Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives

Warlock Ch 81. Kaelan Voidweaver

The feeling was so strong that he paused, glancing down at the book's cover to see if there was any indication of where this familiarity came from. And there it was, scrawled in a fine, dark script near the spine.

"Kaelan Voidweaver," he muttered, testing the name on his tongue. It rang out with an odd resonance. He knew that name, or at least his mind did, somewhere in the recesses of his memory. But how?

He frowned, flipping the book over again, his curiosity deepening. He tried to dredge up anything he could remember, anything that would link him to this name. The book was filled with real techniques and knowledge that felt shockingly familiar—as if it was knowledge he'd once known and had somehow forgotten.

Voidweaver's teachings weren't like the others he'd read so far. The other books had been technical, detailed, but detached in a way. Kaelan's words, though, carried a unique depth. He didn't simply lay out theories or list spells; he refined them, transforming standard magical concepts with an edge that was both practical and, somehow, deeply personal. It was as if he were speaking directly to Damian, passing on wisdom gained not from study but from hard, real-world experience. Voidweaver's teachings spanned across all classes—mages, warlocks, witches, sorcerers—blurring the lines between them in ways that seemed almost revolutionary.

Damian felt an excitement rise within him. He could almost visualize every spell, every technique Kaelan described, like he was watching a memory instead of learning something new. The descriptions were so clear, so detailed, that he could almost see how each spell would play out in battle. He could imagine himself casting them, feeling the Mana flow and twist at his command, even anticipating how to adapt them for different situations.

One line in particular caught his attention, scrawled at the back of the book, almost like an afterthought. The words made him pause.

"Magic isn't just power—it's knowledge that reshapes the world, and those who understand it most are the ones most feared."

The words struck something deep within him, resonating something he couldn't quite explain. He frowned, whispering to himself, "Why?"

It felt like more than just a sentence on a page. It was almost like a warning—a warning that he could feel in his bones, even if he didn't understand why. He stared at the words, lost in thought, a single drop of water splashed onto the page, spreading across the ink. Startled, Damian jolted, quickly lifting his head to check if there was a leak in the ceiling.

But there was nothing. The roof was dry, and the air in the room was still. His hair wasn't wet anymore, either, so it couldn't have dripped from him.

Confused, he felt a strange wetness on his cheek. He touched his face, realizing with a shock that the dampness wasn't from a leak—it was from his own eyes.

"Why am I crying?" he whispered, his voice barely audible as he stared at the wet trail on his fingers.

A strange weight settled over him, a heaviness that had nothing to do with exhaustion. It was as though something hidden within him had stirred, against memories or feelings he hadn't even known were there. He didn't understand it, didn't know what could have triggered such a reaction, but the tears came unbidden.

But one thing for sure… Damian knew Kaelan Voidweaver hadn't written these words lightly; Damian could feel that much. They were a truth he'd learned, perhaps even suffered for.

He closed the book slowly, his fingers trembling slightly as he ran them over the cover. Kaelan's lessons had felt familiar from the beginning, but now, that familiarity was tinged with something deeper—an almost painful sense of loss or longing. It was like he was mourning something he couldn't remember, something that had slipped through his fingers long ago.

Whatever had drawn him to this world, to Cassius, to these books, was no accident. And somehow, he knew that Voidweaver's words would be key to unlocking a truth he'd barely begun to scratch the surface of.

Wiping his face, Damian took a steadying breath, setting the book back down on the desk. This knowledge, this magic Kaelan spoke of, wasn't just advanced—it felt like fragments of a puzzle, pieces of a power he was meant to wield, even though he didn't yet know how or why.

'I'll ask Cassius about this tomorrow,' he mentally noted. He believed this book was the one that Cassius referred to as the special book and it may be something related to his own memory fragment.

He knew Cassius might hide the answers from him again, so he had to tread carefully. He didn't want to push too hard and risk losing whatever trust Cassius had in him. But at the same time, he couldn't ignore it. He needed to know, if only to fill in the blank spaces that stretched back through his mind, his childhood, his memories—all of it set in the Nullis world. So how did any of this fit in?

Taking a steady breath, Damian reached for another book from the pile, the one Cassius had labeled as essential reading. This one looked decidedly more tedious than the last. It was thick and worn, with a plain, faded cover, and judging by the title, it appeared to be a comprehensive guide to the magical classes of this world. Even the spine looked exhausted from years of use.

But he knew better than to skip it. His encounters had already proven that the threats out there weren't limited to the likes of evil warlocks. That previous vampire woman, for instance—her interest in him had felt uncomfortably keen. And then there was the silver-haired girl he'd bumped into, her resemblance to the woman from his dream made him shudder. He had a target on his back, one he'd be foolish to ignore. If he was going to survive here, he needed to know exactly who, and what, he might be facing.