Magicaaâs eyes widened in shock and anticipation.
"Sorry about my behaviour earlier. I would be very grateful if you could not tell TotallyNotAGod about any of this. Itâs just that we had some unresolved problems from the past, and I had to kill you, but now that I have killed you once, letâs call it even? You understand me, right? No hard feelings?"
Damon smiled warmly.
Magicaa nodded his head in a daze.
Damon still did not let him off. "Are you nodding yes or no?" He asked again in a threatening tone.
Magicaaâs lips trembled, as he immediately nodded again and again, almost pathetically eager. "Y-yes... yes, I understand. No hard feelings. No hard feelings." His voice cracked, but he forced a broken smile, desperate to agree with Damon.
"Thatâs good," Damon smiled. He clapped Magicaa gently on the shoulder, almost sending the guy flying away. "See? I knew you were smart enough to understand how this works."
Magicaa let out a shaky laugh that sounded more like a sob, his eyes darting nervously to the monolith and then back to Damon. "T-then... then I can... I can go?"
"Of course," Damon said, his smile never faltering. "But youâll be going with me. I wouldnât want you to trip and fall into any more... unfortunate accidents. Besides, you and I both know our friends are waiting. Donât you want to see them again?"
The mage froze, sweat dripping down his head. He tried to nod, tried to smile, but the tremor in his jaw betrayed the pit forming in his gut.
"Good man," Damon said at last, straightening and gesturing ahead like a gracious host. "Lead the way. Letâs go get everyone and then be on our way."
Magicaaâs heart sank. He had just walked himself into hell, and the Blood God was holding the door open. He stumbled forward, every step reluctant, his shredded boots dragging over the cracked stone. Damon followed close behind, his presence pressing down heavier than the Abyssal fog itself. The egg at his chest pulsed faintly, as though it too fed on the mageâs dread.
Every so often Magicaaâs hands twitched, sparks of flame flaring pitifully at his fingertips before dying out again. Damon noticed, of course, but said nothing. He only chuckled once, softly, and the sound made Magicaaâs spine stiffen like heâd been stabbed.
"You look nervous," Damon said casually. "Donât be. This is just a reunion. Think about it. Your whole group, back together. Isnât that nice?"
Magicaa swallowed hard, his voice breaking when he tried to answer. "Y-yes... nice..." His own words sounded hollow to him, but Damon seemed satisfied enough.
"Good," Damon murmured. His eyes glowed faintly red in the fog. "Then make sure you smile when we find them. Theyâll feel safer if you look... welcoming."
Magicaaâs laugh came out strangled, half-mad. He couldnât tell if Damon was mocking him or giving an order, and he didnât dare ask. His legs carried him onward like a puppet on strings, deeper into the abyss-eaten city.
And behind him, Damonâs grin only widened. He could already feel someoneâs presence, a certain someone who liked high-vantage points.
Damonâs crimson eyes flicked upward to a small jagged hill made of solidified abyssal essence. Through the fog, he caught the faint shimmer of mana lingering in the air, traces of concealment, poorly woven. His grin sharpened.
Magicaa staggered on, unaware, or perhaps too broken to notice that his guildmate was watching from above. Damon didnât say a word. He silently disappeared and appeared next to his target.
A single slap was enough to bring the person out of stealth and then one more swipe of his claw was enough to deal with the guy. But Damon clicked his tongue in disappointment. "I thought you were Aurex." Nevertheless, he absorbed the blood essence of the guy leaving behind only the drained husk.
[Ding! You have extracted the skill Phantom Heist]
Phantom Heist: B Rank, Active
A ghostly hand slips into the victimâs aura and yanks out glowing fragments. Allows the thief to "steal" more than just items. This skill lets them reach into an enemyâs status or ability pool for a brief moment. Higher ranks might let them permanently siphon weaker skills.
[Ding! You have extracted +1 agility]
[Ding! You have slain the player Dreadwalker]
[Ding! You have gained +1000 Fame]
[Ding! You have gained +1 Notoreity]
Damon was shocked to say the least. He definitely did not expect a random guy to be this overpowered. The guy even dropped a B rank skill and not to mention 1000 fame!
That too the B rank skill wasnât ordinary in the least. It definitely had the potential to become a higher rank skill with upgrades. Just who the hell was this Dreadwalker?
Damon was pretty sure that he had never heard of such a name before, even in his last life, and yet he was secretly overpowered. It only goes to show that his knowledge about the game was only superficial at best. There were a lot of hidden dragons and crouching tigers he needed to be prepared for.
He made a mental note to revisit the spawn point to plunder from this guy a couple more times. If he dropped a B rank skill this easily, then chances were that he had more than one good skill to give out.
The timing of it was everything. He had so many juicy targets today, and he needed to hit all of that just right.
Damon did not linger and immediately returned to Magicaaâs side. There was no reaction from the guy. He hadnât even noticed that Damon had gone missing for the last few seconds.
The poor guy was so out of it that he simply kept shuffling forward, eyes vacant, as though his soul had already been wrung dry by the Abyss. His shoulders hunched lower with every step, his breathing ragged, and yet he forced his legs to move, like a puppet dangling on rotten strings.
He then suddenly stopped and pointed forward. "Somewhere out here."
***
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