Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives

Warlock Ch 7. Fight or Die

There were more than a dozen of them, all closing in at once. Their eyes—if they had eyes—glowed faintly with an eerie light, and Damian's skin crawled as their cold energy filled the space. Some looked weaker than others, some looked more fierce.

A glowing line of text appeared above them like a holographic display.

Spy Shadow

HP: 150/150

MP: 50/50

Hunter Shadow

HP: 13,300/13,300

MP: 1400/1400

Damian blinked. "What the hell? I'm seeing—"

One of the shadows lunged toward her, but Evelyn was ready. She flicked her wrist, and a sharp arc of light shot from her hand, slicing through and crashing into the shadow's form. It screeched as it dissolved, its body dissipating like smoke. She just killed a level 91 shadow with one hit!

"Listen to me," she yelled over the chaos. "Defend yourself! Take care of the low level ones."

Another shadow was heading straight for him, its form shifting and twisting as it advanced. Damian's heart raced, his mind screaming at him to run, but he planted his feet, his hand trembling as he raised it, trying to focus.

[Dark Bolt]. The name of the spell popped into his head, the only spell he knew.

He focused on the mark on his palm, trying to feel the magic Evelyn had talked about. It was there, faint but growing, like a flicker of heat in his veins. He clenched his fist, eyes locked on the shadow coming at him.

"Come on, come on," Damian muttered, his hand twitching with energy.

The weaker shadow lunged at him, and in a panic, Damian thrust his hand forward, his voice hoarse as he shouted, "Dark Bolt!"

A crackle of dark energy shot from his palm, a small orb of black and purple light zipping toward the shadow. It wasn't much—barely bigger than a baseball—but it hit the shadow dead on. The creature screeched, its form flickering as its HP bar dropped slightly.

[Spy Shadow] took 30 damage.

Damian's breath caught in his throat. It worked! The spell had actually worked!

But there was no time to celebrate. The shadow, though weakened, wasn't finished. It surged forward again, faster this time, and Damian barely had time to react. He stumbled back, raising his arms in a weak attempt to shield himself, but the shadow slammed into him, cold and solid, knocking him off his feet.

Damian hit the ground hard, the air knocked from his lungs. The shadow loomed over him, its body twisting and writhing as it prepared to strike again. Desperation clawed at him as he struggled to get to his feet.

He needed to cast the spell again. But his mind was a mess, panic clouding his thoughts. He couldn't focus, couldn't feel the magic. The shadow lashed out, its form twisting into a sharp blade of darkness.

In a last-ditch effort, Damian rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the shadow's attack. His heart pounded in his chest, the cold sweat of fear covering his skin. He had to get a grip. He had to fight back.

He scrambled to his feet, his back against the wall as the shadow advanced on him again. This time, Damian didn't hesitate. He raised his hand, the mark on his palm glowing faintly as he called out the spell again, louder, more desperate.

"Dark Bolt!"

The bolt of energy fired from his hand, stronger this time, slamming into the shadow with enough force to make it recoil. Its HP bar dropped again, the numbers flashing in his vision.

[Spy Shadow] took 20 damage.

The shadow screeched, its form flickering violently. Damian felt a surge of confidence. He could do this. He could fight.

The shadow lunged at him again, but this time, Damian was ready. He sidestepped, his movements still clumsy but improving, and fired another Dark Bolt. The orb of energy hit the shadow square in the chest, and with a final screech, its HP dropped to zero.

The shadow dissolved into nothing, vanishing like smoke in the wind.

Damian stood there, panting, his heart hammering in his chest as he stared at the empty space where the shadow had been. He'd done it. He'd actually killed one of them.

But there wasn't time to dwell on it. There were still more shadows, and Evelyn was locked in a fierce battle with them, her hands glowing with magical energy as she cast spell after spell.

Damian glanced at the other spy shadows. Their HP bars hovered above them. His stomach twisted.

But he didn't have a choice.

One of the shadows turned toward him, its glowing eyes locking onto him. Damian's heart skipped a beat. It was coming for him.

He raised his hand again, his mind racing as he tried to summon the magic. "Dark Bolt!" he shouted, the spell firing from his palm. The bolt hit the shadow, but this one was stronger, barely flinching as its HP dropped slightly.

Damian cursed under his breath. The spell wasn't enough and he could feel his Mana getting thinner. He had to do more, something else. His eyes darted around, and he noticed how the shadows were moving—fluid, like smoke, but still with weight and form. They weren't invincible. Not to mention, he caught the core in their center. If he could land a hit, maybe he could combine his physical strength with the magic he barely knew how to wield.

He wasn't a seasoned fighter, but he knew how to defend himself from bar brawls and had picked up some basic moves. What if he could mix that with his magic?

One of the shadows lunged at him again, its dark form twisting as it aimed for his chest. Damian braced himself, gritting his teeth. This time, he didn't back away. Instead, he stepped into the attack, using his body's momentum. He ducked under the shadow's sweeping strike and slammed his fist into its core with all his strength, just as the [Dark Bolt] charged in his hand.

"Take this!" Damian shouted, releasing the energy at point-blank range.