The Damned Demon - Chapter 812

Chapter 812 Became The Very Thing You Hated

The dry winds of Zalthor's wastelands howled across the desolate desert, swirling dust and sand around them as Rebecca, still shaking from the Gaze of Agony, somehow forced herself to stand.

Her legs felt like lead, her breath ragged, yet she refused to collapse. Not in front of him. Not in front of the man she once saw as nothing but a discarded shell, a plaything for her son's frustrations.

And now?

Now he was the one looking at her like this.

Like she was something fragile. Something pitiful.

Her chilling red eyes flared with anger, even as a deep, unspoken pain curled in the pit of her stomach.

"Don't look at me like that..." Her voice came through gritted teeth, her fists clenching at her sides. "As if I am some sort of pitiful creature. I endured everything and came this far so that I could be the one to give people such looks. Not the other way around."

Asher tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. But his piercing gaze cut into her like a blade, heavy and knowing.

Then, his voice came, calm and sharp, slicing through the tense air.

"Then tell me, Rebecca—has it made you happy?"

Rebecca stiffened, her lips pressing together into a thin line.

But Asher wasn't done.

He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his eyes locking onto hers.

"Becoming the one who gives those looks? Like the way you looked at me during those years as your son tortured my helpless self?"

His words struck like a fist to the gut.

"You became the very thing you despised."

Her breath hitched.

She gritted her teeth, swallowing the lump in her throat.

But still—she forced herself to glare at him, to keep her voice steady.

"Maybe I did become the thing I hated." Her hands trembled, but she balled them into fists. "But it kept me alive. And I sure as hell wasn't going to die a victim, especially at the hands of my House."

A bitter scoff left her lips, her tone dripping with resentment.

"I proved to them I don't need them or anyone to become stronger than they could imagine without following their stupid ways."

Asher studied her for a long moment before narrowing his eyes slightly.

Then, he spoke again.

"Is that why you desperately wanted a son of your own?"

Rebecca froze.

A faint tremor ran down her spine, but Asher continued, his voice steady, unyielding.

"Someone who would love you for who you are, and not look at you the way your family did?"

Rebecca's eyes flickered with something unreadable.

Asher's voice dipped lower, his tone laced with a knowing finality.

"Because he came from you alone, he is almost like your twin. You two resemble each other so much that you were confident he would be able to connect with you the most. Maybe that is another reason why you never wanted to use a man to birth a child."

She let out a sharp scoff—but her breath hitched halfway through.

A crack. A slight crack in the mask she had worn for years.

"Tch. So what if you're right?" Her voice wasn't as sharp anymore, "It doesn't change anything."

Her arms crossed tightly against her chest, as if shielding herself.

"I made sure he'd never have to go through what I did. That's why I..." She swallowed hard.

And then—

She admitted it.

"That's why I let him torture you."

The desert wind seemed to howl louder, as if reacting to her words.

Her lips trembled.

And then—

She broke.

"Wait! Y-You promised you will let me follow you after this!"

Her voice cut through the wind, almost desperate, though she reeled it in at the last second.

"I still have to make sure you won't slack off!"

Asher stopped.

Just briefly.

Then—

"I never promised you anything." His voice was calm, indifferent. "But I also didn't tell you not to follow me. But if you do...I won't let you leave until I feel like it."

And then he kept walking.

Rebecca blinked.

And then—a tiny exhale slipped past her lips.

It wasn't much.

But it was enough.

Her feet moved before she could stop them.

She took a deep breath—

And followed.

Asher felt her presence trailing after him, but he didn't stop her.

He knew he should.

He knew he should have shut her down completely, left her behind in the desert where she could fend for herself.

She was dangerous. A woman like Rebecca could never be fully trusted.

And yet...

For some reason, he allowed it.

His fingers twitched slightly, his mind running through every possibility, every reason why he hadn't cut her off completely.

Was it just that she could still prove useful?

That was the most logical explanation.

He couldn't deny that she was powerful, cunning, and resourceful. She had endured years of pain and suffering, and yet she still stood tall, her willpower unshaken.

Even though he wasn't trying to kill her, she was willing and still endured his Gaze of Agony—a feat that would have left most minds shattered beyond repair.

She was strong. And he needed strong people, especially for what was to come.

Or...

Had he been moved by something else?

By the way she had exposed her vulnerability and sincerity to him, if only for moments?

Why was he feeling bad for what happened to her?

No.

That thought irritated him. He wasn't the type to sympathize with someone like her.

He had no reason to.

And yet, here she was, walking behind him, still refusing to leave his side.

He let out a silent exhale, shaking his head slightly.

Maybe keeping her close was the best way to ensure she wouldn't stab him in the back.

Or maybe—

He was just waiting for the right moment to see what she was truly after.

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