My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

The towering pillars of black flames surged toward Evangeline. Damon lunged, shoving her aside as the searing inferno annihilated the walls behind them.

Sylvia’s face twisted into a grotesque grin, a hollow mockery of her usual gentle expression. She barely seemed to register the flames licking her own body, standing unscathed within the infernal blaze. But Damon knew—it wasn’t Sylvia. It was the dark spirit controlling her.

Those blackened, empty eyes locked onto him with cruel amusement.

“Ahhh, so you’re the Damon that’s always on her mind…” the spirit sneered, its voice an eerie blend of Sylvia’s soft tones and something far more sinister.

“My, my, my… You’re quite a cruel lad, aren’t you? Hurting the feelings of such a young and sheltered girl—when all she wanted was to understand the world. She was merely… curious about you.”

Damon’s jaw tightened. He already knew that. He didn’t need to be reminded. But knowing didn’t make it any easier. The spirit’s words slithered through his mind, taunting him, clawing at something raw inside his chest. He forced himself to focus, but even as Remorseless whispered logic into his thoughts, his emotions refused to be silenced.

The spirit—Rashi Ignath—smirked through Sylvia’s lips.

“So tell me, hero, have you come to play the gallant savior? Or have you come to lead your little party to their deaths?”

Damon’s grip tightened around his daggers.

“I’m here for Sylvia,” he said, voice low and steady. “And I’ll be taking her back. No matter what.”

Ignath’s gaze flicked over the others—Xander, Leona, Evangeline. A group of mere children, none of whom had even reached their first class advancement. Against it, they were nothing.

A dual-voiced shriek erupted from Sylvia’s throat, splitting the air with unnatural resonance.

Xander charged, spear in hand, a snarl on his lips.

“Aaghh!” He swung, gravity magic surging through the weapon, amplifying its weight. The blow should have been devastating—yet Ignath raised Sylvia’s delicate wrist, blocking it effortlessly. The spear barely left a scratch, only causing faint cracks to splinter along her arm.

“Is that all?” Ignath laughed.

Then, with a flick of Sylvia’s fingers, a maelstrom of dark flames erupted from her body, racing toward Xander with lethal intent.

His eyes widened in horror.

But before the flames could reach him, Damon’s omnidirectional wires shot out, embedding themselves in Xander’s shoulder. With a sharp pull, Damon yanked him free, tossing him toward the wall just as the fire scorched the space he had been standing in.

“Be careful,” Damon warned, landing in a crouch. “Her flames can’t be blocked—not with our meager power.”

Evangeline nodded quickly, steadying herself. “I’ll handle long-range combat and support!”

Leona stepped forward, gauntlets crackling with energy. She clenched her fists, summoning thick storm clouds overhead.

“[Storm Call.]”

The air crackled, and bolts of lightning snaked down, striking Sylvia’s body in a devastating cascade of electricity. The entire battlefield trembled as the raw power of the storm engulfed her.

Damon’s breath caught.

“Sylvia—!”

A scream ripped through the air. But then—

A hand shot out from the storm.

Delicate fingers wrapped around Damon’s throat.

“Hehehe… I caught you, little mouse.”

Sylvia’s—no, Ignath’s—grip was crushing. Damon reacted instantly, slashing his dagger across her arm, but she caught the blade effortlessly in her palm. Before she could immolate him with dark fire, Leona rushed in, driving her electrified fist into Sylvia’s ribs.

“Let him go, you wretch!”

The impact forced Ignath back, her grip loosening just enough for Leona to yank Damon free.

Damon hit the ground hard, coughing as he rolled to his feet. He barely had time to react before another surge of black fire erupted toward them. They dove apart, narrowly avoiding being reduced to ashes.

His skin stung—tiny cuts from debris, heat blistering against his arms. He looked toward Leona, who was practically radiating energy.

Wait—was she getting stronger mid-battle?

No… She had always been strong. It was just that her aura was growing, adapting as the fight went on.

She glanced at him, her expression firm. “Damon, don’t get carried away. I need you to be ruthless, not sentimental.”

He clicked his tongue, frustrated with himself. Of course, Remorseless had already calculated that Sylvia wasn’t actually in pain—but for that brief moment, the risk had been there. And that was enough for his emotions to momentarily override his skill.

No more hesitation.

Damon readjusted his grip on his daggers, his stance shifting.

Time to end this.

Damon pushed himself up, blood trickling down his arm. His breath was ragged, his body aching from burns and lacerations, but he forced himself to stand tall.

“Fine,” he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I said I’d do whatever it takes… and I will.”

His eyes swept over his team. They were battered but still standing. They had to end this.

“New plan—we take her from all sides. There’s only one of her and four of us.” His voice was sharp, commanding. “Attack together and retreat together.”

Sylvia—no, Ignath—sneered, the twisted grin stretching Sylvia’s delicate face into something monstrous.

“That’s your plan? Ridiculous…” The spirit’s voice dripped with disdain. “The red-haired one outside may not be faring well, but at least her tactics are mildly acceptable.”

Damon didn’t wait for more taunts. He dashed forward, his team following in perfect sync.

Evangeline was the first to act, conjuring a blinding flash of light that flooded the battlefield. The entire building was bathed in brilliance, forcing Ignath to flinch, Sylvia’s stolen body recoiling from the sudden radiance.

Sylvia’s palm lifted instinctively, shielding her eyes. It was the opening they needed.

Damon struck first, his dagger slicing through the air. Ignath barely managed to dodge, twisting Sylvia’s body unnaturally as flames coiled around her clenched fist. But before she could retaliate, Leona’s gauntlet came crashing in.

Ignath staggered back just in time to evade the strike—only for Xander’s spear to sweep her legs out from under her. Sylvia’s knees buckled. She was falling.

But she never hit the ground.

Some unnatural force kept her upright, her back refusing to touch the floor. Before she could recover, Evangeline’s fist slammed down onto her forehead, sending her crashing into the stone with a sickening crack.

Damon rolled back, catching his breath as he watched Sylvia’s possessed form tremble.

Then, for a brief second, something changed.

A strangled gasp escaped Sylvia’s lips. Her body convulsed, her face contorted in agony.

A dark, phantom-like apparition flickered over her features. Shadowy flames poured from her mouth, writhing and shrieking as if something inside was trying to escape.

Then—her eyes.

One of her dark irises flickered, shifting back to its usual soft gray.

Damon’s heart clenched.

“Sylvia—!”

He lunged forward, hand outstretched, reaching for the trump card he had been holding onto—

But the moment was lost.

Black flames erupted in a violent, circular explosion, consuming her once more. The sheer force of it sent Damon flying back. He shot out the omnidirectional wires in a desperate attempt to stabilize himself, but the shockwave crashed against him like a tidal wave of destruction.

His body hit the ground hard, his skin torn in several places. His uniform was scorched, patches of burnt fabric barely clinging to his frame. The acrid scent of seared flesh filled the air, the pain digging deep into his nerves.

He must have looked horrifying—a charred, bloodied mess.

Yet still, he chuckled.

Ignath straightened, Sylvia’s body shuddering as the spirit fully reclaimed control. Her eyes darkened once more, any trace of Sylvia buried beneath the entity possessing her.

Damon smirked despite the pain.

“You can’t use your true power, can you?” His voice was hoarse but laced with confidence.

“Even at the first class, that vessel isn’t fireproof. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be resorting to physical attacks against us.”

Ignath’s expression twisted into something murderous.

Damon pressed on, voice sharp as a blade.

“Your power is too tyrannical—and Sylvia isn’t at first class yet. You can’t use your flames freely, can you? Not unless you want to burn your precious vessel to ash.”

Ignath’s rage was palpable.

Damon was right. Unless the spirit fully assimilated Sylvia’s body—completely erasing her—he couldn’t unleash his full power without destroying her in the process.

The realization only made Ignath’s hatred burn hotter.

“You think that matters?” The spirit’s voice curled into something venomous. “The red-haired one outside will die soon enough. And when she does…”

Ignath’s lips twisted into a cruel smirk.

“My projection will come here and kill you.”

He raised his dagger.

“I just have to kill you before that happens.”