My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Contemplating the existence of gods and the secrets of the divine seemed to reinvigorate him. His heart hadn’t stopped pounding since he learned that the gods were once mortals, carrying emotions and feelings much like humans.

‘The gods are imperfect…’

He thought about it but didn’t dare to mutter the words aloud. This was madness. How could the gods not be perfect? They were gods.

As he wrestled with these thoughts, his narrowed eyes drifted to the unconscious Matlock, who stirred slightly in her sleep.

Yes, her.

Matlock was a girl, so continuing to think of her as male felt redundant. If anything, he was more curious as to why she was dressed as a boy. Frankly speaking, he wanted answers.

It was a good thing the odds were still in his favor—she remained unconscious.

Then, Matlock’s eyes fluttered open.

Her body ached, her head felt unbearably heavy, but her eyes snapped wide as she took in her surroundings. Black hair drifted in the wind as she shook her head, looking from side to side as if expecting to be attacked.

The only thing she heard was Damon’s cold voice.

“Welcome back to the waking world, sleepyhead.”

Matlock raised her head, finding a boy perched on a large boulder, a giant axe resting against his shoulder. The sun loomed behind him, casting long shadows over them all. She squinted, trying to resist the light. That was when she noticed the dried blood on his torn combat uniform.

His expression was calm.

“You didn’t die. Good for you…” Damon said, tilting his head slightly. “I was pretty sure you wouldn’t last long… Matlock.”

Matlock bit her lip. She had been the weakest among them. The fact that she was still alive was nothing short of a miracle.

Damon’s sharp gaze settled on her.

“You’re an interesting girl… or are you just a weird crossdresser?”

Matlock’s eyes widened. Her gaze immediately dropped to her ripped combat uniform. The badges underneath were now exposed.

Her expression hardened.

“Yo… you know…?”

Damon studied her for a moment, his face unreadable. Matlock was beautiful and delicate too delicate.

“You made it obvious. Fairies are usually good-looking, but I know a few ugly ones.”

He couldn’t help but think of the old fairy, Makia—the one he had killed and devoured. That old bastard had been quite ugly for a fairy.

Matlock bit her lip again, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Now that you know I’m just a woman… are you going to kick me out of the party for my lie…?”

Damon raised an eyebrow, amused by the question.

“Right. That makes sense. This is why you didn’t have a party when the exam started.”

He rested his chin on his hand, mulling over his thoughts.

“…Even a loner like me has friends who put up with me. If I remember correctly, you had friends too.”

His eyes darkened slightly as he recalled.

“Weren’t you part of a clique? Yeah… I remember now. You were in the same group as that guy, Falz. You guys even created a club together.”

He snapped his fingers as if trying to recall something specific.

“Yeah, it was about knights or something… What was it called again? The Tower Shields?

Matlock lowered her head, eyes wide. Their club wasn’t popular, yet Damon knew about it.

“How…?”

He smiled coldly.

“I make it a point to learn as much as I can about my environment. Force of habit. Don’t think anything of it.”

She raised her head, her hair flying in the wind, and muttered under her breath.

“Or you’re just a stalker…”

Damon scoffed.

“I heard that. Not scared of me now, are we?”

Matlock bit her lip. She wouldn’t exactly say he wasn’t scary, but… not as much as before.

He smirked at her silence.

“Your friends were all boys. They kicked you out of the clique when they found out you were actually a girl. They must have felt betrayed… leaving you without a party, which made the professor ask my party to take you in as an extra.”

Damon chuckled.

“You must have thought you got lucky, getting added to the strongest party. But you weren’t. We ended up being teleported to a death zone.”

Matlock gritted her teeth.

“What do you want already? Get to the point! If you’re going to abandon me to die… just say it. I’m tired of being treated like I don’t matter. So what if I’m a girl…?”

Damon clapped his hands slowly, a mocking grin on his face.

“How brave. My fairy friend, you’ve changed. I expected you to be trembling in fear, not standing there with such boldness. Does it have to do with your class advancement?”

He jumped off the boulder, landing with ease, his expression turning cold. The massive axe on his back made him look even more terrifying.

“Since you asked for it, Matlock… I will definitely abandon you to die.”

Matlock’s eyes widened. She wouldn’t survive on her own. Not here.

Damon raised the massive axe to his shoulder.

Matlock gritted her teeth. Forward or backward, she was still going to die. She looked at Damon. He was stronger. Too strong. She could tell from his aura alone, he was a killer.

But…

She stood up, her head lowered.

“F… fine by me. Even if you throw me into that chasm… I will crawl out. I promised to live as myself, even if I’m someone else’s shadow. So I will fight… and die as myself.”

Damon’s grin widened at her resolve.

“If I threw you down there, you’d never live.”

He raised the axe and slammed it into the ground, crouching down to sit cross-legged.

“But I like this new you. I knew you had a strong will from the moment you blasted that Red Cap Goblin Mage.”

Matlock’s eyes widened. He wasn’t angry that she had hidden her identity?

All her life, being a woman had been her greatest weakness. She was never allowed to be herself. Never. She didn’t desire beautiful dresses—she just wanted someone to tell her she was strong just as she was.

Damon glanced at her.

“I don’t know what you mean by being someone’s shadow… but I do know you are strong, Matlock.”

He leaned against the giant axe, his gaze steady as he looked at the young fairy.

“So… what’s your story?”

Matlock blinked. Was he… asking for an explanation? Did he actually want to know about her pathetic past?

Her eyes shimmered with an unspoken emotion. A tearful glint.

She sat down beside him.

For the first time… someone was giving her the chance to explain herself without judgment.

She bit her lip, hesitating for only a moment before finally speaking.

“I was born in the frost continent, Norrath… in a small kingdom of predominantly patriarchal warrior fairies—Winterhaven.”