My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Once again, a bracelet was issued.

It felt cold against his wrist.

Damon raised his head, noticing that his shadow remained unnaturally still. No flickering movements, no playful distortions—it was as if it had frozen entirely.

Shaking off the uneasy feeling, he turned his focus back to his preparations.

He grabbed a bundle of arrows and shoved them into his quiver. The enchanted artifact absorbed them seamlessly, adjusting to hold even more. Methodically, he continued adding arrow after arrow, ensuring he had enough for what was to come.

Next, he reached for a few vials of healing potions—the academy had issued each student a limited supply. Carefully, he arranged them inside his lesser spatial bag, a magic artifact designed for long trips.

Inside, it already contained military rations, water, and other basic supplies. It could hold an impressive amount of gear yet barely added any weight.

Damon slung his bow over his shoulder. It was wide and crafted from a rare metallic alloy, sturdy yet flexible.

“Don’t you usually carry an extra bow?”

Damon stiffened.

He hadn’t heard anyone approach.

Turning swiftly, he found himself face-to-face with Sylvia.

The white-haired elven girl stood inches away, her usual composed expression carrying a trace of amusement.

Damon instinctively took a step back.

“Sylvia, why are you sneaking up on me?”

She only smiled at him, her sharp grey eyes gleaming.

“Sneaking? I was just checking up on you.”

Her tone was too casual. Too familiar.

She was acting strangely—far too comfortable around him since that night… since he had promised her the world.

“What’s up with you?” Damon asked, narrowing his eyes.

Sylvia tilted her head, her long hair swaying slightly.

“Nothing,” she murmured, her expression turning soft.

Then, almost hesitantly, she lowered her head as if she had just been betrayed.

“You’re not going to be mean to me after making all those promises, are you?”

Damon sighed.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reserved? Where’s this sudden boldness coming from?”

Her lips twitched ever so slightly.

Damon’s gaze sharpened.

“What are you hiding?”

Sylvia cut him off immediately.

“What type of monsters do you think we’ll encounter in this region?”

She motioned toward the other students, who were still sorting through their supplies.

“I mean… we’re all first-years. I assume the academy won’t throw anything too dangerous at us, right?”

Damon recognized the distraction tactic.

But he let it go.

“I’m not worried about the monsters,” he muttered, turning back to his supplies.

Sylvia blinked.

“You’re not?”

Damon shoved another ration pack into his bag.

“No. I’m more worried about nature.”

Sylvia’s ears twitched slightly.

“Nature?”

Damon glanced at the others—most of them were still obsessing over weapons, armor, and combat strategies.

“These idiots think the biggest threat is monsters,” he muttered, adjusting his bag straps. “But before monsters even get a chance to kill them—nature will.”

Sylvia nodded slowly, her sharp mind already piecing it together.

“That makes sense. Bugs. Contaminated water. Lack of food. Harsh weather conditions. Abnormal flora…”

Her voice trailed off.

“Most of us have spent our entire lives in luxury. This won’t be some novel adventure where we sit around a campfire after killing monsters.”

Damon smirked.

“Smart girl. I’d expect nothing less from the Bookworm Princess.”

Sylvia immediately pouted.

“Why do I feel like you keep coming up with mean nicknames for me?”

Damon shrugged, hoisting his bag over his shoulder.

“Right, I should apologize to the worms.”

Sylvia scowled.

But she still followed him.

For a moment, she glanced at his free hand.

And for just a second—she had the urge to hold it.

She quickly shook her head, banishing the thought.

“Erm… can you help me with my supply bag?” she asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know what I’ll actually need.”

Damon turned his head slightly.

“Sure. I’d love to—as long as you don’t mind me seeing your unmentionables.”

Sylvia’s face immediately turned beet red.

“N-Not that! I’ll arrange my bag myself! Just help me pick the supplies!”

Damon laughed.

Sylvia scowled even harder, realizing—

She had been played again.

Still smirking, Damon stretched out his hand.

Slowly.

Almost expectantly.

Sylvia hesitated.

Then, finally, she took it.

His fingers curled around hers—firm but gentle.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he murmured—

“I won’t ask you to tell me what you’re hiding… Tell me whenever you’re ready.”

Sylvia’s grip tightened ever so slightly.

She nodded.

As they approached her supplies, Evangeline and Leona were already there—struggling to pack their own bags.

Damon sighed.

It seemed he had more work to do.

Without hesitation, he began removing all the unnecessary junk from their supplies—lip gloss, perfumes, hair creams, and other useless luxuries.

Much to their horrified protests.

“You don’t need this. Or this. Or this.”

“Wait—what about my perfume?!”

“Gone.”

“Damon! My hair serum—!”

“Useless.”

By the time he was done, their bags only contained the essentials—food, potions, and survival gear.

Then, they moved on to Xander.

Unlike the others, he had already finished packing.

Well-prepared.

And ready to go.

Keal stood in front of the teleportation array, watching as other students had already set out in their respective parties. Damon and his group were near the back, waiting for their turn. The line moved slowly, and when they finally reached the front, Kael and a few professors stepped forward to inspect their packs, ensuring they had all the essentials for the evaluation.

Professor Chrome stood next to Alfred and Emeralda, observing the process. As Damon’s party approached, Emeralda waved them over.

“Hand over your pagers. You won’t be needing them for this trip,” she instructed, holding out her hand.

The group nodded, handing over their devices, which she placed in a secure box.

“You’ll get them back after your evaluation,” she assured them.

Professor Alfred then stepped forward, accompanied by a young fairy student that Damon recognized as Matlock. Alfred eyed their party before speaking.

“Your group is supposed to have seven members, but since you’re all considered strong among your peers, five should be enough. However, Matlock here doesn’t have a party. Hope you don’t mind taking him in.”

Chrome stroked his beard, nodding. “Hohoho… indeed. That would be the best choice. Besides, you get extra credit for taking him in.”

Damon narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t have to bribe us, professors. You wouldn’t accept a refusal even if we gave one… fine, we agree.”

Emeralda smiled. She half-expected Damon to refuse with some rude remark, but he had surprised her. Slapping his shoulder, she chuckled.

“My boy, you sure have changed… I think I like the new you.”

Damon sighed. “And I think you’re making me feel awkward.”

With a smirk, she ushered them toward the teleportation array. As they passed Kael, he stood motionless, his expression dark.

As Damon walked past him, Kael whispered, “Try not to die.”

Before he could react, Emeralda pushed them onto the array, and the magic activated. The space around them warped, and a barrier enclosed them. As the teleportation magic surged, Damon suddenly felt an intense buzz on his wrist. Looking down, he saw his bracelet glowing with an unnatural light.

The glow spread to the runes within the array, causing the ground to tremble beneath them. His body felt lighter, almost weightless. In the distance, he saw the professors’ faces pale in horror as they screamed something he couldn’t hear.

The runes flared violently, twisting like living veins of energy. A deafening hum rattled through his bones, and the air grew so thick it felt like wading through water

They rushed toward the array in a panic, trying to shut it down. Kael lunged toward the barrier with a cold expression, but before he could reach them, Damon felt space twist violently around them. The noise was deafening—he couldn’t even hear the shouts of his friends.

Then, in an instant, they were yanked into a massive spatial current. Damon gritted his teeth, trying to hold on—but it was too late. They were pulled into the unknown.