My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 838: Chapter 839: New Evil

Damon frowned. This was no fun. His brows pulled together slightly as irritation settled in his expression.

He had come here personally for blood and carnage. He wanted fresh meat something to work with for his practice on soul manipulation... or rather, wasn’t transmutation the better term now, considering he was actively rewriting what a soul was?

That thought lingered as his eyes shifted to his shoulders, where the raven and the squirrel were shamelessly clinging to him, feathers and fur brushing his armor as they loudly badmouthed one another.

Damon’s frown deepened.

”That’s enough, you two. I don’t have time for this...”

The raven ruffled its feathers sharply while the squirrel’s tail lashed once. They shot each other vicious glares before reluctantly pulling back, their bodies stiff with barely restrained hostility.

Then, with surprising newfound unity, they both turned toward the boss of the Black Crows kneeling on the floor.

Without a moment of hesitation, or even a flicker of remembrance for past kindness, they began to loudly badmouth him, calling for Damon to slay the dragon, or in this case, the local snake that had been corrupting the pond, killing the fish, starving the people, and openly committing crimes against humanity.

Damon sighed, a slow breath leaving him as irritation crept into his eyes. He glanced down at the Black Crow boss, his gaze heavy.

”Bakin... or as you call yourself now, Black Crow.”

He spoke the man’s real name, the one he had abandoned more than three hundred years ago.

The boss flinched.

His subordinates stood frozen, staring at their leader kneeling in front of a stranger. The boss himself was on the verge of pissing himself. Every instinct he had honed over centuries screamed at him that if he angered this man, he would die like a dog, or worse.

One of his lieutenants clenched his jaw and stepped forward, fists trembling.

”Get up, boss. We can take them... there are just two people.”

The room was bitterly cold. Frost crept along the stone walls and floor thanks to the snow and ice radiating from the woman knight. Even so, sweat beaded down the Black Crow’s head, dripping from his chin. His legs shook beneath him, barely able to hold his weight.

Damon seemed amused.

He turned his head slightly and glanced at the lieutenant, a soft smile forming at the corner of his mouth.

”You don’t seem to have much of a survival instinct,” Damon said calmly. ”If you did, I’d say it’s on the same level as a basic rock.”

The lieutenant sneered, rage twisting his face.

”Just because the boss is superstitious doesn’t mean the rest of us are!”

He charged.

His curved blade tore through the air as his third-class strength erupted, sonic booms detonating from his movements. The shockwave sent tables of food flying, dishes shattering as he crossed the distance almost instantly.

That was how it looked, from the eyes of a weakling.

To Damon, he was just... slow.

Too slow to matter.

Within that instant, Damon casually scratched the side of his head, briefly considering the most gruesome way to kill him. Then he smiled. As the blade descended, Damon reached out, timing it perfectly.

He didn’t even bother blocking.

His hand, cloaked in dense shadow energy, plunged straight through the man’s chest.

The lieutenant froze mid-strike. His body trembled violently, muscles locking as his eyes shook with pain and terror.

Damon’s cold eyes met his. He hadn’t moved a single step.

”Trying to modify a soul in a meaningful way is such a pain,” Damon said casually. ”But crushing one is quite interesting... you have a very weak soul.”

A faint gasp slipped from the man’s mouth.

Damon pulled his hand back.

There were no external injuries. The lieutenant collapsed onto his back, mouth slightly open, breathing steady.

He was alive.

But his eyes were empty.

His will and personality no longer existed.

All eyes turned back to Damon. Those still standing felt their legs weaken, knees trembling uncontrollably.

”Ahhh...” Damon groaned, lifting a hand to his head. ”I failed again... well, it’s not as bad as last time. I managed to only target his consciousness, but I could use more finesse.”

He looked around at those still holding their weapons.

”Anybody else want to be my test subject?”

Panic erupted.

Weapons clattered to the ground with loud clanks as men turned to flee, but the entire place was sealed in ice. Strange symbols glowed across the walls and floor, runes pulsing faintly as they formed a single word.

Close.

Of course. Runes Matia had added to her magic. No one was leaving.

The smartest choice had already been made.

The Black Crow remained kneeling, pressing his forehead closer to the floor. One by one, the others followed, dropping to their knees.

With everyone kneeling, Black Crow couldn’t help but feel a grim satisfaction. After all, they all had one thing in common.

”You are all cowards,” Damon said flatly. ”You didn’t dare go further into Yari. You chose to stay here and act like local tyrants under the rules of the Chainbearers.”

Damon slowly walked toward the chair Black Crow had been sitting on earlier, his boots crunching lightly against frost as he sighed.

All of them, the entire gang, or at least those high enough to matter were kneeling before him.

Ahhh, what a bummer. He really wished he had been this powerful before he left Valerion. He would have loved to wipe out the Charkata family back then.

No matter. All in due time.

”Do you wish to be more...” Damon asked as his formless charisma spread across the room, his voice carrying heat and fire.

”You have been beneath the Chainbearers for so long... did you all forget who you are? You are from a higher world. You are children of Aetherus and his brother Lazarak. You are from a world ruled by greater gods.”

He let the words sink in before continuing.

”So how is it that you now hide and bow to mere lower-realm scum?”

It was easy to divide people. Easy to manipulate them. Even easier to create hate.

A fast way to spread religion was through hate, that was why Aetherus was chosen and Lazarak wasn’t.

Hate and war were fuels.

Damon was going to give these people purpose again.

”Have this lower-realm scum already broken you? Have you disgraced your ancestors?” he demanded. ”If you have even the slightest bit of the spirit of those born in war, then you will join me.”

He tossed several branding seals across the floor, letting them slide to a stop before the kneeling figures.

”I offer you freedom...” Damon said coldly.

”Or death.”

Black Crow felt fire ignite in his heart, but more than that, he wasn’t stupid.

He lowered his head even further.

And chose freedom under this new evil.