Chapter 683: Chapter 684: Pure Soul
This seemed familiar. Damon was sure he had seen that look before somewhere. The look Waton was giving him was one he had seen far too many times.
Though it had never been directed at him, he was certain he had seen the pimps on the streets of Valerion look at the prostitutes they worked with the same way.
He almost felt as if the limp Waton would scream, "Bitch, get my money," at him.
A pimp’s job was hard; they really had to sell the product. In this case, the product was Damon, and Waton was fighting for his life.
The Wendigo, or rather Wendy as Damon called her, seemed uncertain.
Waton saw hope. Coughing up blood and lying on the ground, he wheezed, struggling to speak.
"You c...can kill him after you get your children..."
Damon’s expression was deadpan. This was ridiculous. Was he really being pimped to a Wendigo by Waton?
He tried getting ready for another attack, but the Wendigo grabbed Waton and held him in front of her, muttering the same words as before.
"Make more... how make more... how I make more..."
Waton was already teetering on the edge, about to die.
"He... heal... me..." he pleaded weakly as his vision began to fade, unsure if it was blood loss or the angel of death coming to visit him.
Wendy seemed taken aback.
She glanced at Damon, recalling that this wretch had a way to heal lethal wounds by drinking something.
Damon sighed, tossing a healing potion toward Waton, which was caught by the Wendigo. She crushed the vial into his wounds, letting the potion soak in as she healed him, still holding him firmly in her grasp.
She crawled toward her bone blade, which was lying on the floor, and picked it up, holding Waton hostage as his wounds began to close. The prince gasped, realizing he had just earned himself another few minutes of life.
Damon sighed. Wendy wasn’t giving him any openings. He just needed her to slip up a little, then he would draw his bow and shoot her.
He tried to steady his breathing, but he might have been in even worse shape than Waton. This was supposed to be an opportunity to rest and recover, but....
’Well, that’s fine... I just need to hold on until the time limit is over, then summon Matia.’
Wendy seemed intrigued, and right before the broadcasting magic orbs, Waton went into a long, desperate lecture on how reproduction worked. Like a sponge, Wendy absorbed all that knowledge, her face lighting up like that of a child who had just discovered where babies actually came from.
She whispered softly, her tone filled with awe.
"No... no magic... just flesh."
Waton nodded vigorously and went into even more visceral detail, including his own personal experiences.
She turned to Damon, her eyes narrowing before muttering in a low, guttural voice.
"Pay back children... then die."
Damon sighed with a faint smile.
"Ahhh, you’re right... I agree."
Waton’s eyes widened, tears welling up.
"Y... you would sacrifice yourself for me..."
Damon smiled, his eyes distant.
"Of course... I deserve this... but you are innocent. You must live, Wagon."
Waton was moved to tears. The Wendigo suspected something, since she knew Damon was wicked, but after seeing Waton’s tears and Damon’s weakened state, she figured he couldn’t do anything.
She glanced toward the squirrel that had moved to one corner of the tent, watching the proceedings silently.
"Me trust human..." she asked, seeking Scar’s approval as if that alone was enough to risk it. After all, this squirrel had been her next-door neighbor for a long time in the Evil Forest.
Scar remained calm, but when it saw Damon’s cold smile, the red squirrel hesitated, its scarlet fur gleaming in the dim light.
It had a passing thought.
This fiend had pissed off everyone imaginable, yet he was still alive. He had even been killed a few times but didn’t die.
Was it really wise to anger him for real?
It shuddered slightly.
Yes, the answer was simple.
Scar squealed and agreed with the Wendigo, assuring her that Damon was harmless. It even went into a short example of his weaknesses.
Damon smiled faintly, coughing up blood to sell the illusion of frailty.
Waton gasped as the Wendigo pushed him in front, her bone blade still resting against his back. She walked forward cautiously until she was close to Damon.
Then she glanced at the young man with blood trickling down his nose.
"Off... off clothes..."
Damon smiled, his eyes cold.
"That’s close enough."
He pointed his hand forward. A sharp bang burst from his finger, the projectile flying toward her head. But he wasn’t aiming for her skull; Waton was still in the way.
No, he aimed for her antlers. The magic bullet struck one, jerking her head back violently. Damon reacted instantly, pulling out his bow, and with a booming rip of air, he fired an arrow.
The arrow flew the instant the string left his fingers. Its force struck as she tried to lift her head again from the shock of being shot. Right as her head straightened, the arrow pierced straight through her eye.
It drove clean through, the tip puncturing her skull. Blood poured down her face as she touched the arrow with trembling fingers, her expression one of disbelief at what had just happened.
It was fast—too fast. A fluid, precise motion born from countless battles and cold calculation.
"Growl..."
She released her bone blade as she fell backward, her head crashing into a stool behind her.
Blood gushed out as her body went limp.
Damon coughed up blood, falling to his knees with a low, raspy chuckle.
"Hahahah..." Blood oozed from his mouth as he held onto one of the Soul Blaze potions.
"Hahaha... we’re even now... we’re even... now I’ve had my revenge... hahaha..."
He laughed, his grudge washing away with the sight of her corpse.
’I didn’t even have to waste a Soul Blaze potion...’
Waton grabbed Damon as he collapsed, blood dripping from his ears. His soul wounds were worsening.
He glanced weakly at the squirrel.
"Good job, Scar."
The smell of blood grew thicker as Damon’s head throbbed with intense agony.
It was in that moment he felt a strange clarity—a realization.
’Wai...t... the system didn’t notify me of her... death.’
His eyes widened in horror as he looked toward her corpse. Bloodshot and trembling, he watched as she stood back up, pulling the arrow from her eye.
Her one eye was a bloody mess, her expression dark and primal as she glared at Damon and Waton.
"I not die... I not able to die at your hand... this is my skill... [Pure Soul]."