Chapter 85: The Names in the Cemeteries
Damian didn't want to read the names on the commemorative tombstones, many of which he recognized because some of them had studied with him.
"In the end, you died with honor, you idiot." Damian could make out the name of the boy who had bothered him in the early years. His tombstone mentioned that he died twenty years ago defending a village from demons.
All those grudges that Damian once held had faded over time. This need to move forward despite all the difficulties he had faced was a testament to the many battles he had won over time.
He had always wanted to escape the mage tower, unaware that many years had passed since then.
"All these people were warriors who bravely fought against the demons. They couldn't return from that battlefield, and what we are seeing here is merely commemorative." Damian approached the tombstone of his master, who had died long ago.
He taught him everything about puppets; he learned from the best, and that changed things in the north, where thousands of puppets hunted demons relentlessly.
Damian had not stopped building powerful puppets to keep his territory protected and expand his dominion to other frontiers abandoned by humans.
The great rulers had no problem with Damian expanding his territory; he had been fulfilling his supply deliveries as taxes, so the more he had, the more resources he would give to them.
"My master..." Damian felt nothing now. Knowing his master Dom, he would never have wanted him to cry or show feelings he never felt for him.
Frieren looked at Dom's tombstone, then at Damian for a moment, and asked, "Aren't you going to cry?"
"If I do, he'll probably appear as a ghost and smack me for crying over the death of this old man... He was tired; his dream was always to die on a battlefield, so he probably died in the south, where the demons attacked a long time ago."
"Was he a great master?"
"I don't know, but he taught me everything he knew and named me his best apprentice in life, something I never accepted, by the way." Dash walked toward the next tombstones and soon found some very familiar ones.
Those who had died for him on the battlefield, comrades-in-arms who had once despised him but ended up giving their lives for him to survive and win the war,.
It's a shame that Damian didn't want to go straight for the demon king; first, he needed to increase his power so much that in the future, he would be called the magical emperor of this continent.
He had been paving the way for a long time, not only accepting numerous disciples from different noble houses in the north but also teaching them magic, which is highly sought after everywhere now with the war.
At this point, if Damian could share his plans with his disciples, there would be no need for internal war because they would all accept him as the magical emperor.
But that dream was still far from being fulfilled, especially when his territory was just beginning to expand.
"I didn't expect to see you so young."
Frieren and Damian turned towards the voice's source, only to see a woman hidden in a black cloak, holding a magical staff in her right hand.
"Are you Syndra?"
"Don't you recognize my voice after being gone for so many years?" Syndra removed the hood from her cloak, revealing a perfect face, but Frieren knew this was not her true appearance.
"I didn't think you would still be alive."
"Don't try to show interest in me; you're here for other reasons, so get to the important point."
"Where is Adda?" Damian didn't beat around the bush about why he had come here.
"She's here; follow me."
Damian then followed her to where there was a grave with a small puppet he had made. "When did this happen?"
"About twenty years ago, maybe thirty."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
SrCuervo
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