My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

By the time Damon woke up, the evening sun was already dipping below the horizon. He didn’t feel particularly rested. When he glanced down, he found Sylvia nestled in his arms, sound asleep. The others looked just as exhausted, their bodies heavy with lingering fatigue.

Leona mumbled in her sleep, leaning against Matia. “Damon… make something tasty…”

She must have been hungrier than she let on, trying to be considerate of their dwindling supplies.

Carefully, he shifted Sylvia away, making sure not to wake her. She stirred slightly but remained asleep. He got to his feet and rummaged through his supply bag, pulling out a dried piece of jerky.

He sighed. “This is all we have left, huh?” he muttered, taking a bite.

Sitting down, he gazed at the evening sky, watching as his shadow returned to him. In his hands was a weathered old book, its pages heavily worn from time. He read in silence, the minutes stretching on, until a deep rumble vibrated through the ground.

Damon’s gaze lifted from the book. He knew what would come next.

And just as expected—

A deafening roar split through the air. The force of it sent the wind howling through the distant trees, making his hair whip back.

He winced, gripping his ears against the overwhelming sound.

The others jolted awake, rolling out of their sleep with pained expressions, their hands clutching their ears. Slowly, the roar faded, leaving only the eerie quiet of the evening in its wake.

Damon, unfazed, sat there with a bored expression. He had heard the dragon’s roar many times before—although not quite this loud.

Glancing at the others, he remarked dryly,

“Great, you’re all awake. I must commend your audacity to sleep in such a dangerous place…”

Leona, still groggy, twisted her lips into a pout. “You’re the one who told us to rest…”

Damon nodded. “And you’ve rested. Now it’s time to talk… about our plan moving forward.”

The others exchanged looks before slowly nodding.

“We’ve made it past the demon army and put some distance between us and the dangers of the Duhu Mountains… but we’ve only jumped from the pan into the fire,” Damon said.

Leona clutched her stomach. “All these analogies are making me hungry…”

Xander crossed his arms. “You didn’t seem too bothered by our meager rations when we were being hunted by war trolls.”

She scowled at him. “Sorry, I was too busy trying not to die.”

Evangeline waved a hand dismissively.

“Leona’s gluttony aside… we’re not exactly safe. We’re too close to the Whispering Forest. But before we march toward our imminent demise, why don’t we address the mammoth in the room?”

Damon rolled his eyes. “How about we address why you’re talking like my nonexistent grandfather?”

She smirked. “I was actually talking like mine. If you want to meet him, I’d be happy to introduce you—of course, I’ll be brutally honest about your deplorable personality.”

Damon scoffed, muttering, “Takes one to know one…”

Sylvia sighed, stepping between them. “Let’s not do this, guys. I know we’re all excited to be alive, but we need to focus.”

She looked at Damon. “We have questions. And I can see you trying to rile Evangeline up, which means you don’t want to talk.”

Damon frowned. “You really think the worst of me, don’t you? Fine.”

Sylvia sighed, already exhausted. “Please don’t try to emotionally blackmail me. We need to be honest with each other, so let’s share the details of our classes and skills—including weaknesses.”

Xander let out a low whistle, grinning as he glanced at Damon.

“Some of us here—not naming any names—have trust issues. Especially when it comes to, cough cough, weaknesses. Not pointing fingers or anything, cough cough, Damon.”

Damon’s eye twitched. They really thought they had him all figured out.

“I wasn’t going to hide anything, so I’ll go first.”

Leona narrowed her eyes playfully. “Pretty suspicious that you want to share the details of your class first… I smell an underhanded scheme.”

Damon sighed. “This is what I get for being a good person. Fine, I won’t tell.”

Matia, her wings fluttering, paused. “Wait… how do we know he didn’t just bait us so he’d have an excuse not to tell?”

Evangeline nodded in agreement. “You might be new, but it seems you’ve got him figured out. Good job.”

Damon stared at them with a deadpan expression.

“I really hate that everyone just assumes I’m going to lie and manipulate you all for my own ends while keeping my class skills secret…”

“You will,” they all echoed in unison.

Damon sighed. “My class is called Death Dealer—Merchant in Blood, Dealer in Death.”

The group fell silent as he hesitated, tension settling over his features.

“My class skill is called Ashborn…” He bit his lip as if reluctant to speak.

“It allows me to manipulate dark powers by stealing the abilities of the first dark entity I defeat… for a price. And there are consequences.”

The group stared at him with intense expressions, waiting for him to continue. Damon hesitated, as if debating whether to reveal the full truth.

“The stronger the dark entity I defeat, the more severe the consequences. Naturally, the first dark spirit I defeated was Ignath… so the skill manifested before my awakening…. Come from him…”

Sylvia narrowed her eyes. She half-believed him when he mentioned Ignath, guilt creeping into her expression. She didn’t want to think Damon would lie about something this serious… even though she knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

Damon noted her reaction. He wasn’t telling any truths—only lies. As if he’d ever trust them with his actual class skill.

Truthfully, there was no point in revealing it since he couldn’t even use it. The skill he’d rely on most was Ashborn, and this explanation would justify why he could suddenly wield the power of a dark spirit without being suspected of heresy… or accused of making a contract with an evil entity.

He had also chosen his words carefully to guilt-trip Sylvia. Now, she wouldn’t pry too much. As for his shadow, she didn’t suspect it—yet. He’d have to come up with a convincing lie for that one day.

Sylvia met his gaze. “What’s the price?”

Damon nodded slowly, biting his lip. “One of the consequences of using stolen power… is that I experience the pain of burning alive—tenfold—every time I use it.”

The others paled. Sylvia’s face twisted in horror.

She dreaded to think of Damon suffering like that.

Her hands clenched. Her face went pale.

“This… th-this is all my fault…”