My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

The Temple Inquisition.

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A force known to all.

And feared for good reason.

Most of the Inquisition were devoted followers of the Goddess of Doom—or, as they preferred to call themselves, Devotees of Doom.

And indeed, they had brought doom to many.

This branch of the Temple was responsible for heretical investigations and cleansing. They were numerous, like shadows lurking in every corner of the world. Their vast information network operated beyond national laws, bound only by the tenets of their faith.

For all intents and purposes, they were religious fanatics. Zealots who cared nothing for politics.

However—

They weren’t the only branch of the Temple.

The Temple was an organization, after all. And like any organization, it needed money and resources to function.

And that was precisely why the nobles in this room were terrified.

If the Temple got involved—

They would stand to lose everything.

Their wealth. Their land. Their reputation.

The Temple might even exploit the situation to seize control.

And worse—

This organization’s influence reached far beyond national borders.

Even those who resided on an entirely different continent could still be affected.

Refusal was not an option.

A nation could be excommunicated—cut off from the world.

And what did that mean?

Vuldren.

The Sky Continent in the Past.

It was a perfect example.

Once, it had rejected the Temple’s authority. The result?

The Temple and every other nation had been free to wage war against it—with or without cause.

Its people had been enslaved at will.

Trade had ceased entirely—no kingdom loyal to the Temple had been permitted to engage with them.

And worst of all—

They had been branded as enemies of the Goddess.

As heretics.

The Temple had not stopped until many parts Vuldren was reduced to ruins…. Although Vuldren persevered.

Damon was certain this was the real reason no one wanted the Temple anywhere near this investigation.

And that wasn’t all.

The Temple itself was corrupt—deeply so. Even the Inquisition was full of bad eggs. In fact, some would argue that all of them were.

The only difference?

These “bad eggs” were all fanatics.

Damon narrowed his eyes.

‘Perhaps this is why faith in the Unknown God is spreading so quickly…’

Especially in places like Vuldren, where freedom was valued above even faith.

The Unknown God was an entity unlike the Goddess. He did not demand worship. He did not care for faith.

He was… indifferent to worship only valuing the emotions of the individual.

Lady Margan, who had been one of the most vocal nobles earlier, had fallen silent.

Now, she too was visibly tense.

And no one could blame her.

Kael’s suggestion to involve the Temple had changed the entire atmosphere of the meeting.

Even the Academy’s leadership did not want the Temple involved.

That was why this meeting was being held in this secluded conference room—behind closed doors, with only a select few members of the Academy Senate present.

The Dean? Not here.

The Head of Departments? Not here.

The Headmaster? Absent.

In fact, Damon had learned from Lilith that they had all left the Academy recently.

As for why?

She hadn’t said.

And he hadn’t asked.

The tension in the room deepened.

Marabell Defontee observed the nobles’ reactions, nodding to herself. Good.

This was exactly what the Academy wanted—for the Temple to stay out of their affairs.

There was no need for those corrupt fanatics wearing the name of the Goddess to meddle here.

However—

An old woman like her wasn’t about to let these nobles think they had the upper hand.

She cleared her throat.

“Ahem… We originally summoned you all to inform you of the deaths of your wards. As you can see, while this is indeed a tragedy, deaths are not uncommon within the Aether Academy.”

Her tone was measured, controlled—giving them no room for argument.

“The entrance exam itself is a trial. It is not unheard of for students to perish during its course. However—once admitted, first-years are generally not at risk until the end-of-semester evaluation.”

She sighed dramatically, as though the burden of their grief weighed on her shoulders.

“This… however, is a greater tragedy. These deaths did not occur during training. That leaves us with a special case—one not recorded in their applications. Nevertheless—what has already happened… has happened.”

Her sharp gaze swept across the nobles, watching their anxious expressions.

Then—

She delivered the final blow.

“We will report this to the Imperial Knights… and the Temple Inquisition. We can contact… Aurelius Venn.”

The room froze.

Damon blinked.

That name…

He had heard it before—but barely knew anything about the man himself.

He nudged Lilith, whispering.

She leaned close, murmuring back,

“He’s a Dragonkin. A Head Inquisitor. Ruthless. Cold. Calculating. A man who believes that all he views as ‘unclean’ should be burned by divine fire…”

Damon paled.

Right.

He had heard of him.

Aurelius Venn—the Smoldering One.

Rumors claimed he had roasted an entire city in Solarion.

And she wants to call him?

His reaction did not go unnoticed.

And Marabell Defontee immediately seized the advantage.

“In addition,” she continued smoothly, “I happen to know Father Dantalion—the Witch-Hunter himself. We fought together in the Demon Wars of the past.”

The entire room shifted uncomfortably.

The nobles…

They all knew that name.

Damon clenched his fists.

Father Dantalion…

He was the kind of boogeyman noble children whispered about at night.

A relic of the old wars.

An Inquisitor who had personally hunted entire noble bloodlines for practicing forbidden arts.

A low, audible gulp came from Flick Fayjoy.

Cold sweat trickled down his forehead.

His son was the primary suspect in all this.

No—

With this evidence?

His son was already finished.

“I-I don’t think we need to involve the Inquisition in this matter…”

Lady Bonaire’s voice broke the silence.

She turned, her face pale, and glanced toward the representative of the Garnier House.

The woman gave a weak nod.

And she was not the only one reconsidering their position.

Lady Margan—the most vocal noble throughout this meeting—finally spoke up, turning to Marabell Defontee.

“Lady Defontee… should we really involve the Temple in something that can be handled… behind closed doors?”

Marabell did not react.

Her expression was impassive.

But Damon saw it.

She had played them.

She had made them forget that even she did not want the Temple involved.

And by making them act more desperate than her—

They had walked straight into her trap.

She gave them a final glance.

“Very well, then,” she said lightly. “I accept.”

A sigh of relief swept through the room—

Until she continued.

“However… before we proceed—”

Her sharp gaze returned.

“—we must sign an Oath of Silence. Everything that has transpired in this room will remain within this room.”

Damon exhaled.

She’s already won.

The nobles offered no objections.

Lady Margan bit her lip.

Her expression was strained.

And then—

“H-How do you suggest we get compensation… for our losses?”

Damon smirked.

Checkmate.