My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Sylvia’s dirt- and soot-covered face bore the streaks of dried tears, but her eyes remained sharp, unwavering. Her broken arm had mostly healed, as had the others’ wounds, but the cost of that healing left her drained. Even so, exhaustion wasn’t what kept her standing. It was grief, frustration, and rage.

She was furious that Damon had stayed behind to hold off a war troll while they retreated. The mere thought of it made her blood boil. But she had no choice but to trust him. He had told her to have faith. So she would.

Behind her, the only path forward was a narrow, rickety rope bridge swaying over a deep chasm. Below, there was nothing but darkness, an abyss stretching down the mountain’s side. The wind howled through the ravine, rattling the fragile ropes. Crossing was risky—but cutting it off would trap Damon on the other side? That was unthinkable.

Sylvia clutched her bow tightly, standing firm. She would wait. No matter the odds.

A deep, guttural roar echoed in the distance. The war troll was approaching.

The others prepared themselves for battle. Leona clenched her fists at her sides, her entire body trembling—not with fear, but with barely restrained fury. The killing intent radiating off her was thick enough to choke the air itself. She wasn’t just ready to fight; she was ready to kill.

Evangeline took her place at the front, assuming leadership in Damon’s absence. Normally, Sylvia handled that role, her vast knowledge and ability to provide support fire making her an ideal battlefield commander. But for now, she remained at the back, her sharp eyes scanning the terrain.

The war troll emerged from the darkness, its massive form illuminated by the pale moonlight. It exhaled heavily, mist rising from its nostrils. There were no trees in the barren mountain pass—only scattered boulders and the cold, open night.

Sylvia bit her lip, her expression like that of a vengeful widow. She didn’t see the other war troll. She didn’t see Damon. He must still be fighting.

The troll stepped forward, gripping its crude club in both hands. Its voice was slow, guttural.

“Me think you goddess-race run across bridge… cut rope.”

Sylvia’s eyes darkened. That wasn’t an option. They would not abandon Damon.

She closed her eyes, and in that brief moment, a vision surged into her mind—a forest in flames, an inferno swallowing the trees. She felt the heat on her skin, saw the black smoke billowing toward the heavens. She saw it all in the pages of a book.

When she opened her eyes, all hesitation was gone. Only cold, murderous resolve remained.

Raising her bow, she drew an arrow, her voice as steady as the steel tip aimed at the troll’s heart.

“I can see the future. You don’t live to see the sunrise.”

Sylvia’s bow pulsed with the full glow of her lunar magic, the energy coalescing into a spiraling arrow of radiant light. With a sharp twang, she loosed it, the streak of white slicing through the night like a falling star.

The war troll didn’t even react.

The arrow struck its left side and detonated with a deafening crack. Flesh and bone ruptured as the explosion ripped through its torso, sending a rain of warm blood and shredded organs across the battlefield.

The creature gasped, staggering to its knees. The others watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide in disbelief.

Matlock exhaled, relief washing over him. “It’s dead…”

But the young fairy couldn’t have been more wrong.

The war troll groaned, its hulking frame shifting as it forced itself upright. A wet, sickening sound filled the air as it reached down, scooping up its own spilled entrails and shoving them back into its open gut. Muscles twitched, flesh mended—the gaping wound sealing itself as its body regenerated.

Its brown eyes locked onto them, dark and unyielding.

“Me no die easy…”

With a bellowing roar, it raised its massive club and charged straight for Sylvia.

Evangeline’s grip tightened around her rapier, her teeth grinding. She wouldn’t let it reach her.

With a battle cry, her sword ignited in radiant energy, her entire body glowing as she lunged forward. The troll snarled and lifted a hand to shield its eyes from her blinding light, but it didn’t stop. It closed the distance, ignoring the searing pain as her blade slashed into its thick hide, its flesh regenerating almost instantly.

It swung its club downward, aiming to crush her.

A thunderous boom shook the air as a bolt of lightning slammed into its side, followed by the sharp sting of steel piercing its ribs. The troll grunted, glancing down to see Leona at its flank, her greatsword buried deep in its gut. Her body crackled with raw electricity, her golden eyes burning with fury.

“Where’s my friend, you bastard?! How dare you hurt him?!”

Her emotions surged, and with them, so did her power. Lightning and wind spiraled around her, the air itself trembling under her rage.

The sky grew darker.

The troll snarled and swiped at her with a massive palm, sending her hurtling through the air. She slammed into a boulder with a painful crack, her sword still lodged in its torso.

It reached down, gripping the blade, but before it could rip it free, a hail of lunar arrows rained down from above, slamming into its head. Ice exploded across its shoulders as Matlock soared overhead, unleashing a freezing blast.

The troll growled, more annoyed than hurt, but before it could react, Xander slid beneath its legs.

Instead of stabbing, he infused gravity into his spear and slammed it down exactly on Leona’s greatsword pushing it further inside the trolls body.

Leona, groaning, forced herself to stand, dust and blood covering her frame. A slow, wicked grin spread across her lips.

“You’re not so scary, ugly troll…”

Electricity crackled from her palm, the charge growing, pulsing.

“My sword’s made of walkway steel. Great conductor.”

Evangeline’s eyes widened. She turned to the others.

“Take cover—Xander, barrier!”

The bolt surged from Leona’s palm, striking the troll square in the chest.

But she wasn’t finished.

They were in the mountains. The storm above had been gathering for awhile. And she was furious.

She didn’t have enough mana? Fine.

She’d call upon the storm itself.

Lifting her arm to the heavens, she let her fury fuel her power. The sky blackened, thunder rumbling deep in the clouds. The heavens answered her rage, a mighty pillar of lightning crashing down in a blinding flash.

The ground beneath her cracked.

Her skin seared.

Her body glowed red with the intensity of the raw energy flowing through her.

And then—she redirected it.

Her palm pointed at the hilt of the greatsword still lodged in the war troll’s gut.

The troll’s eyes widened in horror. Gone was its confidence.

“Oh… oooh oo—”

The world turned white.

A boom shattered the silence, the mountain trembling from the sheer force. The war troll’s screams mixed with Leona’s furious roar, their echoes swallowed by the storm.

As the light faded, Leona collapsed to her knees. Her vision blurred. Her body refused to move.

A ancient whisper echoed in her mind.

[Heart of Glass, Bringer of Storms… you are known to the storms.]

[You have awakened the unique class: Storm Bringer.]

Storm Bringer

“Your heart is pure, unfitting for one known to the storms…”

[Class Skill – Wrath]

Your strength surges with your emotions—let the world know you as thunder.

[Your fable begins.]

Her eyes fluttered shut. It was over.

But then—

A cough.

The thick smoke cleared, revealing a monstrous silhouette.

The war troll still stood.

Its club trembled in its grip, its body swaying, but its wounds were closing.

Leona’s lips parted, a single word barely forming.

Her vision darkened.

And then, everything went black.