8.I Am Grem

CHAPTER 8: I Am Grem

Damon's fingers tightened around the goblin's neck, his grip like iron. "This is mine now. Who dares trespass?"

The creature squirmed, limbs flailing like a wind-up toy gone awry. The room trembled, bathed in dim fluorescent light, as murals flickered on the walls, casting warped shadows that writhed and twisted like escapees from a nightmare. Ancient surfaces exuded a musty defiance, whispering tales of long-forgotten secrets.

"Bastard devil! Let me go!" the goblin screeched, its beady eyes wide with panic, claws scraping at Damon's gauntleted fist. Damon scrutinized the grotesque creature before him, curious as a child examining an unsettling bug.

"Oh no! My master's entrusted me to a devil!" Grem gasped, trembling in terror as his gaze darted to the gauntlets—dark artifacts pulsating with runes that throbbed with a life of their own. Surely, in its wildest dreams, a mere child had never wielded such power.

Damon leaned in, a smirk creeping across his lips. "I've never seen a creature more hideous," he said, voice dripping with mockery. The goblin's nose was a lumpy mess, its ears drooping like tattered flags.

"It's your father that's hideous!" The goblin spat back, suddenly fueled by indignation and a spark of defiance.

Irritation sparked in Damon's eyes as he tightened his grip. But the goblin gasped out, "Wait! I'm your guide in this void space!"

An eerie, comically high-pitched shriek erupted from the gauntlet. "Blood, master, give me blood!"

In an instant, panic washed over Grem. "Venerable one, please—let me go!"

Damon blinked, bewildered. "You can hear the cries of the gauntlet?"

"Ehh—it's me, Grem! I crafted it!" the goblin squeaked, desperation lacing his words as he fell to the ground with a disgruntled thud, rubbing his neck furiously.

"You insolent brat," Grem muttered, flailing an arm indignantly. "How dare you hold this Venerable One like a sack of moldy potatoes!"

With a dramatic stomp of his oversized foot, the room shifted—walls warped like melting wax, revealing a dim chamber filled with absurdly large cages. A unicorn with a crooked horn banged its head against the bars of its prison, snorting indignantly.

"This is a capture pen!" Grem announced, puffing up with pride. "The perfect place for a dangerous master like yourself!"

Damon stared, incredulity woven into his features. "This… is ridiculous."

Grem crossed his arms defiantly. "You may be a devil, but I must admit—you're different." He clicked his tongue, sulking slightly.

Damon fought back a grin. "You talk too much for a slave."

"I am unbothered by your cruel remarks!" Grem declared, tossing his head dramatically. In a flash of light, the scenery shifted once more.

Now they stood in a grand arena, the stone beneath them thrumming with energy, the air electric with anticipation. Flickers of lightning danced across the ceiling like lazy ghosts, while the metallic scent of magic mingled with the odor of scorched earth.

"This is your training room," Grem announced with a flourish. "It adapts to your affinity. Both dark and lightning elements will flourish here. You're welcome." He struck a pose, like a washed-up magician unveiling a forgotten relic.

"The mansion holds many secrets," he added, adopting a faux-ominous tone, "scripts of lost civilizations, doors to forgotten realms… Rooms even I've never dared to enter."

With an exaggerated bow that nearly sent him toppling, he declared, "It's all yours. Do as you will."

Damon rubbed his temples, fatigue creeping in. "I just need some peace and quiet…"

With a puff of glittering dust and an annoyed huff, Grem vanished.

Damon exhaled, shaking his head. "Such a strange creature."

He turned towards the platform ahead and stepped onto it, suddenly enveloped by a heavy weight of magic—not crushing, but alive, ancient, and vibrant.

He grinned. "Now this is more like it".

Electricity coiled beneath his skin as the runes surged with eagerness. He flexed his fingers, feeling the energy pulse beneath him.

"Regenerative rune…" Damon muttered, his eyes narrowing in determination. "Perfect. Time to test my limits."

Without hesitation, he bolted forward, a blur of motion. Each stride crackled with latent power. With a mighty stomp, he commanded the ground to obey, launching himself skyward like a bolt of lightning. Fire erupted from his throat, releasing a torrent of flame that sliced through the air like a burning comet.

For a heartbeat, Damon floated amid the chaos, laughter echoing as lightning struck different corners of the arena, illuminating his figure. "May madness reign!" he roared, crashing back down like a meteor into the dark part of the stage. Shadows embraced him, softening his fall and cradling the brilliance of five elements before him.

"Hahaha! Just like old times!" he shouted, the sound reverberating like a thunderclap from ancient gods.

High above, Grem watched in stunned silence, mouth agape, expression frozen in disbelief. "He… is a lunatic," he whispered, trembling. "Child, my ass—that's an old devil in there."

As dust curled around the arena like smoke from a battle long past, Grem vanished once more, slipping into the void, leaving behind a trail of sparkling dust, like a comet streaking across the cosmos.

Damon laughed into the infinite sky, manipulating the winds to lift him off the ground. He spread his arms wide, exultation rushing through him. "This life I shall rule once again!" He turned, taking a few steps before vanishing into the void.

---

Meanwhile, the mansion buzzed with feverish energy. Dora stood at the helm, directing maids and workers with fierce diligence. The night was to celebrate her son, and her heart swelled with pride.

"Nero!" she called, and instantly, a maid appeared, dropping to her knees.

"My lord, you summoned me!" Nero exclaimed.

"Don't do that," Dora scolded gently, lifting him with her words. "Help me fetch Damon and bring him this cloth." She placed the delicate fabric into Nero's outstretched palm.

Nero nodded and hurried to Damon's room, pausing hesitantly before the door, her hand hovering above the knob. "No, the young lord would be upset if I barged in like that," she chastised herself, shifting her hand into a knocking gesture.

"Come in, Nero," came Damon's voice from within.

Startled, she quickly opened the door, anticipation flickering in her heart. The night was just beginning, and the air crackled with the promise of magic and destiny.