Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 338: Sacrificial Lambs

Warlock Ch 338. Sacrificial Lambs

The revelation was too much.

This wasn't just manipulation. This wasn't just rigging an exam.

This was mass murder.

And it wasn't just the common people who were horrified.

Other magic academies, noble houses, independent mercenary guilds—everyone began to take notice.

The council members of the Sanctum were losing control.

There were protests—people gathering outside the Sanctum, demanding justice, demanding blood.

The once-pristine reputation of the highest governing body for warlocks and mages was now fractured.

And behind the scenes?

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The true culprits—the ones responsible for the assassination attempt on Selena, the ones who had orchestrated the rigged exam— They were desperate.

Because they didn't know who had leaked the rumors.

And that made them dangerous.

The assassination attempts intensified.

Before, the attacks were calculated, quiet. Subtle.

Now?

They were reckless.

They had to kill Damian.

They had to silence him before more truths surfaced.

He was attacked five times in a single day.

Poisoned daggers laced with mana inhibitors, shadow assassins sent into Cassius's estate, cursed familiars meant to track him down and detonate on sight— Each attempt more desperate than the last.

And yet— None of them worked.

Because Damian wasn't alone.

Because Cassius had turned his home into an impenetrable fortress.

Because Victoria's vampiric magic ensured that no intruder left alive.

Because Evelyn's runes wove defenses so intricate that even high-rank warlocks struggled to break through them.

But most of all— Because Damian had already survived worse.

And he wasn't about to die now. He was going to watch them break first.

One month passed.

The world outside was still a storm of rumors, trials, and quiet executions, but here—on the balcony of Cassius's estate—everything was strangely peaceful.

Damian sat in one of the ornate chairs, stretching his legs out, fingers lazily wrapped around a delicate porcelain teacup. Across from him, Cassius did the same, looking every bit like a noble indulging in a lazy afternoon.

The truth?

They were watching the chaos unfold.

Cassius had sent his shadow servants to spy on the outside world, slipping into every corner of the Sanctum, every secret meeting, every hushed conversation. Information poured in like a steady stream, and they sat there, sipping tea like it was just another pleasant day.

Cassius sighed, swirling his tea lazily. "You know, for a coup disguised as justice, this is actually going quite smoothly."

Damian took a slow sip, exhaling. "Mm."

Cassius smirked. "That's it? Mm?"

Damian huffed. "I've run out of energy to be surprised."

Because really, what was left to say?

The senators had been forced to take action—not because they wanted to, but because they had to. The public pressure had grown too loud, the fae royalty had pushed too hard, and there was simply no way to bury what had been exposed.

So, of course— They had turned on the Sanctum councils.

The same people who had once run the trials. The ones who had orchestrated the exams. The ones who had signed off on the manipulated rules.

Now, they were the sacrificial lambs.

Put on trial.

Disgraced.

Some were executed. Others met unfortunate accidents. Slipped down the stairs, drowned in their own bathtubs, disappeared in the middle of the night.

Damian took another sip of his tea. "You have to admire their efficiency," he murmured. "Cleaning up their mess so neatly."

Cassius smirked, resting his chin on his palm. "Neatly? No, no. This is a sloppy cover-up. They just hope no one notices."

Damian hummed. "And no one will."

Not officially.

Because the public got what they wanted.

Someone to blame.

A scandal big enough to satisfy their anger. A clean narrative.

Everything was unfolding exactly as the senators needed it to.

And yet— It wasn't over.

Because one name never made it to trial.

Ralvek.

Damian set his teacup down, tapping his fingers against the table.

"We still have a problem," he muttered.

Cassius tilted his head. "Only one?"

Damian sighed. "Fine. One big one."

Ralvek.

The bastard had slipped away.

Untouched. Unnamed. Unbothered.

Because no one had proof.

Not yet.

Cassius exhaled, stretching lazily. "Well, that just means we have more work to do."

Damian huffed. "I was hoping for a break."

Cassius grinned. "No rest for the wicked."

A shift in the air. The soft rustle of shadows stretching, reforming, slipping from the corners of the balcony like ink seeping into reality.

Damian barely moved as Cassius's shadow servants materialized before them, their forms flickering between solid and incorporeal.

Cassius didn't even bother to straighten in his chair. He simply tilted his head slightly, acknowledging them with a lazy glance.

The shadow servants bowed in unison, their voices smooth and cool as the night air.

"We have returned from the trial."

Damian set his teacup down. "And?"

One of the servants straightened. "Princess Selena has given her testimony."

Cassius hummed, swirling his tea. "And how graceful was our dear princess?"

The servant didn't hesitate. "She spoke calmly. Too calmly."

Damian's brow arched slightly. "Oh?"

"She followed the script perfectly," another shadow continued. "Stated the facts, confirmed the rigging of the exam, the food tampering, the forced combat." A pause followed. "She was careful not to accuse anyone directly or even mention you."

Cassius smirked. "Clever girl."

Damian exhaled through his nose. "So, she played it safe."

The servant nodded. "Yes. However, she did express her personal concerns—particularly about the timing of the assassination attempt."

Cassius's grin widened. "Oh, that must've made a few people sweat."

Another shadow stepped forward. "Indeed. Some of the senators looked visibly tense when she suggested that the attempt may have been planned before the exam even began."

Damian leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. "That means she's planting doubt."

Cassius let out a low chuckle. "Doubt is contagious."

Damian's gaze flickered toward the shadows. "And the crowd?"

One of the servants shifted slightly. "The public believes her. She is royalty—her words hold weight." A pause. "But the political figures?"

Damian narrowed his eyes.

"They expected her to speak, but they didn't expect her to be so composed," the shadow continued. "They were hoping for fear, for uncertainty."

Another pause. "Instead, she gave them control. And that makes her dangerous to them."