Chapter 369 - 370: Wandering Spirit

The cold bit through the wreckage, but Damon didn't feel it. Not really. Not with Sylvia sitting so close, looking at him like that.

He couldn't figure her out. Not now. Not here. Not with the darkness casting long shadows behind her and that look in her grey eyes…

Still, Damon kept his calm. His voice low, steady.

"Your Sylvia, that's what I think of you…"

Sylvia paused. Her eyes,sharp, nervous, flicked up to meet his. Grey eyes locking onto dark eyes.

Her lips trembled just faintly as she lowered her head.

"That's a very Damon thing to say…"

She bit her lower lip, her breath shaky. As if some invisible weight was pulling her under and she was trying not to drown.

"I mean what do you think of me as..a…."

Damon blinked. He could hear her heartbeat. Fast. Nervous. He could feel the heat of her body so close, warming the chilled air between them.

The strands of her hair clung to her damp skin, and without thinking, he reached out. His fingers brushed them aside gently, tucking them behind her ear.

"Your Sylvia. That is more than enough for me…"

She looked up at him. There was a smile there… but not one of joy. A resigned, thin smile. The fire in her eyes had dulled, if only for a moment.

'Is… he pushing me away…? Am… I?'

Sylvia shook her head once—then moved. She shifted closer, crawling into his lap with quiet determination.

The ground was damp beneath her knees, but she didn't seem to care. Her gaze flicked toward the camp where the others lay asleep.

Her movements were cautious, as if ensuring no one was watching.

Her body trembled—not from cold—but something else entirely.

"I… I… I am... I'll be leaving the academy soon…"

Damon's eyes sharpened.

"What are you talking about? Why…?"

She bit her lip again, her body now fully pressed against his. The closeness brought with it a wave of emotions he wasn't sure how to handle.

"The dark spirit incident… my father wanted me… he wanted me to return… back home…"

Her voice cracked. A tear welled up in the corner of her eye, refusing to fall.

"I was ordered to drop out… I… I didn't sign the paperwork because… I wanted this exam to be my chance to say goodbye… before I returned to my cage…"

Damon's breath caught. So this was what she had been carrying. This was what had darkened her mood on the way here.

"I see. Look how that turned out… We're trapped in a Death Zone."

Sylvia gave a slow nod. Her knees scraped against the earth as she adjusted her weight, her thighs leaning into his.

"I… I wasn't scared when we first got lost here. I… know I shouldn't have felt that way. I shouldn't have felt thrilled. But I did. I'm sorry…"

He shook his head slowly. It made sense now. She didn't want to go back. To her, home wasn't safety. It was a prison.

"I wanted to stay in the academy with Evangeline, Leona, Xander… I wanted to stay with you…"

Her voice softened at the end, barely above a whisper.

"I don't want to go back…"

Damon's eyes stayed on her. Her gaze didn't waver. There was no weakness in her expression. No fear. Just raw resolve.

She hadn't told him because she gave up—no. Quite the opposite.

"Why didn't you tell me then…"

She lowered her head, shoulders tense.

"I… was worried you'd try to take them on… you have a habit of doing whatever you please…"

Damon could only stare. Honestly, it did sound like something he'd do. He wasn't reckless—but he was stubborn.

Actually he was both.

Without a word, he reached forward and lifted her chin.

"Do you remember my promise… to you…"

Sylvia's eyes shimmered.

She nodded. Once.

"Then don't worry. Let me show you the world, Sylvia…"

Her breath caught. Her gaze locked onto his—and didn't leave.

She leaned in. Slowly. Inches turned to breaths. Then—

Soft. Warm. Her lips touched his. Just for a moment. Just enough to steal his breath. His eyes widened.

Then she pulled back. Her face lowered. Her ears—bright red.

"I… I… I… I'm sorry…" she squeaked.

In a flustered blur, she scrambled off him, covering her face and rushing back toward the camp like her life depended on it.

Damon blinked. Stunned. Frozen in place.

Then, his eyes narrowed. His expression twisted into something cold. Deadly.

He stood.

From the shadows, his hand emerged with a dark weapon—Alazard's disintegration sword. Its black edge shimmered like smoke and death..

He didn't say a word as he walked, blade low, killing intent bleeding off him in waves.

Sylvia had just crash-landed into Evangeline's chest, drawing a groan from the half-asleep girl. Evangeline sat up, confused and scowling, ready to chew Sylvia out.

But then she saw him.

Damon. Charging.

Sword drawn. Eyes filled with murderous light.

Sylvia turned her head sharply, sensing something was wrong. Her instincts screamed—and then she saw it. Damon, mid-sprint, sword aimed straight at her.

There was no time to scream.

The sword came down—not at her—but in front of her. The impact cracked the earth.

A breathless gasp echoed across the camp. Everyone bolted upright, weapons raised, hearts pounding.

Then, it appeared.

Something shimmered just before her. Its body wasn't solid—no. It was fire without smoke, a warped, shifting mirage. A grotesque form. Wrong.

Damon sneered.

"No wonder I didn't sense anything. Dark spirits don't have shadows…"

The thing hissed—a shrill, inhuman screech—as it writhed in the darkness.

Then it vanished.

[You have slain dark spirit wandering Ibliss]

Damon exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He glanced at Sylvia, then at the others, all still watching with horror.

"I knew something was off… A dark spirit. It was after you… must be a mind type… no wonder you were acting weird…"

Sylvia just stared at him, her face pale.

'Acting weird…?' Her heart sank.

Before she could speak, he turned his back.

"It's fine now. I got rid of it…"

He disappeared into the shadows, his sword melting away with him.

Sylvia sat there, trembling. A bitter ache spread in her chest.

'That wasn't the spirit's doing… those were my real feelings…'

She knew. She knew he was lying. He always told half-truths when he was trying to…..

Tears brimmed at the edge of her vision.

He was letting her down gently.

She forced a smile through the pain. A small, self-deprecating thing.

"Right… I was under its control… I… I'm fine now…"

'Did I just get rejected…?'

Her hands clenched into fists. Her jaw trembled.

'No… I'm not done yet…'