Chapter 550: Target Neutralized
No words were exchanged. All she did was look at this mysterious man in front of her.
There was a soft, regal aura about him; he was calm, as if unbothered by her nudity or her beauty.
He wore a crown upon his head, his long dark hair matching the elegance of his beautiful light armor. A darkness lingered in his eyes, one that refused to reflect any light at all.
It was like the night.
Damon kept his expression calm. His unusual confidence gave her pause did he not care that he was surrounded by knights, some of them officers in the fourth class advancement?
Was he more powerful than them, to have gotten inside without anyone noticing?
Was he an assassin sent to kill her? He wouldn't be the first…
Many thoughts ran through her head.
Damon waited for her to answer his question, remaining perfectly still with that familiar hint of baseless arrogance.
She slowly turned toward the bed where her spear lay, taking her time as she stepped toward the dress she'd left discarded on the floor.
Damon already felt the awkwardness creeping in, but whoever lost their cool first would lose the advantage.
There was a small tremble in her hands that told Damon she was not as calm as she appeared.
And the faint redness on her ears… though he was unsure if it came from rage or embarrassment.
She picked up the dress, pulling it up from her feet with slow, deliberate movements.
Damon's danger sense suddenly screamed to life as she dashed toward her spear on the bed.
He didn't even see her raise it — all he heard was the word:
"Die…"
What followed wasn't destruction from flame or force… it was simply destruction itself.
Damon reacted instantly, his form melting into shadow before teleporting out of the tent just as a deafening boom tore through the camp.
He felt aggrieved really, he did. He was just asking her who she was. Sure, he'd sounded arrogant… but that was simply the way Damon Grey worked.
It wasn't his fault she'd come out of the bath naked in her own private chamber, in her own private tent, where no one else was supposed to be.
He'd done nothing wrong. He was just there to get what was owed to him.
"I'm just collecting debt, dammit."
Damon wasn't a fool — reckless, yes, but not foolish. He had already planned his escape.
As the chaos erupted in the main tent, every knight and attendant rushed to protect their lady.
He knew that for this reason she would take her time to get dressed before making her move.
With their formation breaking to converge on the central tent, other parts of the camp would be left unguarded.
While they charged in, Damon teleported directly beside the magic artifact powering the barrier. As soon as he appeared, he drew his broken sword, ignited it with the flames of Ashborn, and drove it into the artifact's core.
The black fire cut through its metallic frame with only a flicker of resistance.
The barrier around the camp sputtered and collapsed. Damon's next step placed him beside the dragon horses tied to the pickets.
He released each one, sending a few magic bullets into the air to scatter them into a frenzy.
As they bolted, his sword whirled from his grasp, decapitating one of the dragon horses instantly.
That one belonged to the knight that had killed his stag.
"Intruder!"
One of the knights spotted him. Damon vaulted onto the nearest mount, leaping over the corpse of the slain beast.
His sword returned to his hand as he spurred the dragon horse forward, diving into the dark forest ahead.
Before he got far, a sharp chill ran down his neck, instinct made him duck before his danger sense could even fully register.
A soft slicing sound cut the air.
When he raised his head, all the trees within a kilometer in every direction had been severed cleanly.
His face paled. A deep shadow loomed behind him.
One of the fourth-class advancement knights had moved — and it hadn't even been with a sword. Just a wave of the man's hand.
'I did not think this through…'
The dragon horse, a rank-three magic beast, decreased the distance with incredible speed, but Damon could feel the shadows of pursuit closing in.
He'd scattered their mounts, but that meant little — these knights were superhuman, able to run him down on foot.
Wind tore through his hair as the hooves thundered beneath him, the rhythm matched by the organized charge of those behind.
Arrows streaked through the air, forcing him to weave and twist in the saddle, never slowing his pace.
The dragon horse's breathing grew heavier, but Damon urged it on, hooves barely skimming the ground.
This was their beast, their property — and he was using it against them.
Sweat ran down his temple as the wind roared past.
"Damn you bastard… you started this… you started this…"
He dove past a massive tree, his shoulder smashing through part of its trunk. Relief began to creep in — maybe he had lost them.
Then the world went white.
From above, a mage had hurled a sphere of pure destruction down at him.
Damon reined in the dragon horse there was no escaping it at this speed, not from that range.
In the distance, the knights closed in on foot, just in time to see him smile, arms spread wide as if welcoming the attack.
Light swallowed everything, erasing shadows as the blast incinerated the forest for several kilometers.
When it faded, nothing remained except the half-melted hooves of the dragon horse.
The knights approached cautiously, scanning the scorched ground.
One of them glanced at the others.
"Report back. Target neutralized."
He narrowed his eyes.
"However, to be safe, sweep several kilometers for any trace of dark or shadow attributes."
Naturally, Damon was long gone. Not because he could overpower their equipment or strength — no, not at all.
He had simply hidden in the one place they would never think to look.