"Welcome, Death Necromancer."
Damien froze.
His eyes widened slightly, just for a breath. His hand, still faintly glowing with the last traces of death energy, dropped to his side. He hadn't said anything. Hadn't announced himself. And yet...
He sensed it.
"Whoever or whatever is watching... knows what I am."
But only partially.
Not the Sovereign, just the necromancer.
Damien let out a silent breath. His mind, always racing, pushed through a dozen scenarios in a heartbeat. If the voice knew he was the Sovereign of Death, this would not be a welcome.
He would have been erased. Or caged. Or devoured.
But it had said "necromancer."
And that meant whoever was watching didn't know the full truth.
That realization filled him with quiet relief and a rising tension.
"My identity as the Sovereign of Death must not be divulged until I am strong enough to defend myself against them." Damien decided firmly in his heart.
