My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Xander was in great pain. His body ached, and he was bleeding. Time and time again, he used his body as a shield to block the massive hand of the war troll from crushing his friends. He had originally created a thin layer of gravity around himself, making his body denser to withstand the blows and avoid instant death. But that barrier was too thin—it shattered easily.

It was then that Xander came to a realization. When that barrier broke, and he was sent flying, he thought he would die. His life flashed before his eyes… but death never came.

Xander accepted a lot of things in that moment. Looking back now, he had changed.

He used to avoid commoners, thinking they were inferior… dishonorable. But nobles weren’t that great either. The so-called blue bloods were just as bad—some even worse. He had been surrounded by people who were utterly deplorable.

His thoughts wavered as the troll tossed him around like a rag doll. Yet his body didn’t break—it was changing. He caught a glimpse of Evangeline standing behind a boulder, her eyes distant, as if she too was experiencing an awakening of her own.

Xander was a noble. He had expectations to live up to, especially now. His older brother had returned from the demon wars as a shell of his former self, leaving Xander with an even greater burden.

“I have to be exceptional. I have to be an exemplary noble…”

The image of his father’s steadfast back appeared in his mind. His father would not run from a war troll. He would not lose to a commoner like Damon Grey.

Xander raised his spear with a roar, charging at the war troll. His blade slashed through the air as he dodged its massive fists, striking its belly with a powerful thrust. Sylvia followed in his wake, her blade glowing with a white radiance, her movements almost unnatural—like a woman possessed.

Matlock darted around the battlefield like a snowflake caught in the wind, graceful and untouchable. The troll roared in frustration, swiping at him as if shooing away an annoying fly, but the young fairy remained just out of reach.

Xander’s eyes snapped to Sylvia. The troll’s massive arm swung toward her blind spot—if that blow landed, she would die. Without thinking, he rushed forward, conjuring barriers of gravity magic. He braced himself between her and the club, the force of impact hitting him like a runaway carriage. The barriers shattered like fine glass, his magic crumbling in an instant. He gritted his teeth as blood trickled down his lips.

“I won’t lose… I will be strong… I will be unshakable… I will live by honor… I won’t lose…”

The force sent him skidding backward, but Sylvia used the opportunity. She rolled past the troll and slashed at its back, her blade cutting deep. The monster roared in agony as an ethereal glow surrounded her. Something was awakening within her. A spectral book began to take shape by her side, but Xander—already on his knees—barely noticed.

The war troll’s eyes locked onto him, ignoring the others. It had smacked him down again and again, yet he refused to die. His body was battered, bloodied, but he still stood.

With a guttural snarl, the troll advanced, each step shaking the earth. Xander tried to push himself up, but another devastating strike sent him crashing into the dirt. Blood sprayed from his wounds as the club struck him over and over.

The troll growled, frustrated. “Me see how much pain human can take…”

Xander’s vision blurred. His body was screaming, yet he forced himself to stand.

Matlock, hovering above, eyes wide with horror, unleashed a flurry of ice spells. Sylvia slashed at the troll’s body, stabbing and cutting it, yet it ignored them both, choosing to regenerate so it could finish Xander first.

Matlock turned desperately toward Evangeline. She stood off to the side, lost in a trance, her expression unreadable.

“Evangeline! Evangeline! What are you doing?! You have to help Xander!”

But she didn’t react. It was as if she existed in another world.

He turned to Sylvia instead. “Sylvia! Use your healing magic! Heal him!”

She didn’t respond. Instead, her eyes remained locked on the illusory book forming around her. A strange calm settled over her as she whispered,

“He will live to see the dawn…”

Matlock’s heart pounded. What did she mean? Was she refusing to heal Xander? Even as he stood there, bleeding out?

The troll roared in frustration, striking Xander again and again. Blood splattered the battlefield as Xander staggered. His cold, determined gaze locked onto the creature’s club. That was its weapon. He crossed his arms as another strike sent him sliding backward.

“I vow to stand until I take your weapon.”

As he uttered those words, something shifted. The club cracked as it struck him. Xander, bleeding and exhausted, gritted his teeth.

“I’m not Damon Grey. I can’t be sneaky or play tricks. I fight the way Xander Ravenscroft does—head-on. I stand until I break. It may seem pathetic to you… but this is who I am.”

The troll snarled, lifting its club for one final, crushing blow.

“Die! Die! Die!”

The club came down with all its might—only to shatter into countless splinters.

Xander remained standing. Blood dripped from his wounds, his breath ragged, but he had not fallen. A grin stretched across his face. “Heh… I won.”

The war troll’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Then, in the distance, an ancient voice echoed in Xander’s mind.

[You are surrounded by the glitter of false gold. Lies and deceit are everywhere. Beware.]

[You have awakened the unique class: Oathkeeper.]

[Class: Oathkeeper]

“Honor-bound and steadfast, yet surrounded by jackals and lies.”

Skill – [The Vow]

“Your will is as unyielding as your word—once committed, neither you nor your body will break.”

Xander collapsed to his knees. His body overflowed with newfound power, yet he had lost too much blood. Darkness threatened to pull him under.

Then, he saw her. Evangeline, her body shining with blinding light, fully awakened as she charged toward the war troll.

He smiled weakly. “I managed to buy her some time…heh..we’ll win.”

As the battle raged on, his vision darkened. A final whisper echoed in his ears.

[Your fable has begun.]