My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 397 - 398: Just A Nickname

Three days had passed since Damon miraculously woke up from the dead.

During those three days, their base of operations had been under constant attack by monsters—each assault more refined, more cunning than the last.

Naturally, it became more difficult for them to defend themselves.

It was almost as if the enemy was studying them, adapting, exploiting their combat patterns, finding weaknesses in their party formations.

At least, Damon thought so. He hadnʼt actually fought. He was just made to rest—undergoing physical therapy while Evangeline and Sylvia insisted on examining his body for any lingering injuries.

That had been Sylviaʼs idea. Damon tried to argue, of course, but sheʼd pulled out a whole book filled with legitimate-looking medical records and fake healerʼs notes justifying why it was necessary.

ʼWhere did she even dig those up.ʼ

Evangeline simply played along. She didnʼt even want to argue.

Of course, Sylvia may have taken some liberties with him.

Or maybe he took liberties—it was a blur. Using her lap as a pillow definitely felt good.

What didnʼt feel good was having to constantly worry about ending up on the shit list of some powerful elven king.

Sylvia Moonveil, despite her obvious feelings for him, was a princess—and he was just a commoner.

Damon mightʼve been egotistical, but he was also pragmatic enough to know that playing into Sylviaʼs feelings wasnʼt a good idea. Not with his current power.

If he gave himself an inch, heʼd end up wanting a mile. Eventually, he wouldnʼt be able to hold himself back...

That was why heʼd drawn a line between them.

If he played dense long enough...

Ehrm... actually, nothing would come of it. Sylvia wasnʼt a weak-willed person. Eventually, sheʼd get what she wanted—no matter what.

He sighed, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

Teenage angst aside...

They were in real trouble. So Damon, as the party leader—and the guy who hadnʼt fought a single battle in the past three days since waking up—had finally decided.

They needed to leave. The teleportation gates werenʼt working, and the waypoints only led in circles around the cursed city.

It would be better to leave through the city gates.

He stretched his limbs. After sparring with Evangeline and Leona over the past few days, he was back to peak condition.

He could tell they were holding back—but that was fine. He wasnʼt looking for a serious fight, just a way to get his blood moving again.

What was weird, though, was Matia acting as his bodyguard.

ʼIʼm not helpless, guys. Come on…ʼ

Damon stepped out of the room, clad in the pale crown armor. In his hand, he carried Alazardʼs cursed sword—though now that he knew its name, he might as well call it Broken Bonds.

He closed his eyes, recalling its description.

ʼFlesh and soul… none shall I leave.ʼ

Tyrannical.

It only had one effect—but that was enough.

He walked through the halls. The scent of blood from outside clung to the air, following behind him, along with Matiaʼs silent footsteps. She trailed him, clad in her icy armor, ever the quiet sentinel.

ʼIʼd appreciate it if she made conversationʼ

He soon made it to the mansionʼs grand entrance. The entire place had been fortified with heavy wooden and metallic barricades. He could see runes, painstakingly carved, etched into them like a last desperate prayer.

In the center courtyard, the rest of the party waited.

Xander stood in front, holding his spear and a tower shield—Goddess knows where he found it. It was massive, inscribed with more runes and soaked with near-irremovable bloodstains. Clearly, that shield hadnʼt just blocked attacks—it had ended things.

ʼIʼd hate to be on the receiving end of that thing.ʼ

The others were all clad in armor. There wasnʼt much difference in their appearances, but their auras were sharper—far more refined than before. They mustʼve fought a hellish number of monsters during the thirty-one days heʼd been dead.

He felt left behind.

They were all close to their second class advancement.

No doubt about it.

ʼWhat a group of monsters…ʼ

If any of them punched an ordinary person, theyʼd probably pop like a blood balloon.

Evangeline stepped forward, her armor lined with golden inlays. She carried her sword in hand.

”Are you sure you donʼt need a few more days to rest? We arenʼt in a hurry…”

Damon smirked. Seeing her worried was strangely amusing—but they didnʼt have the luxury to wait. If they kept defending, theyʼd eventually be overwhelmed.

”Iʼm fine. And in fighting condition. Geez, stop acting like my mother...”

Evangeline bit her lip. She didnʼt argue like she usually would. She just sighed.

”If you say so...”

That subdued response caught him off guard.

She was worried.

He stepped up, gently lifting her chin.

”Eva, itʼs okay. I promise Iʼm fine. Trust me…”

Her golden eyes locked with his darker ones.

”Hmm.” She nodded quietly.

He glanced past her. Sylviaʼs eyes were on them, watching. Unmoving.

Damon looked around at the others.

”Ermm… okay, guys. Letʼs go.”

”Weʼre heading for the gate. Itʼs still a ways off, but weʼll be out of this cursed city soon enough.”

From inside his pouch, a familiar pair of lips floated out.

”Isnʼt that a bit rude to say about someoneʼs home…?”

Valarie landed on his shoulder. Damon sneered and took the first step into the ruined city.

The vile stench of blood struck his nose—but there were no corpses. His party, or maybe scavengers, had already cleaned them up.

ʼBummerʼ

The ground was soaked in blood so deeply he couldnʼt even see the pavement.

ʼWhat the hell had they been doing this past month…?ʼ

For this much blood to have dried, they mustʼve killed hundreds of horrors—again and again.

”Huh…”

Damon took a deep breath, the stench of rot filling his lungs. He stepped forward, leading the party into the ruined city.

At some point, Sylvia came to walk beside him. She kept stealing glances at him, as if she wanted to say something.

”What is it, Sylvia?”

She shook her head, her face cool and expressionless.

”Itʼs nothing.”

He sighed.

ʼSure doesnʼt look like nothing…ʼ

Glancing at her, he asked again.

”Tell me.”

She bit her lip.

”I just think youʼre being unfair.”

”How so?”

She twirled her hair around her fingers.

”You… call everyone by their names—but you gave Evangeline a nickname.”

Damon blinked.

Was she… jealous?

A small headache started to form.