Chapter 681 - 682: This Is Wendy

Damon narrowed his eyes at the copper-skinned woman. Her eyes he knew that intensity, that gaze.

This was a gaze straight from the Evil Forest. An old enemy he had wanted to kill. One who had every reason to hate him.

One who wanted to kill him.

He smiled coldly, the blood trickling from his nose down to his lips.

"You’re Wendy, aren’t you?"

The woman holding the bone blade was quite a beauty, even with all that hide and rags, and her unkempt hair. It was as if she didn’t know how to be a person and was more used to being a beast.

"Must kill," she spoke coldly, clenching her bone blade, her fangs gleaming faintly under the light.

Damon reached into the shadows and pulled out his dealer’s hand. His arm felt heavy, like lead. He was in no shape to fight.

Still, Damon was not about to lose his bravado. He stood up with a faint, mocking smile on his face.

"My squirrel. Hand her over, she has nothing to do with this."

She tilted her head, confusion flickering across her expression. Damon was glad she wasn’t attacking yet.

Instead, she reached into her chest, tapping lightly as if giving a signal. Scar poked its head out of her chest, eyes narrowing as it scanned the room until they stopped at Damon.

It pushed itself out of her body, stood upon her chest, and began cleaning the soot from its fur.

As if clearing its throat, it squealed and pointed straight at Damon.

"That’s him! He’s the one you’re looking for!" it squealed toward the Wendigo, now in human form.

Its eyes widened as it squealed again, putting on its cutest expression.

"Spare me! I was forced to do this! It was all that damn raven! This baby-killing fiend forced me to!"

Damon listened to its squeals with a deadpan expression on his face.

"You little furball, you... I can’t believe you’re a turncoat... I mean, a turn-fur. What happened to sniffing her out for me?"

The Wendigo slowly raised her bone blade.

"You are human. Killer."

Damon wasn’t just talking he was, in fact, trying to reach the tent exit and leave.

He forced a smile, circling around her carefully, ignoring the cowardly little creature that clearly had no sense of loyalty.

"Look here, Wendy... it’s not like that. I’m a man who doesn’t believe in the philosophy of an eye for an eye. Would you believe me if I told you I let go of my grudges a long time ago?"

His lies almost made the squirrel gasp in shock. Wasn’t the whole reason Scar got involved with Damon because he had come back to kill the Evil Forest Wendigo?

However, the Wendigo, now human, seemed more interested in something else.

"Wendy... what is Wendy?"

Damon took a slow breath, his head aching as he contemplated calling his shadow clone, but that wasn’t possible.

"It’s... a name. Wendy. You don’t have a name, do you? People have names."

He wasn’t against fighting her, but from her aura alone, Damon knew it would be troublesome. Even if he managed to win, he would be half-dead by the end of it.

’I can use a soul blaze potion, but I have just two... for a battle I’m not even sure I can win.’

She touched her chest, as if the very concept of a name was something sacred.

"I... I are Wendy."

Damon shook his head slightly.

"I am... You don’t have very much human experience, do you?"

She tilted her head again, confused by his words. He continued.

"Otherwise you would have seen this coming."

His dealer’s hand shot out of his grasp, and he turned into a shadow, rushing for the door. However, something was wrong. When he threw his dealer’s hand, her bone sword slashed it away. But instead of giving chase, she turned toward the sofa...

Where a young man was sleeping away like a princess in a fairy tale.

Damon froze as she grabbed Waton, his expression twisting in disbelief.

What the hell... that fool had been asleep even when an enemy came into the tent and had a conversation with him.

’That guy has the survival instincts of a blade of grass.’

The Wendigo no, Wendy grabbed him. Her face shifted into a smile Damon recognized instantly. It was the same smile he had worn the night he massacred her cubs months ago.

Waton gasped, jerked awake by her grip.

"Huh... huh, what... what is it? Morning already?"

His eyes fluttered open, confusion still lingering. The woman’s arm was wrapped around his neck, while Damon’s dealer’s hand hovered a meter away too far to make a difference.

If Damon moved, Waton would die. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared. In truth, there were many times Damon had wanted the young man dead. But not now. Not when he needed him alive for twenty-four hours.

Damon could not afford to fail the quest. This was his one chance to find a way to restore Matia back to how she was before.

Even if he had to kill everyone in the arena, he couldn’t let Waton die and fail.

"Don’t move, wagon," he hissed, as she moved her bone blade to Waton’s throat. Her dark eyes focused sharply on Damon.

"I not kill and eat you. I want blood for blood. I kill your cub, then eat you. I get revenge."

Damon chuckled, a thin smile forming on his lips.

"You can barely talk. You’re tripping over your words, can’t form coherent sentences, and know nothing of the world. But you know about revenge... how laughable."

Her eyes widened in fury. This had once been an intelligent monster now, she was something closer to a beast-kin stripped of her core.

She was what one would call a member of the goddess races; thus, she was a person.

"You... you... kill... I kill too."

Damon moved his dealer’s hand back into his palm, his eyes colder than ice.

"I’ll make it easy on you. If you kill him... you will beg to die."

She glared with unflinching hatred.

"I kill."

Before she could slice Waton’s throat—

"Wait!!!!"

Waton screamed, freezing the air in the tent.

"Don’t I get a say in this? I’m not his cub! At the very least, tell me why I’m dying and who... who are you?"

The Wendigo glanced at Damon, who saw an opportunity to talk or at least bluff his way through to saving Waton.

"This is Wendy... she’s an old friend."