But to Damien, who now stood in this world as something far more than just a player, that memory sparked something else entirely.

He scoffed under his breath, his lips curling into a thin, cold smirk.

'Not now though…' he thought sharply. 'My mom and aunt are mine alone! There's no way I'll give that foolish hero a chance to take them away.'

The moment of reflection ended as his attention snapped back to the battlefield.

The man lying before him was still alive—but barely. The beast's massive jaws were descending toward him, rows of metallic teeth glinting in the firelight.

The man's eyes were wide, filled with despair and pain, his mouth trembling as he weakly tried to crawl backward through the dirt.

To Damien, everything unfolded in slow motion thanks to his high agility.

The dying man's heartbeat was sluggish but loud to his ears, echoing like a drumbeat counting down to silence.

'Perhaps this is actually for the best,' Damien thought, a strange glint flashing across his eyes.

Not the man's death—but the event itself. This battle… this attack… it wasn't supposed to happen now, but if it did, it could mean a huge opportunity for him!

His expression hardened, the flames in his eyes matching the ones that suddenly surged along his blade.

With a silent command, his sword roared to life again, wrapped in waves of searing red heat. The air shimmered around it, the metal glowing brighter until the edges looked molten.

The ground beneath his feet cracked as he kicked off, and his body became a blur.

The distance between him and the beast vanished in an instant—a mere heartbeat's worth of movement.

His foot landed lightly, his body twisting with lethal precision as his arm drew the sword backward.

The beast's head snapped toward him, the glowing yellow eyes widening in alarm. But it was far too late.

Damien's blade sliced forward in a single clean motion.

The tip of the flaming sword pierced through the monster's neck, sinking deep through flesh and bone.

The heat was so intense that the wound instantly cauterized, steam bursting from the gash as the smell of burning fur filled the air.

The creature convulsed, its massive body jerking violently as its metallic jaws snapped shut with a final, empty click.

For a split second, those glowing eyes flickered—then dimmed. The light vanished entirely, leaving nothing but the dull, lifeless reflection of flame in its glassy orbs.

Damien held his stance, letting the blade slide free with a faint hiss.

The wolf's heavy body collapsed into the dirt with a dull thud, its head half-severed, a thin trail of smoke curling from the cauterized wound.

He didn't look away. He simply stood there, sword in hand, flames still burning faintly along the edge, eyes locked on the fallen beast as if daring the rest of them to come forward next.

The man who had been lying in the dirt moments ago — pale, bloodied, and staring death in the face — shivered violently as the monstrous wolf's corpse fell beside him.

His chest heaved up and down in rapid, shallow breaths, and for a long moment, his mind couldn't even comprehend what had just happened.

He turned his trembling head slowly, his eyes meeting Damien's figure standing in front of him, sword still glowing faintly with red heat.

Relief and fear mingled in his expression, his lips quivering uncontrollably.

The man swallowed hard, the lump in his throat refusing to go down.

Then, in a weak, broken voice that barely rose above the crackling of distant flames, he muttered, "Th… thank you…"

His words came out shaky, almost like a gasp — gratitude and dread mixed into one desperate sound.

But Damien didn't answer.

He simply stared at the man with cold, detached eyes — eyes that didn't hold warmth, nor pity, nor even satisfaction.

That emotionless gaze sliced deeper than any blade. The villager's trembling only worsened, his lips clamping shut immediately.

Damien finally broke eye contact. He didn't waste a second longer on him.

Without a word, he turned away, his body vanishing in a flash as he dashed toward another scream nearby — another villager about to meet his end.

His feet hit the dirt softly, his movement almost ghostlike despite the chaos erupting around him.

'I should leave these idiots to suffer and die,' he thought bitterly, his expression twisting for a brief instant as he ran.

The memories of scorn, of harsh words thrown at his family — at Claire and Nora — flickered through his mind like flashes of lightning.

The hypocrisy of their panic now, the desperation on the faces of those who once spat insults in his direction, made his teeth grind.

'After all they've done to my family… after everything they said and did to make their lives miserable…' His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, veins faintly pulsing against his skin.

A low growl escaped through his clenched teeth.

'But then… I can't sit still during this event.'

He knew what this was. He knew the scale of it. And he knew what would happen if he didn't act now.

With a fluid motion, he spun around as another metal jaw wolf lunged at a screaming boy near the corner of a burning hut.

His arm blurred, and the flaming sword drove straight through the creature's skull.

The smell of molten flesh filled the air as the wolf's metallic jaws twitched once before going limp, its massive frame crashing down beside its intended prey.

The boy screamed, flinching backward, his clothes covered in ash and blood. Damien didn't look at him — his focus had already shifted.

Another roar cut through the noise — this one deeper, heavier, almost vibrating through the ground beneath him. The sound alone made some of the villagers freeze mid-run.

A massive shadow emerged from between two broken huts.

It was a bear — a monstrous black beast easily twice Damien's height, its fur thick like armor, and its eyes gleaming with primal fury.

Its claws looked like curved daggers, and the earth cracked slightly beneath its weight with every heavy step.

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