Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 147: My Own Damn Summon Turn Into a Third Wheel

Warlock Ch 147. My Own Damn Summon Turn Into a Third Wheel

"Right… 'Return!'" Damian said dryly, glaring at the wolf.

With a swirl of shadowy mist, Fenrith vanished, leaving the room eerily quiet. Damian leaned back, shaking his head. "Can't even get a moment alone without my own damn summon turning into a third wheel."

Evelyn shook her head, still laughing softly. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be this big, bad warlock, you get flustered way too easily."

"Flustered?" Damian shot her a mock-offended look. "Please. I don't get flustered. I'm the picture of composure."

Evelyn smirked, crossing her arms. "Sure, Mr. Composure. But before you try anything else…" She pointed at him, her tone suddenly shifting into something more practical. "You need to take a bath. You're a mess."

Damian blinked, glancing down at himself. His shirt was smeared with dirt and sweat, his hair sticking out in every direction like he'd been caught in a tornado. "I'm not that bad," he muttered, though even he didn't sound convinced.

"You are," Evelyn said firmly, standing and placing her hands on her hips. "And I still need to cook your dinner. Speaking of which…" She cocked her head, her expression softening into a teasing smile. "I can hear your stomach grumbling from here."

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Right on cue, a low growl echoed from Damian's midsection. He froze, his eyes narrowing as if his stomach had betrayed him. "Traitor," he muttered under his breath, earning a laugh from Evelyn.

"Go," she said, shooing him toward the bathroom. "Shower, clean up, and let me handle dinner. You've had a long day."

Damian sighed, pushing himself up from the couch. "Fine, fine. But don't think this means I'm letting you off the hook."

"Hook?" Evelyn arched an eyebrow, her smile turning sly. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

Damian smirked, leaning closer as he passed her. "You'll see what I mean later."

Evelyn rolled her eyes, though her cheeks flushed again. "Go. Before I put something in your dinner that'll knock you out until morning."

Damian smirked, his eyes gleaming with mock defiance. "Oh, please, have mercy on me," he said, his tone dramatically pleading. "I still have books to read tonight. Cassius might actually kill me if I don't."

Evelyn tilted her head, her lips curving into a teasing smile. "Then you'd better act nicely, or I'll make sure that sleep lasts longer than you planned."

He chuckled, giving her a mock salute as he started walking toward the bathroom. "Yes, ma'am. Anything to avoid death by soup."

Her laughter followed him down the hallway, light and warm, as he pushed open the bathroom door.

The bathroom was quiet, save for the soft hum of the overhead light and the faint drip of the faucet. Damian turned the shower on, letting the sound of rushing water fill the room. Steam began to rise. He leaned against the sink, staring at his reflection in the foggy mirror. His messy hair, tired eyes, and faint smudges of dirt and ash across his face painted a picture of someone who'd been through the wringer—and then some.

"Some warlock," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair before stripping off his dirty clothes and stepping into the shower.

The hot water hit his skin, washing away the grime and tension, and for a moment, he just stood there, letting it cascade over him. His muscles relaxed, and he felt a flicker of relief, but his mind was far from quiet. As the water ran down his arms, his eyes drifted to his hands.

They looked normal enough, but to him, they held a history—one of destruction, power, and decisions he still didn't fully understand. He flexed his fingers, water dripping from his fingertips, and an old memory surfaced, unbidden.

The memory of controlling the elements. The rush of fire roaring to life in his palm, the ground shaking beneath his feet, the wind bending to his will. It had been second nature to him as Kaelan, like breathing. And now?

Damian exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. The urge to try it again gnawed at him, like an itch he couldn't scratch. His wet hands glistened under the light, the droplets catching and refracting like tiny prisms. It reminded him of manipulating water, shaping it with nothing more than a thought and a spark of Mana.

"Let's see…" he murmured to himself, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. The steam around him thickened as he reached inward, searching for the well of Mana he knew was there.

Focus. Control. Breathe.

He concentrated, willing his Mana to respond. He imagined the water bending to his will, swirling and twisting around his hands like living ribbons. It was something only high-level magi were supposed to do—creating a skill from scratch, shaping raw energy into something tangible. But he wasn't just any warlock. He remembered how it worked, even if the specifics were fuzzy. It was muscle memory, buried deep but undeniable.

The air around him seemed to hum with potential, the faintest flicker of energy dancing at his fingertips. His heart raced, anticipation building as he pushed harder, reaching for the connection he knew should be there.

And then… nothing.

The flicker snuffed out like a candle in the wind, leaving him with nothing but the sound of the water and the bitter sting of failure.

[You cannot access elemental skills before reaching Rank S or forming a bond with a sorcerer.]

Damian groaned, slamming his palm against the tile wall. "Great. Thanks for the reminder, genius," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

He leaned back against the wall, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. "It's still there," he muttered to himself, staring at his hands again. "I know it is. Some part of me remembers… but not enough."

"Rank S," he repeated bitterly, running a hand through his wet hair. "Or a sorcerer... Aria…" He scoffed bitterly. "That's the same as suicide."

He let out a humorless laugh, turning his face up toward the showerhead and letting the water cascade over him. The frustration didn't fade, but the heat of the water helped dull its edges.