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VoC: B1 — 32. First Kill
🕑 Added 2025-10-13 22:39:30 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Damon (Our Dhampir Former Prince!)
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The maid who’d guided Damon to his mother looked different now. Where before she’d been efficient and mysterious, now she was in her element. Her hands showed old calluses as she cleaned her blade on a dead man’s cloak—the motion casual, automatic, practiced.
Taking a few steadying breaths, she turned her cold eyes to him.
“Are you going to finish them? I left them alive so you can get the experience. They’d give me next to nothing,” she said, voice carrying none of its earlier servility. “If you’re going to survive in this world and protect what you love…this is just the entry fee.”
Damon looked at the bodies—arterial spray of the leader’s neck still leaking out. It took a lot longer to die in real life than in movies. Every action was clinical. Efficient. Precise. All done in complete silence. From complete invisibility.
He opened his mouth, arms beginning to tremble, but he bit back the words of protest that naturally tried to come out. She was right. He knew she was right. This wasn’t Earth.
His vision was blurry as he numbly let go of his precious cub. Yet, without being asked, Copper took one look at him and limped over to the gagging man, eyes going hollow, and without warning, sank his fangs into his throat, ripping it out.
The man…slowly stopped thrashing and went limp.
[You have slain Kestral Savvax - Level 10]
[Experience Gained: 120]
[EXP to Level 2: 380]
The word came out hoarse. Copper froze mid-stride, looking back with confusion bleeding through their connection. The cub couldn’t understand why Damon would hesitate, why mercy would enter the equation when these men had tried to kill them.
Because I’m not just an animal. Not yet. Not…
Damon forced himself to his feet, legs trembling. His back still burned from the lightning strike, flesh scorched beneath his shredded shirt. [Indomitable Will] kept him upright, kept him functional, but it couldn’t silence the part of him screaming that this was wrong, this was murder, this was crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.
“I need to do this myself,” he said quietly, more to convince himself than Copper. “For Soph and Aria, I have to cross this line at some point in this world… And it might as well be when I can take my time.”
When I can’t pretend it was an accident. When I have to own it.
The lie tasted bitter. This wasn’t about crossing necessary lines. This was about proving something to himself—that he could do what needed doing, that he was strong enough, that he wouldn’t break when the world demanded he become something harder than the boy who’d died in that car crash.
[Indomitable Will] pulsed stronger, dampening the nausea rising in his throat.
He stumbled forward, nearly tripping over debris. Copper limped beside him, offering what spiritual support the cub could muster. To Copper, this was natural—predator and prey, survival of the fittest. But Damon could feel the bear trying to understand his alpha’s distress, confused by the complex emotions bleeding through their bond.
It’s okay, bud. I’m… I’ll be okay.
He collapsed in front of the paralyzed man, whose wide eyes streamed tears. The assassin’s lips moved soundlessly, pleading for mercy he must have known wouldn’t come. How many times had he done this to others? How many people had begged him to stop?
Does it matter? Does knowing he’s a murderer make me less of one?
Damon’s thorn-infused palm hovered over the man’s chest. Through the rips in the assassin’s shirt, he could see his heart beating frantically beneath skin and muscle. So fast. So desperate to keep pumping, to keep this person alive for just one more second, one more breath.
He thought of Sophia, alone somewhere in the dark. Aria, waiting for him at the inn. His mother in her cell. All the people depending on him to be strong enough, hard enough, ruthless enough to survive in this world that wanted him dead.
I’m sorry. I have too much to lose…
He put his weight against his palm.
Felt flesh part. Bone fracture. The wet resistance of a pumping heart.
The man’s eyes glazed over. His body went slack. The desperate rhythm beneath Damon’s hand stuttered once, twice, then stopped.
[You have slain Jorath Savvax - Level 10]
[Experience Gained: 120]
Damon stared at his hand—at the blood, at the torn flesh caught under his thorns, at the physical evidence that he’d just ended a life.
He’d taken his first kill.
The system notification appeared with the same cheerful efficiency it used for everything else, as if snuffing out a human life was just another achievement to track.
Aria’s anime would just accept it… 120 experience points. Congratulations. You’re now 120 points closer to becoming powerful enough to—to kill the Demon King…
His stomach heaved. He barely managed to turn his head before vomiting onto the stone, bile burning his throat. The thorns receded from his arms, leaving bloody pinpricks where they’d emerged. His hands shook.
Through their bond, Copper pressed against him, offering warmth and simple acceptance. Pack survives. Alpha strong.
Yeah, Damon thought, wiping his mouth with a trembling hand. Strong. That’s what this is… It’s what I need to be.
He looked at the remaining assassins, still paralyzed, still watching with terrified eyes as he caught his breath. He went to the second. The barb slipped in easier this time.
Three more. Then we’re done. Then I can fall apart. Just…two more.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, meaning it, hating that he meant it.
Then he moved to the next body, because in this world, mercy was a luxury he couldn’t afford.
No need to be confused, he reassured. This is…easier than it should be. They tried to kill me…and rob my sister of her stability. I can’t forgive that… They’d just try again.
However, just as he reached the third, eyes just as pleading as the last, Vera appeared over him. She knelt beside the fearful man with fluid grace, pulling back a sleeve to reveal a spider tattoo—eight legs spread across the inner forearm that made Damon’s wrist burn.
“Each was Level 10. A city bandit party that brands itself as Adventurers as cover. You’ll only receive 15% of the total EXP you should have, as there is a nine-level difference. Yet, with your three-hundred-percent buff, you should have received around six hundred experience.”
Her gaze flicked up to meet his as he made the same incision through the chest.
“Well done surviving… It was more troublesome dealing with the real threat on the roofs. The Assassin’s Guild hit was the last of the background threats that I’ve been tracking and dispatching. Your mother feared this part but believed you would be able to handle yourself. She was correct.”
[You have slain Harvey Larix - Level 10]
[Experience Gained: 120]
She offered him a blue potion from within her robes. “The dizziness is your critically low mana. I know you feel empty inside, maybe even want to throw up, but drinking this will make you feel better. Let Copper handle the others. You’ve done your part.”
Damon examined it for a moment before looking up at the battleworn face of a powerful woman beside his uncle, one who appeared to do much of the dirtier work. He accepted it, feeling cold while fumbling with the lid. Once off, he managed to nod at his concerned cub, hovering at their side atop the dead man’s lap.
“So…how many assassins were after me? What about the bodies—the guards?” he mumbled, downing the contents. It felt like soothing ice, dropping into his core and spreading out to ease the fire he hadn’t thought was there. “…Who sent them?”
Vera’s face took on an apathetic cadence. “Who? It doesn’t matter. They won’t be sending anymore because they think they’re clashing with someone just as dangerous as them.”
“You?”
The woman’s smile became tight. “Oh, no. Not me. They will think this was Lady Ashcroft’s work.”
Damon forced a smile and sat back, watching dully as Copper made quick work of the others. He tried not to look at the cub’s blood-stained muzzle. Tried not to think about how easily the bear had ripped out that first throat. How simple it had been.
Don’t think about it. Focus on something. On Vera. Anything else.
“I…have had the worst day.” His voice sounded hollow even to his own ears. “I’m barely holding it together, and I haven’t even met up with Aria or entered the monster pits. But…I can’t afford to break down.
“This is a lot for an Earth boy, though… Damn, it’s a lot,” he muttered, staring at his bloody palm as the thorns flashed and vanished, leaving wet blood to fall to the stone.
The blood was still warm.
“Life isn’t fair. Yet, you choose how to respond to its games,” Vera whispered, wiping a finger across her cut cheek to stare at the blood. “Humph, poison, but not bad enough to affect me until the antidote arrives…”
Damon shook his head, unable to believe how calm the woman was after committing mass murder with him. Not that these assassins weren’t about to do the same. It just felt…wrong. But that was the price of life sometimes.
“But why do you think the guild hired these men to confront you?” Vera pressed, vision flicking upward.
“Hmm? Oh, you tell me. High nobles? The underground? I gather it would take a lot of money to compel someone from the Assassin’s Guild. Gah. I should be thinking about that, shouldn’t I? Why do novels and movies make this look so…easy?”
Vera smirked. “I don’t have the vaguest idea what movies are, yet books often skip the finer details, not to get bogged down in the grittier details, such as ethical dilemmas.”
[Experience Gained: 120]
The notification made a screw drill into his gut as he glanced at his bear, eliminating the remaining two assassins.
“You saw those tattoos?”
“Mhm?”
“Well, see, that’s the problem,” she muttered, looking up at the darkening sky as Copper went to the last member, licking his teeth. “They’re a Lawful-Evil organization that grooms thugs into becoming cults of you-know-who to be the scapegoat and draw out any protection.”
Damon shivered, looking down to see the hair bristling on his arm. “…Can’t say they aren’t intelligent for that. There’s still so much I don’t know about this world.”
The woman’s gaze lingered on the heavens for a moment before muttering, “You will get the hang of it soon enough after this… This is typically the hardest part. Now, you need to consider the future. The Assassin’s Guild is very meticulous, and the kind of work they do doesn’t come cheap. I half-wonder if Ashcroft hired them, but we will find out soon enough.”
Damon leaned back, trying not to think about the smell in front of him, blood still pooling onto the stone. His brow creased as the shadows seemed to move around them, and the bodies began to sink into the street. Which…wasn’t terrifying at all.
“You’re trying to tempt a civil war between them by making it look like she killed their man?” His voice came out steadier than he felt.
Good. Keep talking. Keep focusing on the politics instead of the blood drying on your hands.
“That’s bold.”
…
[Experience Gained: 120]
…
[Level 2 Achieved]
[3 Feat Points Gained; 12 Available]
[3 Stat Points Gained; 3 Available]
…
[900 EXP to Level 3]
…
[Copper has achieved Level 2]
[3 Feat Points Gained; 3 Available]
[3 Stat Points Gained; 3 Available]
…
That three would become six when his [Double Feat Points] was passed to him.
She straightened, studying him with those too-knowing eyes that now made perfect sense. A Rogue. High-level. Probably much higher, but not close to Stephen or Merana’s level.
She moved toward Copper, producing a red vial.
“You fought well for your first real combat. Defensive. Smart. Creative use of [Thorns]—Aria’s [Time Magic] was a pleasant surprise that saved you more than you probably realize.” A pause as she knelt beside the cub. “But you weren’t reading Copper properly.”
“What do you mean?”
“[Predator’s Sense].” She poured healing potion over Copper’s ribs—crimson liquid glowing as it sank into fur. “He was jumpy since you left the underground because he was detecting murderous intent. These five have been shadowing you since your exit. If you’d paid attention to his warnings, you could have avoided the ambush entirely.”
“I…figured as much,” he groaned, rubbing his stiff neck, but it was his aching fangs that were really starting to bug him. The cub’s labored breathing eased. Through their bond, Damon felt pain receding. “Thank you…for saving me. I feel so helpless…”
“Mmm. It is your first day, Damon,” Vera mused, cracking her neck and looking at things Damon couldn’t see. “You are stepping into an already active world. The Assassins Guild here is powerful. Connected to many cities.”
Her smile was genuine this time, though her eyes remained sharp—always tracking, always assessing. The eyes of someone who never truly relaxed.
“You’re living up to your mother’s expectations, no matter how small or weak you feel. You survived against five people ten times your level.”
“Easy to say when you’re Level 1,” Damon muttered with a forced grin as Copper trotted over, tail wagging like he’d just done a fun trick instead of executing helpless men.
“Yeah, bud, you saved my ass out there… I think we have a lot of combinations to figure out between our Feat sharing… How is my mother?” he suddenly asked, feeling his nose burn while thinking about their brief visit that morning. “Is she okay?”
“Oh, I would not be concerned about your mother. She may even be stronger than I am, if she’s feeling cornered.” Vera chortled, pointing up. “That said, you should be aware that the one I killed above was Level 30, which is why you see me in this state, but I’m lucky that I’m not alone. Isn’t that right, Yelissa?”
A second cloaked woman emerged from different shadows—she’d been there the whole time, too, Damon was sure. The woman handed Vera a sizable bag with the long-suffering air of someone who’d done this exact thing too many times.
“You are reckless, Mistress, always moving on your own without backup. It is why you will have trouble sitting for the next—”
“Yelissa…” Vera cut in with a strained smile.
The young woman sighed the sigh of working for a troublesome boss. “Of course. Here are the healing, mana, and antidote potions.”
Stop. Watch them, he internally growled. Focus on them.
“How badly did you get hurt?” he heard himself say, watching Vera wince as Yelissa moved closer to check her condition.
“Worse than needed, but she’ll manage,” Yelissa said flatly, moving to Damon’s back without asking permission and pouring liquid down his scorched flesh. The sensation was immediate—cooling, soothing, the pain receding like a tide. “She got cocky. Mistress thinks she’s invincible.”
“I am very vincible, thank you,” Vera retorted, but there was warmth in her voice. “I just have excellent reflexes.”
“Oh? You have a hole in your cheek from a poisoned blade.”
“And my opponent happened to have excellent reflexes, as well. And it is a very small hole,” she huffed.
Damon felt his lips twitch despite everything. The absurdity of it—the casual banter over injuries sustained during assassination attempts. Like they were discussing a particularly rough sparring session instead of life-or-death combat.
This is insane. They’re insane. I’m insane for finding this comforting… But this needs to become my new norm.
Yelissa’s deadpan exasperation versus Vera’s cavalier attitude. It was human in a way that made the last ten minutes feel less like a nightmare.
The Rogue took the bag and moved to treat his other wounds properly, and Damon accepted the next blue potion. He fumbled with it, hands still not quite steady.
It took three attempts to drink it down due to his shaking hands, feeling the warm, wet sensation on them.
Vera’s expression shifted. “The first time is always the hardest,” she said quietly, and suddenly the banter was gone, replaced by something raw and honest. “The second time, you’ll think it’s easier, and that will terrify you more than the first. But the truth is…”
She trailed off, and Yelissa finished for her, voice surprisingly gentle. “The truth is, it should be hard. Every time. The day it becomes easy is the day you’ve lost something important…but there will be a day that comes, like it or not.”
Damon stared at them both—these two women who killed for his family, who’d probably killed dozens or hundreds of people, who were standing here covered in blood and poison and telling him it was okay to feel broken about it.
“I think I’m going to throw up again,” he admitted.
“That’s normal,” Vera said. “Do you need a minute, or—”
“No.” The word came out too fast. “No, I need… I need to keep moving. If I stop, I’ll—”
“…Mmm. I understand,” Vera said, and pulled him back into the logistics of the situation. “The Guild has already made arrangements to isolate this area for the assassination—that cat you saw earlier is a part of that effort—which makes our work easier.”
“Assassin cats. Of course. Why not?”
“Is that shocking to you? Interesting. Yelissa, begin the cleanup while I talk with our young prince. There are some…concerning things we must discuss about a certain glamorous sun elf.”
Yelissa’s vision dulled, mumbling under her breath as she moved to work, “Lazy ass, privileged…”
“What was that?” Vera chirped, and Damon caught the slight smile—an old dynamic playing out.
“Nothing… Right away, Mistress.”
The absurdity of this uneven dance made him want to laugh. Or cry. He wasn’t sure which.
As Yelissa faded into obscurity and the traces of battle vanished one by one, Damon rubbed Copper’s warm ears, grounding himself in the physical contact.
Yup, he mumbled to Copper, I think this seals it… I’m now a part of this world.
The cub’s tail wagged, oblivious to the weight of the thought.
“You okay?” Vera asked quietly.
“No,” Damon said honestly. “But I will be. I have to be. And concerning things about a sun elf?” he asked, looking up at Vera. His voice sounded almost normal now. Almost. “What about Aria?”
Vera’s expression was unreadable. “We’ll talk on the move. Use this towel to clean yourself up, and change into this. It should fit, roughly. You need to get back to The Silver Chalice before your sister is whisked off to the ball.”
“The what?” He mumbled, watching her produce a clean shirt, and Damon looked down at his current one—torn, scorched, blood-spattered. Evidence. “Aria’s going to a ball?”
He pulled off the blood-soaked shirt with trembling fingers, trying not to look at the dark stains. Tried not to think about whose blood was whose. Tried not to remember the warm, wet feeling of it as he pressed his weight down.
“What has my little evil sister done now?” he asked, forcing lightness into his voice as he pulled on the clean shirt.
Vera studied him for one more long moment, then nodded. “That’s something she will need to tell you. Come on, then. We have a lot of other things to discuss.”
As they left the courtyard—shadows consuming the last evidence behind them—Damon kept his eyes forward and his thoughts carefully, desperately blank.
[Indomitable Will] did the heavy lifting, but even it couldn’t quite silence the part of him that knew he’d never be the same.
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[ Next POV: Aria (Our Otomi-Loving Evil Sister!) ]
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