Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 169: I’m at My Limit

Warlock Ch 169. I'm at My Limit

Damian's legs gave out, his body collapsing to the floor in a heap. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as if he'd just run through hell barefoot. Sweat dripped from his forehead, soaking through his clothes until they clung to his skin like a second, uncomfortable layer. He felt like he'd just drowned in his own effort. His muscles screamed in protest, and even lifting a finger felt like a monumental task.

His summons were gone, their forms dissipated into wisps of magical energy after being pushed to their limits. The training hall was eerily silent now. The monsters he'd defeated were gone too, their forms returned to whatever plane they'd been summoned from.

The summoned monsters weren't like the ones found in the wilderness. Summoned monsters had a purpose—either to be defeated or, in some cases, to be bound in a pact. But once they were defeated, they vanished without a trace. Wilderness monsters, by contrast, left behind corpses, their remains harvested by hunters and adventurers for profit. This was different. Cleaner, maybe. But no less brutal.

Cassius stood a few feet away, his arms crossed and a smug smirk on his face. He looked utterly unbothered, as if the last few hours of carnage had been little more than a warm-up session for him. "See? I told you, you could do it," he said, his tone laced with that infuriating blend of mockery and pride.

Damian wanted to snap back at him, to unload every ounce of his frustration and exhaustion, but his energy was too limited for sarcasm. Instead, he let out a long, ragged breath and muttered, "I did… but they also almost killed me."

He wasn't exaggerating. Several times during the endless onslaught, he'd felt death's cold breath at his back. If it hadn't been for Cassius' timely barriers, he wouldn't be sitting here now—or rather, lying here, half-dead or really dead.

"But they didn't, did they?" Cassius replied, his smirk widening as if that fact alone was some kind of victory.

Damian groaned, rolling onto his back and staring up at the glowing runes on the ceiling. "Yeah, thanks for the barriers," he muttered, his voice dripping with reluctant gratitude. He was too spent to argue, too drained to even muster his usual biting wit.

Cassius chuckled softly, clearly enjoying himself. "Should we start your rank A test now?"

Damian's head snapped toward him—or rather, lolled slightly in his direction, because even that small movement took more effort than he cared to admit. "Let me take a break for a moment, Cas," he said, his tone more serious than usual. "I mean it. I'm at my limit."

Cassius studied him for a moment, his sharp gaze scanning Damian's sprawled form. For once, the usual sarcasm and amusement in Cassius' expression faded, replaced by something more calculating. He could see it—this wasn't one of Damian's usual complaints. This wasn't him whining about a tough session or grumbling about the lack of snacks. Damian was serious. He was done. Pushing him further now wouldn't just be counterproductive—it could be dangerous.

"Fine," Cassius said finally, his tone clipped but not unkind.

Damian let out a breath of relief, his body relaxing slightly against the cool stone floor. "Bed… or couch… either's fine for me…" he muttered, closing his eyes.

Cassius' sharp gaze flicked to him, and Damian cracked one eye open, noting the slight twitch of annoyance in his mentor's jaw. "I'm not joking," Damian added, his voice weak but firm.

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Cassius let out an exasperated sigh, but instead of dragging Damian out of the training hall—or worse, leaving him there to rot—he gestured to the shadows. A handful of shadow servants materialized at his command, their dark forms rippling as they awaited orders.

"Bring a couch," Cassius instructed, his tone as commanding as ever. The shadow servants bowed slightly before vanishing, and a few moments later, they returned, carrying an ornate couch between them.

Damian blinked at the sight, his tired mind struggling to process it. "Seriously? You brought the couch here?" he mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion.

Cassius shrugged, his smirk returning. "You said you needed a break. I'm accommodating."

The shadow servants set the couch down near Damian, and he dragged himself toward it with all the grace of a half-dead slug. Every movement was agony, but the thought of lying on something softer than the stone floor was motivation enough.

He collapsed onto the couch, letting out a sigh that was half relief, half exhaustion. The cushions were far from luxurious, but compared to the unforgiving ground, they felt like heaven. "You're not as heartless as I thought," Damian muttered, his eyes already closing.

"Don't push it," Cassius replied, though there was a faint hint of amusement in his voice.

Damian didn't respond. He was too tired to care, too drained to think about what came next. All he knew was that he needed this moment.

Cassius glanced down at Damian sprawled on the couch, his exhaustion so palpable it was almost contagious. "I'll get more potions for you," Cassius said, his voice calm but edged with the usual commanding tone.

Damian didn't respond.

Cassius frowned, turning slightly. "Did you hear me?" he asked, but still no answer came.

Cassius' gaze shifted to Damian's face. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady but shallow. "Passed out already, huh?" Cassius muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Figures."

With a sigh, he left the training hall, heading toward his storage room to retrieve the potions. His steps echoed through the quiet corridors, his mind already running through the inventory. Energy potions, stamina potions, and perhaps a revitalizing tincture—it would take all of them to get Damian back into fighting condition.

By the time Cassius returned, a tray of potions hovered effortlessly around him, he was already considering how to push Damian further without breaking him completely. But as he stepped back into the training hall, the sight that greeted him made him stop cold.