.
"And Damian? All of us owe our debt. We would have died decades ago if not for that man saving us in that cell." His voice softened slightly. "It doesn’t matter that he had ulterior motives. He’s the reason I found my family in my friends. Life has been good in these decades, better than I ever thought possible after everything we’d been through."
His eyes held Damian’s without flinching.
"Now that our time to pay that debt has come, I welcome it. It’s my choice to make... not yours. So don’t take that burden on yourself, okay?"
Castor’s voice joined Gregor’s, quieter but carrying the same conviction.
"Indeed." He smiled slightly as his hand stroked Yara’s white hair absently. "Not to mention... Yara loves those children. And she likes Luna a lot. Leaving would hurt her more than staying ever could."
Damian looked away, his eyes finding anything else to focus on, then his voice came out as barely a whisper.
"The S ranked who attacked you..." He paused. "Did you manage to find what sort of demon made contracts with them?"
Gregor’s expression darkened.
"They called themselves Shadow Kings. The ones who attacked us today were the 4th, 12th, and 14th Shadow Kings... so we can safely assume there are at least fourteen of them in total."
He paused, his hands clenching.
"The 4th Shadow King mentioned he was contracted to the ruler of the Envy tribe. The other two were probably newly contracted, they didn’t show any abilities." His eyes found Damian’s. "I don’t know much about demons beyond what everyone learns in the Academy. But I do know that there’s no information in any Federation database regarding demons being able to make these sorts of contracts with humans."
’Rulers...’ Damian’s thoughts came sluggish through exhaustion and shock. ’Even those beings have started to get involved directly so early?’
His mind worked through the implications.
’Fourteen Shadow Kings... if the Envy tribe ruler is involved, then the other six rulers must have formed contracts as well... Seven rulers, fourteen Shadow Kings... two per ruler maybe? Or maybe the rulers only made contracts with one each.’
The scale of it was staggering.
He stood slowly, his movements careful like his body was fighting the motion.
"I have to tell Mike and the others not to talk about the Bloodworth skill." His voice came out flat and practical. "You all must be tired... Academy and Federation reinforcements should be arriving soon. You should head back to the district where the children are."
He turned and started walking without waiting for a response, his boots crunching on broken concrete.
Behind him, Gregor and Castor exchanged glances.
"He’s carrying too much weight. And I can feel it... he has changed."
Castor’s eyes tracked Damian’s retreating back, his expression complex.
"That fucking beggar knew exactly what he was doing..." His voice came out bitter. "Choosing someone who’d feel responsible for everything... Someone who’d break himself trying to protect everyone around him."
Gregor said nothing, but his jaw clenched in agreement.