Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives

Warlock Ch 437. Perfect Scapegoat

Evelyn's worried eyes locked onto his, her trembling lips breaking into a radiant, relieved smile.

"Damian… you—you're here. You're back."

Damian exhaled slowly, feeling warmth, feeling life again. His lips curled gently upward, a faint smile—real, genuine, and finally free of pain.

"Hey…" he whispered softly, voice rough but clear. "Guess… I'm not allowed to die after all, huh?"

Evelyn laughed tearfully, pressing her forehead gently to his. "No. Never again."

Damian squeezed her hand gently, warmth and gratitude radiating through him.

He was alive. Truly, impossibly alive.

And for the first time in far too long, Damian let himself believe he might actually deserve it.

His breathing had evened out, the pain finally faded, and the world—still scorched, broken, burning—felt strangely quiet in this one fragile moment. Around him, his friends had gathered, clinging to the hope they thought they'd lost.

But then—

A sharp, metallic screech cut through the silence.

Boots stomped against cracked stone. Armor clinked in unison. A deep, controlled voice barked commands from the distance. The sound grew louder. Closer.

The backup had arrived.

Damian's hand instinctively went to his side, where his weapon should've been. But his Hellfire Spear had shattered, and his limbs still trembled from the soul-sealing agony. He wasn't ready for another fight.

The air thickened again, and not from smoke this time.

Evelyn turned sharply. "What the hell now?"

From the thick dust emerged at least a dozen figures—armored, glowing, powerful. Reinforcements. Or so they should've been.

But their eyes locked not on the ruined battlefield. Not on the fallen creature.

They locked on him.

"That's him," one of them spat, voice laced with venom. "Kaelan."

Damian's heart sank.

Another senator stepped forward, flanked by mages in dark red ceremonial robes. They pointed directly at him, faces twisted in a mix of awe, fear, and deep-rooted hatred.

"It's true then," one of the robed men hissed. "He survived. The Evil One still walks."

Evelyn's body shifted protectively in front of Damian before he could even move. "The hell he does," she snapped. "He just saved all your damn lives."

But they didn't listen.

"You dare defend him?" barked the first senator. "This man, this Kaelan, committed unspeakable crimes. He stole sacred artifacts. Desecrated relics. Brought death to royal lines. Now you shield him?"

Damian slowly pulled himself to a seated position, his eyes dull. There was no fire left in them. Only something old. Tired.

He opened his mouth. "I didn't do those things," he said quietly. "You know I didn't."

But they didn't care.

"You'll speak for yourself before the Grand Tribunal," the lead senator said coldly. "You will be bound. Stripped of your mana. And judged."

Damian let out a soft laugh.

Not angry. Not even bitter.

Just… ironic.

"Even with rebirth," he whispered to himself, "it's the same again…"

Same shadows. Same pointed fingers. Same fate. He saved them, and still—still—they wanted to drag him in chains.

Aria stepped forward, her white robes torn, her silver hair tangled and bloodied, but her stance unshaken.

"That's enough."

The senators stiffened.

Aria walked directly in front of Damian, placing herself between him and the encroaching soldiers.

"You point your blades at a man who just sealed a god-tier threat with his soul. You know who he is—and yet you still lie."

The older senator sneered. "You are no longer one of us, Aria. You lost that right when you decided to help him."

Aria's lips tightened. "I stand where I should stand. And Damian is not your villain."

The soldiers began to spread out, surrounding them. Hands went to weapons. Mana flared again.

"This is bad," Selena murmured.

"I know," Victoria said, baring her fangs, her fingers twitching near her glaive. "I really didn't want to kill anyone else today. But they're asking for it."

"I got a record rune," Evelyn suddenly shouted, raising a shimmering orb from her satchel. "Ralvek's confession is all here. His voice. His face. Him admitting it. He used Kaelan's name to commit those crimes."

She tossed the rune forward. It hovered midair, flickering. Ralvek's voice filled the air, grainy but unmistakable:

"Kaelan's name… perfect scapegoat. The world already hates him. Blame everything on a ghost. No one will ever know."

The senators went still.

"Fabrication," one of them spat. "You forged that."

"I dare you to test it," Evelyn snapped.

Then Cedric stepped forward, standing taller despite the weakness still in his limbs. "This man saved me. And my sister. If you dare lay hands on him… the fae will consider it a declaration of war."

Selena stood beside him, blades drawn, eyes cold as steel. "You won't take him. Not after everything."

Victoria stepped into their line, her red eyes glowing faintly. "He has my blessing," she said calmly. "He risked his life for the vampire tribe. You call him a villain? We call him a hero."

"And don't forget this," Lysandra growled, stepping beside them and gripping Damian's shoulder. She pulled his shirt aside, revealing the gleaming silver-blue sigil etched into his skin.

A dragon's mark.

"The Dragon Tribe already welcomed him. This man bears our crest. You so much as touch him, and you'll see how dragons hold grudges."

The air trembled. The ground seemed to quake beneath their combined mana.

But the senators stood firm.

"You're all compromised," one muttered. "You've lost your objectivity."

Aria's voice rang sharp as crystal. "And you've lost your humanity."

Silence fell.

Tension crackled like a drawn blade.

The fae soldiers behind Selena began to raise their hands.

The vampire vanguard positioned behind Victoria began to fan out, claws extended, fangs bared.

Even the few dragonkin scouts left with Lysandra started to growl.

This wasn't a negotiation anymore.

This was a standoff.

"This is madness," one of the younger mages behind the senators whispered nervously.

"It's war," someone else murmured back.

Damian stood slowly. The glow of the Elysian Rebirth still lingered faintly on his skin. His clothes were scorched. His body exhausted. But he stood.

He looked at the crowd—at the people who wanted to chain him again, judge him again, destroy him again—and then at his friends who stood ready to fight beside him.

Even now.

Even here.

"I never wanted to be your hero," he said quietly. "I just didn't want to be your scapegoat."

He took a breath.

"I fought. I bled. I died to protect this city. And now you call me a monster again."