Ivy didn’t say anything.
For a while, neither of them did.
The battlefield remained as ruined as before, littered with scorched earth and shattered stone. Yet despite that, everything felt different.
The voices were gone.
They weren’t quieter or simply paused, but truly and utterly gone.
The two of them lingered in that quiet for a moment before Ivy’s face lifted to look at Damon with a ridiculous smile written on her face.
"They’re gone," she said. "They’re really gone."
Damon let out a small, almost indistinguishable smile. "Good. So, how does freedom taste?"
Her smile, though it would seem impossible a moment earlier, brightened. "Pretty damn good."
At the same time, the scorched earth beside them crunched as Nyla approached.
"Not to ruin the happy ending and all, but the quest is still ongoing."
Damon and Ivy turned toward her in unison before turning their gazes back to one another.
He didn’t have to say anything before he felt a sudden change deep inside his abdomen. It was his core, and more than that, he could tell exactly what was happening.
Ivy granted him permission to use the Resurrection Technique.
"I guess it’s time to end the quest," he said.
Though despite his brave front, for the first time in months, he felt a little nervous.
As much as he had seen the technique in action, dying still sounded very final, and of course the last thing he wished to do was die because of some error.
Damon took a couple of slow breaths, steadying his racing heart before summoning the dark knight.
It was an obvious choice, one that didn’t require much thinking. If there was anyone Damon could trust with the next part of the plan, it was his summon who obeyed every order without hesitation.
And just like always, the second he sent the mental command, the dark knight stepped forward. His dark blade glistened under the sun before plunging deep inside Damon’s chest.
As much as both Ivy and Nyla were aware of his plan, and as much as they were aware of Ivy’s Resurrection technique, seeing Damon’s eyes lose their focus as the Dark Knight pulled his sword free was a sight they could never prepare for.
They both dropped to their knees beside Damon’s lifeless body.
His skin turned cold fast, faster than it should’ve. He remained in that state far longer than Ivy ever did, so much so that even she, while aware her technique was now his, began to worry.
"Damon?"
Of course, no response came from the lifeless corpse.
"W-Why isn’t he waking up?" Nyla’s eyes began to fill with tears as she shook Damon by the shoulders, trying to wake him up as though he were merely sleeping. "Wake up!"
"I-I don’t understand," Ivy murmured, her eyes widened in terror as she watched the body, which should’ve woken by now.
***
As Damon opened his eyes, instead of the clear blue sky he should’ve been lying under, he saw complete darkness stretching in every corner of his vision.
He lingered for a moment, puzzled by what he was, or perhaps wasn’t seeing before he slowly began to sit up.
But as he tried to prop his arms to lift his strangely strained body up, he realised that just as above him, everything below him was made of complete darkness.
And yet, he could still touch whatever that darkness was, and push himself up from it.
He stood up, his head whipping around in search of any source of light, but of course, there were none.
’Did the resurrection fail? ...No, something about this feels odd.’
If he had truly died, then why would he be seeing anything at all?
He frowned.
Despite how eerie this place was, there was something familiar about it, as if he had felt the strange sensation this place gave off before.
And just as he was about to place that strange feeling, a sudden loud voice cut through his very existence, each word reverberating through Damon’s entire body.
"At last, the one who had been ridiculing his creation had come."
At the same time, the darkness around Damon began to shift.
The dark below began to turn to something resembling a black tile, while the darkness above coalesced into a vaulted ceiling with countless arcs and ridges. The corner of Damon’s vision turned into walls made of obsidian blocks, each the size of a medium-sized car.
At the far end of the now-chamber was a large podium with a throne that spanned two meters wide and five meters tall.
On it, a figure cloaked in black armour that moved as if made of shadows. It had no eyes, only a dark greathelm that offered nothing but endless darkness from behind its visor.
Damon frowned. "Who are you?"
The figure remained still for a short while before speaking.
"That technique of the Phoenix Clan is quite persistent. Even now, inside of my domain, it is trying to take you back..."
There was a faint hint of amusement in the armoured figure’s voice, one that Damon didn’t fail to notice.
"You brought me here on purpose?"
"Brought you? No, you came here on your own. I did, however, await your arrival."
A moment of silence passed.
"To watch you, a mere mortal, treat his greatest creation as a plaything... it has been quite the spectacle."
Damon’s eyes narrowed. ’What is he talking about?’
"I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to be on my way now."
The figure on the throne didn’t respond. He simply sat there, watching Damon through the darkness of its visor.
"Did you expect your actions to go unnoticed, human?" he asked. "He had already taken notice, so I doubt that you will be allowed to roam free any longer. I am here to give you a chance."
Damon listened to every word with absolute precision. The Heavenly Comprehension was already active, already searching for any meaning behind the being’s vague words.
"A chance?" Damon raised a brow. "What kind of chance?"
"Become my spawn, and carry the biddings of death."
Damon paused for a moment before asking. "And if I refuse?"
"You die, naturally"