Solo Ascension

Shadows of Azure Dragon Guild

[Goddess of Fate]: I did not ask you.

[Goddess of Fate]: I gave you the thread to walk the maze safely. I gave you the coat to block the S-Rank magic. I held your sister's heart together while you played hero.

[Goddess of Fate]: You owe me, Damon.

Damon clenched his fists. His jaw tightened so hard. The sudden shift from obsessive praise to controlling threats gave him a whiplash. She never let him forget who held the leash.

"Fine," Damon spoke, his voice thick with tiredness.

He turned and entered the massive glass-walled master bathroom. He didn't bother turning on the lights. The neon glow from the city outside provided enough illumination. He started to unbutton his dark shirt. He reached out and grabbed the hovering Omni-View camera, turning the lens toward the blank wall.

"I said fine," Damon muttered. "Just give me ten minutes of privacy."

The camera suddenly hummed loudly. It ripped itself out of Damon's grip, levitating backward until it hovered in front of the glass shower doors. It rotated, and the red recording light staring into his eyes.

The crimson screen flashed so brightly it illuminated the dark bathroom in a bloody red glow.

[The Goddess of Fate is glaring at you.]

[Goddess of Fate]: Do not ever turn the camera away from me.

[Goddess of Fate]: I am your only viewer. I am your only God.

[Goddess of Fate]: Take your clothes off, Damon. I want to watch you wash the blood away. Every single drop.

Damon froze, his hands darting over the buttons of his shirt. A primal sense of humiliation and dread washed over him.

This was a psychological power play. She was stripping away every single boundary he had left. She wanted him to know utterly that he had no secrets, no privacy and control over his own body.

He looked at the unblinking red lens. He could feel her gaze passing through the glass, through the lens, burning into his skin from far away.

Slowly, with trembling fingers, Damon unbuttoned his shirt. He let it drop to the cold floor.

[The Goddess of Fate is smiling warmly.]

[The Goddess of Fate has donated 1,000,000 Karma Points!]

[Goddess of Fate]: Good boy.

Chapter 8 - Shadows of Azure Dragon Guild.

The hot water felt like ice against his skin. Damon stood still under the spray of the shower. He didn't use soap or scrub his hair. He just let the water wash away the dried monster blood and the stench of the S-Rank labyrinth. Through the glass door of the shower, the Omni-View camera hovered silently in the dark bathroom. The tiny red recording light pierced through the steam, burning into Damon’s back.

He could feel her eyes. It was a sensation, like a suffocating blanket wrapped tightly around his throat. She watched every drop of water trace down his chest. She watched his chest expand and contract with every breath.

[Goddess of Fate]: Turn around.

[Goddess of Fate]: I want to see your face.

Damon closed his eyes, his fists clenching at his sides until his knuckles turned white. The overwhelming humiliation made his stomach churn. He was a Level 50 Awakened. He had just slaughtered an S-Rank boss with a single swing. Yet, here he was a prisoner in his own bathroom.

He slowly turned around, facing the glass door. He kept his expression blank, burying his boiling rage inside his chest.

[The Goddess of Fate is sighing in satisfaction.]

[The Goddess of Fate has donated 2,000,000 Karma Points!]

[Goddess of Fate]: You are flawless. My beautiful weapon. Dry yourself now. You need to rest.

Damon turned off the water. He stepped out of the shower, grabbing a white towel from the rack. He dried himself off quickly and pulled on a simple pair of black sweatpants and a loose dark grey shirt. He didn't bother drying his hair, letting the wet strands fall into his eyes. He walked out of the bathroom and into the silent living room.

The adrenaline from the labyrinth had faded, leaving behind a sharp clarity. He sat down on the edge of the expensive leather couch. He needed to get stronger. The Mythic weapon and the coat were powerful, but they were borrowed power. They belonged to her. If he ever wanted to break this contract and free himself from her psychotic gaze, he needed his own strength. He needed to understand the Divine Spark she had placed inside his soul.

But first, he had loot to open.

"System," Damon whispered. "Open Inventory. Extract S-Rank Relic Box."

A small carved wooden box appeared instantly on the glass coffee table in front of him. It was shining with a faint, golden light. S-Rank Relics were rare. They were usually only awarded for achieving impossible feats, like clearing an S-Rank scenario solo and breaking a global time record.

Damon reached out and unlatched the tiny golden lock. The box sprang open. Inside, resting on a bed of black velvet, there was a dull silver ring. It looked like a cheap piece of junk you could buy at a street market.

Damon picked it up. The blue system screen generated the item details.

[Item Name: Ring of the Silent King]

[Grade: S-Rank]

[Description: A relic forged by a tyrant who hated the sound of breathing. When activated, it generates a 'Domain of Silence' within a fifty meter radius. Inside this domain, no sound can be created, and no sound can escape.]

[Cost to Activate: 10 Mana per minute.]

Damon raised an eyebrow. It wasn't a weapon, and it didn't boost his stats. But for someone who wanted to avoid drawing the attention of the Awakened Association while slaughtering his enemies, it was a perfect tool.

He slipped the cold silver ring onto his left index finger. It shrank to fit perfectly. Just as he rested his hands on his lap, the crimson chat box pushed the blue system screens away.

[The Goddess of Fate is glaring at the windows.]

[Goddess of Fate]: Filthy rats.

[Goddess of Fate]: Damon. We have guests. They brought the stench of death to our door.

Damon froze. He didn't look at the camera. He instantly expanded his mana senses, pushing his A-Rank perception outward. He felt it. Three distinct, cold mana signatures were clinging to the outside of his penthouse building. They were scaling the sheer glass wall of the skyscraper, dozens of stories above the street, moving with the eerie silence of spiders.

‘Assassins,’ Damon thought, his eyes narrowing.

The security system of the Roppongi penthouse was top-tier. The windows were blast proof, rated to withstand a C-Rank missile strike, but physical defenses meant nothing against high level magic.

Outside the window, a patch of the glass suddenly turned black. The shadow seemed to melt the solid material, creating a portal of dark energy. Three figures stepped through the shadow portal, silently on the hardwood floor of Damon’s living room. They wore tight black combat suits and featureless black masks. They held jagged, poisoned daggers that absorbed the light. They were the Shadows, the unregistered squad of the Azure Dragon Guild. They looked around the dark room. They saw Damon sitting on the couch, his back facing them, his head bowed. To them, he looked like an exhausted, helpless rookie who had fallen asleep sitting up.

The lead assassin raised his hand, signaling the other two to fan out. They moved with silence, their boots making zero sound against the wood. They were professionals, sponsored by the God of Death, trained to slit throats before their victims even woke up. The leader crept behind the couch. He raised his poisoned dagger, aiming for the base of Damon’s neck to sever the spinal cord instantly. He thrust the blade downward.

CLANG!!

The jagged dagger struck a wall of force two inches from Damon’s neck. The impact sent a shockwave, crawling up the assassin’s arm, nearly dislocating his shoulder.

The leader’s eyes widened behind his mask. ‘A barrier? The intel said the target was an F-Rank porter with no defensive magic!’

Damon didn't even turn around. He simply raised his left hand, the dull silver ring on his finger catching the faint neon light from the city outside.

"Domain of Silence," Damon whispered.