The smoke rising from the distance didnât seem to bother Damon too much. He walked calmly around the edge of the water toward one of the ruined bridges.
He had been anxious, concerned about Sylvia. He could have waited at the bridge, but it was pointless. Sylvia would not come that way. The young elf girl seemed to be following the same route as Lilith Astranova.
That was why Damon was here. According to his estimation, Lilith had passed through and gone to the main island.
"Whatâs up with her... at least drop by and say hi."
He didnât understand why Lilith hadnât even bothered to meet him, just gone about her own thing. But this was Lilithâhe didnât need to worry about her.
"Even without me, sheâd be fine."
That thought made Damon smile sadly, though there was a soft glimmer of melancholy in his eyes. He wondered how a world without him would look. How long until he was forgotten?
It was the sad thing about death, no matter who you were, when people died there was only a short period of mourning. After that, life just went on. Time didnât stop because you died.
The world didnât really care, and your loved ones eventually moved on. Maybe that thought brought him some comfort.
Damon wasnât alone. Wendy and Waton followed him, watching while Wendy eagerly asked Waton questions. Then she stopped and nudged Damon with her elbow.
"Why so sad?"
Damon smiled, shaking his head with a small chuckle.
"Do I look sad?"
She didnât quite understand him, but before she could say anything, a faint presence appeared in her senses.
A young woman with long white hair trudged forward, her armor gleaming faintly like the moon. A few elves followed behind her, each several steps back. She wore a calm and almost deadpan expression, until she lifted her head and spotted Damonâs dark hair.
A small smile bloomed across her beautiful face, almost like the radiant moon shining down its gentle light upon a dark world.
Without a moment of hesitation, Sylvia ran toward him. Damon let out a sigh of relief as she closed the distance and leapt into his arms, not caring that the world was watching through the broadcast orbs. She was a princess, after all, one who should maintain her decorum, but that didnât stop her.
Damon caught her in his arms, spinning her slightly before setting her down on her feet.
He half-expected the elves behind her to complain, or at least say something, but to his surprise, they were quiet.
No, that had to be reiterated, they were quiet. That was like saying the sun had fallen from the sky. These were elven royal guards, racist supremacists who hated him.
Why would they stay silent while their frail, reserved princess hugged a vagabond commoner with nothing to his name?
That was excluding his greatest sin, not being an elf, but a lowly human.
"Thatâs weird," Damon muttered softly.
"Whatâs weird?" Sylvia asked with a soft smile.
He shook his head slowly. "Eh, itâs nothing. I was looking for you. You were a lot harder to find than I thought."
Sylvia brushed her hair aside. "You were looking for me?"
Damon took a deep breath and nodded silently.
Sylvia glanced to the side, noticing an unfamiliar face.
"Who is that?" she asked coldly.
Damon didnât even look. "Oh, thatâs Waton. Heâs the prince of Valtheron. Didnât you already know that?"
She gave him a deadpan look.
"I know who he is. Iâm talking about the woman next to him."
Damon sensed trouble in the air. Sylvia was sweet, she wouldnât usually be hostile, nevertheless he could sense faint traces of killing intent radiating from her.
Wendy, of course, picked up on it instantly. Her eyes narrowed.
Damon gestured to her. "Thatâs Wendy."
Wendy stepped forward, not backing away from Sylvia. The elves behind Sylvia began sweating profusely at the sight of the princessâs slight irritation.
Wendy looked Sylvia directly in the eyes.
"Iâm Wendyâ and he and I are going to have babies together soon."
Hearing those words, Sylviaâs hands trembled. Her elf ears twitched slightly, her eyes lowered, and a cold, icy light flickered in them. She turned to Damon with a trembling smile.
"Sheâs crazy, right? Thatâs not true... right?"
Her voice was conflicted, as if sheâd just been betrayed.
Damon scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Well... itâs a long and complicated story..."
Sylviaâs eye twitched. Turning back to Wendy, she smiled, softly, mockingly.
"Oh, is that so? Soon? Why not now?"
She placed her hand gently on her abdomen, her tone sweet but venomous.
"Like I am right now. You wouldnât understand the joy of carrying a child, would you?"
Damon felt his legs go weak.
"This stupid woman..." he muttered.
He glanced up at the floating magic orbs and waved his hand nervously.
"Itâs not like that at all! This is a serious misunderstanding!"
Sylvia didnât even look at him, mocking Wendy with a sneer.
"Iâm pregnant."
Damon immediately shook his head.
"No, sheâs not."
Sylvia pointed straight at him, her voice sharp.
"Heâs the father!"
Damon raised his hands defensively.
"No, Iâm not!"
Wendy glared at him, then at Sylvia.
"I want one."
"No, you donât! And sheâs not pregnant!" Damon resisted the impending doom.
He walked to Sylvia, making sure the orbs caught his serious expression, and grabbed her arms.
"Sylvia, youâre not pregnant. You arenât having a baby."
"Tsk." She clicked her tongue, looking away.
Damon shook her lightly, trying to bring her to her senses.
He cleared his throat, addressing the world watching through the orbs.
"Sheâs not pregnant. Hell, sheâs a virgin! This was all a prank to make things difficult for the elf king, for sending those lousy, talentless bums to try to assassinate me!"
He pointed at the orbs.
"Everyone knows I like older women. I mean, if it was the elf queen, thatâd be a different story, Iâm innocent!"
Even while clearing his name, he couldnât resist rage-baiting Kadelas.
Sylvia stopped, glaring at him. She walked up close and looked him dead in the eyes, shaking her head.
"You donât like older elf women. In fact, itâs proven elf women older than three hundred have a musty scent. You want nothing to do with old women."
She threw her own mother under the carriage.