There was so degree of shock in Damon’s eyes because it was a symbol of a god. But the reason he was truly surprised was because it wasn’t the ominous mark of the Unknown God radiating before him, not sothing that carried both holy and unholy traits.
This was the symbol of the Goddess of Doom, a bleeding heart.
All who knew of this symbol revered it.
This particular symbol wasn’t often used or seen publicly. Statues of her were far more common. However, this was the highest and purest form of her mark, a bleeding heart that symbolized war, death, and doom itself.
Damon moved closer to examine it. When he got near enough, he noticed that Wendy’s blood was being absorbed into the symbol, slowly spreading through unseen channels beneath the ground.
He reached out his hand to touch it but froze midway.
He knew better than to interfere with Doom... or any true god, for that matter. The last ti he had rely learned sothing about the nature of their secret, he was destroyed for it.
Luckily, the Unknown God had brought him back.
Still, Damon bit his lip. Sothing about this mark felt wrong deeply ominous. Why would Doom hide sothing like this? Why siphon blood from Wendy?
The Unknown God had made sure Wendy ca here. It was feasible to think this was all part of his plan.
So Damon bit down harder, his jaw tight, and pressed his hand to the mark. The instant he did, the world disappeared from his view.
His heart stopped beating. His head felt frozen. The world around him beca a lightless darkness alien, wrong, and suffocating.
This aura... he had felt it many tis before. But this ti it was different far more intense, far more consuming.
It was a familiar feeling, the sa one he felt when he reached into his shadow storage.
This was the Unknown God’s presence.
Damon ripped his hand away, cold sweat breaking out across his face as he coughed blood onto the altar.
Yes an altar.
It had been an altar all along, buried beneath the ruins this entire ti.
Damon spread his shadow perception across the area, letting it seep into the earth and debris, and then he noticed sothing unsettling.
’Where’s the blood from the demon beasts we killed?’
While he and Wendy fought, they had slain a few creatures, yet not a single trace of their blood remained. Damon turned toward the broadcast magic orb hovering nearby, but it didn’t seem to be working.
Its surface was frozen mid-image, as if whatever was happening here wasn’t ant to be seen by anyone.
Damon bit his lip again, muttering, "Ahhh, I have a feeling I’m about to experience sothing extrely horrible and traumatizing."
He turned around to find Wendy standing before him, fully healed, her expression serious.
Damon frowned awkwardly.
’She doesn’t realize I can’t fight right now...’
"Wha... what do you want?" he asked coldly, facing the woman wrapped in white blankets.
She blinked, studying him. Then she repeated softly, "Wha... what do you want..."
Damon sighed, realizing she was mimicking him, probably trying to learn how to speak properly. She was already improving, though.
He glanced at her, then at the blanket draped loosely over her figure.
"Hmmm, I can’t have you going around in those, now can I? Hold on, I have so girl clothes here."
Damon reached into his shadow storage and pulled out a short-length dress that obviously belonged to Abellona of Valtheron. He handed it to her.
She glanced at it curiously, then let go of the white blanket. Damon’s eyes widened as he hurriedly reached forward, pressing the blanket back against her chest to stop it from falling his hand inadvertently grabbing her in the process.
"Ahh... ahh..." He froze, forcing an awkward smile while still feeling the softness under his hand. Then he spoke quickly, more to the orbs than to her.
"This looks worse than it looks..."
She didn’t understand what he ant, but thankfully she didn’t attack him. Damon pulled the blanket up again, covering her properly.
"Wear this," he said, offering the dress.
She took it, sniffing it with her nose.
"No, no... not sll strong."
Damon almost coughed blood again, both from his injuries and from anger.
"Huh? Are yah crazy? This is piyon! It’s worth several million zeni, and it’s really durable! I was going to sell it! Besides, apparently it’s exclusive, this used to belong to a princess! How dare you disrespect money like that!"
Wendy bared her fangs slightly but restrained herself, growling softly.
"Starching it... and looking at it..." she murmured, still confused about how to wear it.
Damon sighed, showing her how to put it on before turning away and grabbing the magic orbs to stop the broadcast.
As soon as his hand touched them, the dallions Waton had given him disappeared.
He sneered. "So that’s the penalty for touching them. I wonder what the penalty for destroying them would be."
After a few monts, he figured Wendy was dressed, so he turned around. She was wearing the dress now, and he let out a long sigh of relief.
Then his eyes moved to her hair tangled, unkempt, and filled with dust, soothe and ash.
"We’re gonna have to clean you up," he muttered, "but we’ll do that later."
He turned again to find Waton running toward him, a squirrel perched on his shoulder.
The young prince stopped in front of him, smiling brightly.
"Haha... ahh... you won! I never doubted you!"
Damon rolled his eyes. "No shit..."
Waton grinned and approached Wendy.
"Congratulations, ma’am! You two finally settled your dispute! I’m always happy to see lovers get back together a broken heart is no good for anybody."
He seed genuinely excited.
"Be sure to invite to the naming ceremony when the baby, I an babies are born. I would gladly be their godfather!"
Damon just stood there, shooting the bastard a disgusted glare.
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