Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives

Warlock Ch 37. Innocent

"So… have you ever joined the Evil faction?" Damian asked, his voice cautious but direct.

Evelyn's response was quick, almost reflexive. "No," she said sharply, then paused, her tone shifting. "But there was a misunderstanding... or maybe slander." Her voice carried a mix of frustration and resignation.

"Slandered? You?" Damian raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. The idea that someone could have turned against her didn't seem to fit the picture he had of her. He leaned in, waiting for her to explain.

Evelyn's expression softened, her usual confidence dimming for a moment. "Not just me," she began, her voice quieter. "There were others. Him... and a few others." Damian noticed the flicker of sadness and regret in her eyes as she mentioned someone. "One of them was my mentor."

That caught Damian off guard. Evelyn wasn't the kind of person who let emotions slip easily, but there was something in the way she said mentor that struck him.

"What happened to him?" Damian asked gently, not wanting to push but needing to understand.

Evelyn's gaze lingered on him, and for a moment, it felt like she was debating how much to tell him. Finally, she spoke, her words heavy with memory. "We were all innocent," she said softly. "But it didn't matter. Our reputations were ruined. Someone had to take the fall." Her eyes were distant, as if she were reliving the events in her mind, and Damian could tell this wasn't just some small mistake. This was something that had haunted her for a long time.

Damian's voice sharpened, the injustice of it clear in his tone. "So, they threw it all on you?"

Evelyn shook her head slowly, her expression tight. "No," she said, her voice quieter now. "My mentor took the fall. He said he manipulated us, used us… just so the society could accept us again." The way she said it, with that mix of bitterness and sorrow, told Damian everything he needed to know. Her mentor had sacrificed himself for her, for the others, but the cost of that sacrifice was written all over her face.

Damian frowned, confusion creasing his brow. "And what happened to him?"

Evelyn's silence spoke volumes. She didn't answer right away, her lips pressing into a thin line, her eyes shadowed with old pain. When she finally spoke, her smile was dry and sad, a hollow expression that made Damian's stomach twist. "He's gone," she said, leaving it at that, and Damian couldn't tell if she was refusing to answer or if she just couldn't bear to relive it.

She glanced away. "You've got a lot to learn," she said, her voice shifting, as if she was done with the topic. "How about I make you some snacks? You need extra energy after all that happened, right?"

Damian hesitated. He wanted to ask more, wanted to understand what really happened, but he could see that she wasn't ready to open up any further. Maybe later, when the time was right. "Alright," he said, forcing a small smile. "Sure. I'll help you make them."

They moved into the kitchen, and the mood lightened a little as they started making sandwiches. The sounds of slicing and spreading filled the space, and for a while, it was nice to focus on something simple. But Damian's mind kept drifting back to the conversation, replaying her words, trying to make sense of it all. Her mentor had taken the fall… but why? And what exactly had happened?

To break the silence, Damian decided to tease her a little, trying to shift the mood. "So," he said, smirking as he spread some mustard on the bread, "you've had partners before, right? I mean, yesterday wasn't your first time, was it?" His tone was playful, but he couldn't help being curious.

Evelyn chuckled softly, though her eyes still held that hint of sadness from earlier. "Yes… I had a husband once," she said, her voice calm but laced with something deeper. "Or, well, a partner."

Damian looked up, surprised. "Where is he now?"

Without missing a beat, Evelyn responded, "He's dead."

The simple, blunt statement hit Damian like a punch. He froze for a second, his hand still holding the knife, unsure of how to respond. "I'm… I'm sorry," he said quietly, his usual cockiness replaced by genuine sympathy.

Evelyn waved it off, though her voice still carried that trace of sorrow. "Don't worry. It's been fifty years."

Damian's eyes widened, and he almost dropped the knife. "Wait… fifty years?"

"Yes," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "It happened fifty years ago."

He blinked, his mind struggling to catch up. 'Fifty years?' How was that even possible? He stared at her, his jaw practically on the floor. "How old are you?" he asked, barely able to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

Evelyn smirked slightly, the familiar spark of mischief returning to her eyes. "Two hundred and three."

Damian's brain short-circuited for a second, and all he could do was stammer, "But… you look like you're in your twenties!"

Evelyn laughed softly. "Magic has its perks, Damian."

Damian blinked, still trying to wrap his head around everything she'd just said. Two hundred and three years old? It didn't even make sense. He had thought he was dealing with someone just a little older than him, maybe a few years of magical experience ahead. But centuries? That was something else entirely.

"So… magic really can make you look younger?" Damian asked, still in disbelief.

Evelyn nodded, her expression lightening, but there was something deeper in her eyes. "Yeah. Mana, the life force we use for magic, can do more than just power spells. It keeps us young, healthy. The more skilled you are at controlling it, the longer you can live. It slows down aging. That's why I still look like I'm in my twenties."

Damian shook his head, trying to absorb the information. "So… you're telling me anyone with enough magic can basically live forever?"

"Not forever," Evelyn corrected, leaning against the counter. "But a lot longer than normal. Cassius, for example—he's over five hundred years old, and he looks like he's in his thirties."

"Five hundred?" Damian almost choked. "Cassius is five hundred years old?"

"Yep," Evelyn said with a smirk. "He's been around for a long time. Seen a lot of things. That's why he's so... well, him."

Damian's mind raced. He thought he knew the people around him, but this was next-level. "Who's the oldest person you know then?" he asked, half-dreading the answer.

Evelyn's eyes glimmered with amusement. "The oldest? That would be one of the Fae. She's about a thousand years old, give or take a decade."

Damian's jaw dropped. "A thousand?"

"Yep," Evelyn said casually. "Fae and elves usually live the longest. It's kind of their thing."