**chapter 27**

**Chapter 27:The Preparation**

As Damon lay cradled in Velma's hands, he did not resemble the fierce competitor who had just performed with such intensity. Instead, he appeared undeniably handsome, captivating the women of the Heavenly Demons Sect. "He looks so gentle, as if he couldn't harm a fly," the onlookers murmured, their voices a blend of awe and admiration. When Damon's eyes fluttered open, they sparkled with an enchanting hue, a deep purple that drew attention, while his sclera transformed into an abyssal black, swallowing the white within, never to return.

"Such beautiful eyes, truly stunning," Velma whispered, her fingers grazing Damon's face. In a tender moment, he grasped her hand, drawing it near his lips. A blush crept onto Velma's cheeks as he inhaled her fragrance, his breath warm against her skin. "You smell divine, my little flower," he murmured, licking his lips, which sent her face into a deeper shade of crimson. "D-Damon, I suppose you can stand now," she stammered, her voice a mix of shyness and urgency. With a swift motion, she pushed his head aside and vanished from the stage, reappearing in her room. Locking the door behind her, she sank to her knees, overwhelmed by emotions she had never felt for any man before. She clutched the hand Damon had held, the lingering scent intoxicating her senses. Bringing her hand to her face, she inhaled deeply, a rush of ecstasy coursing through her.

Meanwhile, Damon regained his composure and stood tall. "Did you witness that? Him holding the hand of that toxic woman, even inhaling her scent, and yet nothing happened to him!" the spectators exclaimed, their surprise palpable. Suddenly, a booming voice echoed from the heavens, proclaiming, "Praise to the Heavenly Demon Blaire!" All eyes turned skyward as Heavenly Demon Blaire descended from his throne, approaching Damon with an air of familiarity. "You never cease to amaze me. Each time, you reveal something more formidable," he remarked, his tone casual yet filled with gravitas. The crowd gaped in disbelief as they witnessed this unexpected scene.

"Heavenly Demon Blaire, you flatter me excessively. This is my new home, my dominion, and I must exhibit strength and ferocity to safeguard my name," Damon replied, his voice steady and assertive.

"Well said, my boy! I always believed the esteemed one would produce a son-in-law capable of world-shaking feats," Blaire responded, joy evident in his tone.

"When did the Heavenly Demon become so personable?" an onlooker whispered. "He has always been a madman; what more is to unfold during this event?" murmured another, curiosity piqued.

"Damon Rim, today the Supreme Elders and I have reached a momentous decision that will undoubtedly alter the fate of our esteemed clan. However, this will be revealed during a ceremony," Blaire concluded. As his words hung in the air, two veiled women emerged on stage, gracefully escorting Damon to his chambers in preparation for the ceremony. As he stepped out of the arena, all eyes remained fixed upon him, silence enveloping the crowd until he vanished from their sight. In an instant, the arena erupted into a cacophony of excitement and chatter, a wave of energy as the event continued to unfold.

Damon glided with an air of sophistication toward his private chambers, flanked by two women who walked in unison beside him. As he reached his door, he slid it open and stepped inside, the weight of the world momentarily lifted from his shoulders. With a deliberate motion, he released the rubber tie that held back his hair, allowing it to fall freely as he made his way to the bed. Settling onto the edge, he cast a cool, unwavering gaze upon the women. "You may leave; I require no further assistance," he stated, his voice calm yet firm.

An involuntary tension gripped both women, despite their formidable status as experts in the king's realm. They felt an unsettling chill emanating from this newly emerged junior king, yet they pressed on, their voices tinged with trepidation. "Young lord, we do not wish to disobey your wishes. If you would allow us, we possess skills that far exceed those of the Pleasure Palace." One of the women stepped forward, her curves accentuated as she gracefully bent to pour a glass of tea. She approached Damon, kneeling in a seductive manner while presenting the tea with an inviting smile.

Damon moved closer to the woman's veiled face, his fingers gripping her chin. The other woman, lingering by the door, couldn't help but envy her companion's intimate moment with such a commanding figure. "I believe I instructed you to leave me be," he murmured, his grip tightening around the woman's neck, his voice a low whisper. "So delicate, like porcelain," he remarked, noting the way she struggled for breath. "I insist you both depart; I can manage from here."

Just then, a woman adorned in a fisherman's cap and a veil approached, carrying a bowl and a rag. The two maids hastily exited, and with a wave of her energy, she closed the door behind them. This enigmatic figure moved closer to Damon, placing the bowl on the ground. "May I have the honor of removing your upper garment?" she asked, her voice soft yet assured.

Damon sensed a familiar energy radiating from her, one that stirred something deep within him. He pulled her closer, his curiosity piqued. "My little flower, why do you behave so shy ?" he teased, mistaking her for Velma, whose voice and silhouette had long haunted his thoughts.

"Why are you so shy today? Reveal your beautiful face," he urged gently, his fingers moving toward the veil. But she stopped him, and understanding her reluctance, he relented. With a tender grace, she began to remove his upper garment, her movements fluid as she soaked the rag in water. The contours of her body captivated him, and as she wiped away the dirt and blood from his skin, he could feel her admiration. "A body perfectly sculpted, honed with honor over the years," she thought, her heart racing.

As she finished her task, a rush of shyness overcame her, compelling her to flee the room. Yet, as she glanced back, she was met with a gentle smile that could enchant any heart. Alone, Damon touched his face, pondering the unfamiliar warmth blossoming within him. "What is this sensation in my chest?" he mused, quickly donning a black robe reserved for those of high standing, leaving his hair to dance freely in the air around him.