"Restrictions, huh?" Damon muttered under his breath, his gaze lingering on the woman kneeling before him.
The word rolled around in his head, heavy with implication. This wasn’t just about power limitations. This could be an opening. A crack in the wall of silence everyone else seed determined to maintain.
For the first ti in a long while, he realized he might be standing in front of soone who could actually talk to him.
Soone who wouldn’t deflect with riddles like Blood Reign or act like an unhelpful, smug dickhead like La Rocha. Both of them clearly knew far more than they let on, but one refused out of sheer indifference while the other hid behind the excuse of "for your own good."
Then there was the other snake woman, hostile, arrogant, and outright dismissive from the start. Another dead end.
But Eryndral... she was different.
Completely different. Not only had she submitted without a fight, but she addressed him as "Your Highness" and offered her claws, fangs, and magic without condition. If her loyalty was genuine, she might be the first person in this damned world willing to give him straight answers.
And I need those answers, Damon thought, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the system prompt again.
"Eryndra- Wait. Can I just call you Erin? Yup, that’s much better."
Eryndral’s head tilted slightly at the sudden change, her serpent-slit eyes blinking once in what might have been surprise. Then, slowly, she nodded. "If it pleases you, my highness, you may call whatever you wish." Her lips curved into the faintest smile, making her look even more srizing than before.
"Perfect." Damon stepped closer. "Can you get up now? We have a lot to chat about."
"Yes, your highness."
Erin rose gracefully. Even standing at her full height, she kept her head slightly bowed and waited patiently for Damon’s word.
Damon scratched his head awkwardly. Of course, he loved the fact that the monstrous dragon snake beast in front of him was now obedient and faithful to him, but a person acting this way in front of him made him very uncomfortable.
"Listen, Erin. You do not have to be so formal with ."
Erin blinked at him, her expression unreadable for a mont before the faintest trace of confusion crossed her features. "But... you are my highness. It is only proper."
"Yeah, well," Damon said, waving a hand dismissively, "I’m not exactly the crown-and-throne type. If you keep bowing and calling ’my highness’ every two seconds, I’m going to start feeling like I need to wear so ridiculous royal crown. And I hate crowns. I think they are very obnoxious. On the nose."
Erin smiled. "Then... how would you prefer I address you?"
"My Lord," he said simply. "All the others use the sa thing, so you might as well too. At least it doesn’t make feel like I should be sitting on so oversized golden chair."
Erin smiled again and nodded. "As you wish, my Lord."
"Also, please feel free to laugh and relax. You can also dance if you want. You do not have to be so rigid in my presence. I prefer that you show your loyalty and servitude in ways that actually matter, not in these trivial vain gestures."
Erin smiled once again, this ti a lot more relaxed. "As you wish, my Lord."
"So, are you going to invite into your lair or what? If we are going to chat for a while, we might as well do it in there. I am also very curious to see what you’ve got going on inside that place."
Erin imdiately beca a little anxious. "But my Lord, the miasma inside my lair is a lot stronger than the one here. I must warn you. Even though you are God’s heir, you might not be able to handle it just yet."
Damon gave her a lopsided grin. "About that. Give a few minutes. Let’s walk and talk." He slowly started walking towards the tall mountain. At the sa ti, he began absorbing all the miasma in the surroundings.
As they got closer and closer to the tall mountain, the intensity, the corruption, and the toxicity of the miasma exponentially increased, but Damon’s body was quickly adapting to it.
Erin gaped in awe and shock as she realized what was happening. Her steps faltered for the first ti, her normally composed expression breaking into open astonishnt.
"My Lord... you’re... consuming it?" Her voice carried disbelief, almost reverence. "This miasma is the heart-blood of my domain. Even my kin must tread carefully near its core, yet you..."
Damon glanced over his shoulder and smiled. "As your Lord, I should be capable of at least this much, right?"
The dense fog writhed around him as if aware of his presence, its corrupted energy flowing into his body in thick streams. The once-sickly energy was being devoured and claid, piece by piece.
Erin’s serpent-slit eyes widened further. "No wonder... no wonder he calls you heir," she murmured under her breath, as if speaking to herself. "Only one of his blood could drink from the venom sea and thrive..."
Damon heard her, but he did not bother correcting her. He couldn’t really be considered the Venom King’s heir yet, and he was definitely not of his blood, but hey, those details did not matter.
He half-expected the other snake woman to burst out in anger, but she remained unusually silent as if it was beneath her to participate in this whole thing. Damon did not care.
He continued slowly walking forward and absorbing everything that he could get his hands on. This ti, there was no hurry, and he took his sweet ti. When they finally arrived at the tall mountain, the entire territory had changed.
The foggy haze in the zone had disappeared, leaving behind only trace miasma here and there. The once oppressive darkness now looked strangely bare, the jagged rocks and withered trees standing starkly exposed without their shroud of venomous mist.
The air still carried a faint tang of corruption, but it was thin and almost non-existent. Erin stopped just short of the mountain’s base, glancing around as if she barely recognized her own territory.
***
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