Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives

Warlock Ch 303. Falling For Me Already?

His eyes landed on familiar faces.

Cassius. Standing near the front, arms crossed, expression unreadable but sharp. Victoria was beside him, looking intrigued, and Evelyn was watching with her usual cool indifference—though he knew better than to think she wasn't invested.

And then there was Alric.

The knight was rigid, his gaze locked onto Selena with clear concern.

Damian exhaled. 'Okay… so this is definitely a duel setup.'

His attention shifted forward. Looming in the center of the arena was a massive crystal, its surface swirling with condensed magic. He recognized it instantly—it was the same type used in tournaments, the kind that locked combatants inside until a clear winner was determined. It would prevent escape, ensure that the duel ran its course, and keep outside interference at bay.

The voice of the announcer echoed throughout the arena, carrying over the murmuring crowd with an authoritative weight.

"Final Segment: Duel of Ascendance."

"Participants: Damian Blackthorne and Selena Delyanis."

"The objective is to determine the rightful S-Rank through combat. The match will have a time limit of ten minutes. Victory will be decided when the time expires. The participant deemed to have performed better will be declared the winner. However, if one combatant dies before the timer ends, the other will be granted an automatic victory."

A hush fell over the audience as the announcement concluded. The tension in the air thickened, all eyes locked onto the two remaining contestants.

Damian's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, so we don't actually have to kill each other," he muttered to himself. "We just fight as best we can and let the time limit decide the winner."

That was… better. At least they weren't being forced into a death match.

He turned to Selena, smirking. "What do you think, Princess? Sounds fair enough, right?"

She didn't answer.

His amusement flickered.

Something was wrong.

Selena stood there, breathing heavily, her posture stiff. Her eyes were unfocused, her skin unnaturally pale. A faint tremor ran through her arms.

Damian's brows furrowed. "Princess?"

"BEGIN!"

The crowd erupted, anticipation crackling in the air.

Damian instinctively dropped into a ready stance, his body tensing—only to freeze when Selena suddenly staggered.

Then she collapsed.

A stunned silence fell over the arena.

Even the audience seemed unsure of what to make of it.

Damian blinked. Really? Is she pulling that 'falling plan' he joked about earlier? Giving him an easy win?

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Falling for me already?" he teased.

But then—Selena flinched.

She tried to get up.

Yet her legs refused to move, her hands trembled against the stone, and her breath came in shallow, ragged pants.

That's when Damian knew.

She wasn't acting.

She was in pain.

'Not good.'

Damian moved before he could think, stepping toward her. His earlier combat stance was forgotten, replaced by immediate concern.

"Princess," he called, kneeling beside her. "What's wrong?"

She didn't respond. Her breathing was uneven, her hands clutching at the fabric over her stomach as if she was trying to steady herself. Sweat beaded along her forehead.

The murmurs in the audience grew louder.

Cassius narrowed his eyes. Alric's hands were clenched into fists, barely restraining himself from jumping into the arena. Even Evelyn's usual indifferent expression shifted slightly.

Damian turned his focus back to Selena.

"What's happening to you?" he demanded.

Selena gritted her teeth. "I… don't know," she admitted, frustration and pain lacing her voice. "Something's… wrong."

Damian's jaw tightened. His instincts screamed at him. This wasn't normal. She'd been pushing herself hard, but she should have been fine. She'd taken potions, she'd healed, and yet—

His gaze flickered to the audience.

To the council members.

To the examiners.

His stomach turned. 'No. No way.'

"Selena," he said in a quieter, more serious tone. "Did you eat or drink anything before the match?"

She shook her head. "You checked it. I didn't touch anything."

Damian exhaled, but the weight in his chest didn't lessen.

That only left one possibility.

The exam itself.

'Was this planned? Was this rigged?'

His hands curled into fists. He had suspected something was off from the very beginning—the assassination attempts, the strange inconsistencies in the rules, the forced nature of this duel—but this?

This felt like someone was pulling strings directly.

Selena shifted slightly, trying to push herself up. Damian instinctively reached out to steady her, but she shook her head.

"I—" She barely managed to lift herself onto one knee before another sharp tremor wracked through her body.

Her breathing hitched.

A flicker of something dark crossed her expression—something that looked terrifyingly close to fear.

Damian clenched his jaw.

He had a choice to make.

He could play along, let the duel continue, let her struggle through it. He could take the easy victory, solidify his S-rank, and act like this wasn't his problem.

But no.

Damian let out a slow breath through his nose, suppressing the irritation curling in his gut. His eyes flickered over Selena as she swayed slightly, her breaths shallow and uneven. It wasn't exhaustion. It wasn't simple fatigue. This was something else entirely.

Something worse.

His gaze sharpened. She had just taken a high-grade elixir, one that should've fully restored her mana, stamina, and health. And yet, she looked worse than before. His instincts screamed at him that something was wrong.

Damian stepped forward.

Selena's eyes darted to him, wary, her muscles tensing as he reached out. "What are you—?"

He ignored her, catching her wrist before she could shove him away. His grip was firm but not painful as he held her still. "You just drank an elixir. Your wounds should be healed by now. And you didn't eat or drink anything from the waiting room," he said, voice edged with suspicion. "So why the hell are you still like this?"

Selena scowled, attempting to yank her arm free. "Tch—maybe I just pushed myself too hard."

"Yeah?" Damian arched a brow. "Or maybe it's something else," he muttered.