Chapter 337: Excited round table
Leaving Alaric alone, Damien soon was lost in though, he couldn’t believe he was finally back
Not only was that, but his chest unknowingly began to thump, as he couldn’t wait to make his mark on the world
He wanted everyone to know that he Zero was back!
So with that thought in mind, he made his way to his room
The subterranean guest quarters provided by King Durin were a masterpiece of Dwarven luxury, insulated against the ceaseless pounding of the Ironforge factories.
Damien sat in a high-backed leather chair, his coat draped over the armrest. He wasn’t wearing the silver mask of Mozart or the terrifying porcelain visage of Zero.
He was just Damien, his silver hair falling loosely around his shoulders, his heterochromatic eyes—one abyssal black, one blazing dragon gold—staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.
"The tea is ready, Master."
Isabelle stepped into his line of sight, placing a porcelain cup on the mahogany desk. Her skin was perfectly smooth, the terrifying, glowing red fissures that had once threatened to shatter her soul completely erased by the *Tear of Platinum*. She moved with a serene, lethal grace, the aura of a 7th-Order Demon Queen perfectly restrained beneath her pristine maid uniform.
"Thank you, Isabelle," Damien smiled, taking the cup. The warmth seeped into his fingers. "It feels strange. Drinking tea without having to filter out toxic ash and sulfur first."
Isabelle’s ruby eyes softened. "The Abyss is behind us, Master. You won."
"Not yet," Damien murmured, his gaze darkening. "Azazel is still stirring. The Central Empire is still hunting us. We just survived the prologue, Isabelle. Now, the real game begins."