The voice behind him was deep and dreadful, carrying a faint echo that rolled through the mountains. Yet beneath that ominous tone was a hint of exasperation.
"Ric, do not touch that. It's a poisonous monster vine."
That warning did nothing to stop the little boy with brown hair from stepping forward and poking the creature with the tip of his sword.
As expected, the vine suddenly lashed out, its thorn-covered tendrils shooting toward him.
Before it could even come close, black flames erupted from the shadows and reduced it to ash.
Ric turned around to look at the figure behind him.
A faceless entity stood there, his features concealed beneath a shifting veil of darkness.
The boy sighed and shook his head.
"Master, you really shouldn't stress yourself. It's not good for people your age. You'll get wrinkles."
Damon rolled his eyes.
As if he were old.
His lifespan stretched into the thousands of years, and he was not even properly thirty yet.
He was still young.
