My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

The room suddenly felt heavier, as if the very air had thickened with power. Even though none of them were physically present, their sheer will and presence leaked through the visual communication crystals, pressing down like invisible mountains.

Lilith clenched her fist. This is going to be troublesome…

“Ahhh, this is some good tea… You should try some.”

She blinked, glancing to her side. The headmaster, somewhere along the line, had produced a full tea set, complete with steam rising from a porcelain cup.

When did he…?

She gave up trying to understand. Why would I ever expect an old monster like him to be comprehensible?

Across the crystal array, Kadelas Moonveil’s icy gaze cut through the silence. The Elf King looked utterly unimpressed, his patience threadbare. His long white hair shimmered faintly with magic as his anger surged.

“That’s enough. You’ve wasted our time long enough. No more stalling. I want an explanation. Where is my daughter?”

Lilith remained silent. This wasn’t her place to speak—yet. Not until she was addressed.

The headmaster simply stroked his beard with maddening calm.

“Your daughter? Ahhh, you must mean sweet Sylvia. Why, of course…”

The magic around Kadelas pulsed, his fury barely restrained. The crystal trembled faintly from his leaking power.

The headmaster offered a polite, almost amused smile.

“Careful not to break your communication crystal. These things are quite fragile…”

Before Kadelas could retort, another voice cut in—low and gravelly.

“Calm yourself, King of Elves. Sylvia is not the only one missing. Leona is gone as well. It would behoove us to hear the academy out before pointing fingers.”

Leon. The Roaring Gale. His dark hair hung like a black mane over his shoulders, and despite the calm in his voice, there was power behind it—restrained, but unmistakable.

Kadelas took a long breath. He knew it. Fury would gain him nothing here.

“Very well then…” he said tightly.

Lilith studied the beastkin chieftain. He was measured and controlled—far more thoughtful than his daughter, who let her heart steer her more than her head. Then again, Lilith couldn’t be sure if that was truly the case or just surface-level perception.

Faldren of Winterhaven looked on, his expression carved from ice.

“If Matlock dies, it is of no consequence. However… I would still prefer he did not.”

Cassian Brightwater turned his golden eyes on Faldren with unveiled contempt.

“What kind of parent says that about their own child? Is Matlock not your only son?”

Faldren offered no response, the silence damning in its own right.

Until now, Duke Ravenscroft had been silent, observing the storm from behind folded hands. But at last, the stalwart Aspen Ravenscroft spoke.

“Let us proceed. The longer we waste time here, the greater the danger to our children.”

The headmaster gave a slow, respectful nod, his expression finally turning serious.

“Very well then…”

Marabel slowly stood, a small stack of documents clutched in her hands. Her voice was gentle but carried the weight of authority.

“If you would excuse this old lady… ahem,” she cleared her throat softly, “as of the start of the semester evaluation, the Academy had intended to train the first-years by giving them real-world experience. An open-world scenario that was meant to last a week. Danger—and even death—was a real possibility, though this particular case strayed far beyond expectations.”

She glanced around the room, her expression tight with concern.

“We had planned to teleport the students to various locations across the region. However, a mishap occurred—and the party consisting of Damon Grey, Sylvia Moonveil, Leona Valefier, Evangeline Brightwater, Xander Ravenscroft, and Matlock Faldren… all disappeared.”

Cassian’s voice cut in sharply, laced with suspicion.

“A mishap… or sabotage?”

Marabel nodded grimly.

“We suspect sabotage.”

Lilith felt her heart pound against her ribs. This is where things are going to spiral.

Kadelas narrowed his eyes, voice sharp.

“Could someone be targeting my daughter?”

Leon exhaled with quiet frustration.

“All our children are of high nobility. It could be any of them.” He paused, then added, “Though… I’ve never heard of House Grey.”

Marabel nodded. “There isn’t one. He’s a commoner.”

Cassian muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing.

“Grey… a commoner?”

He looked up. “Where is he from?”

Marabel opened her mouth, but Kadelas interrupted with rising anger.

“I don’t care where he’s from. I want to know who did this. Who was the target?”

The headmaster stroked his beard, his expression unreadable.

“Yes… by all means, it should have been one of your children. You have many enemies—both within and beyond your borders. But this time… that’s not the case.”

Cassian frowned, his voice laced with disbelief.

“You’re telling me the commoner was the target? Someone wanted him dead, and our children were just caught in the crossfire?”

Lilith’s chest tightened. Cassian Brightwater—cold and calculating—had drawn his conclusion with terrifying speed.

“Yes,” the headmaster said softly. “Someone wanted him dead.”

Kadelas clenched his fists, power rippling through the crystal projection.

“You’re telling me a lowly commoner was meant to die, and my daughter was dragged into it as collateral damage? Do you know how absurd that sounds?!”

The headmaster only smiled, calm as ever.

Lilith’s eyes narrowed. The old monster was sending all of this toward Damon—laying the weight of it at his feet.

Then Aspen Ravenscroft asked the one question that finally mattered.

“Who did it—and why?”

Lilith decided it was time to speak. Her voice cut through the tension.

“A dark spirit summoner.”

All eyes turned to her.

“Sylvia Moonveil was possessed by a dark spirit. The summoner had planned to use her body as a vessel to extract its power.”

She paused, glancing at the headmaster briefly.

“The spirit in question… was the great spirit Rashi Ignath.”

Cassian stared at her, clearly unimpressed.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant. Or how she even survived.”

Lilith nodded.

“It is relevant. She survived because Damon Grey rescued her.”

Aspen stroked his chin, his voice calm and thoughtful.

“Must be quite the commoner, if he managed to defeat a dark spirit… Ignath, no less.”

The headmaster nodded, casting a look toward Cassian Brightwater.

“Yes, he is. After all, he received a golden ticket from Seras herself… and rose to the top of his class through sheer grit.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed, skeptical.

“I see. So, he’s connected to that woman.”

The headmaster shook his head with a smile.

“No. They’ve never met. The ticket was something she gave to his parents—his father, Noctis Grey, and his—”

“I don’t care who his parents are,” Cassian snapped, cutting him off mid-sentence. His hands trembled slightly.

“Enough. Why are we discussing this no-name commoner when we should be getting answers and finding a way to save our wards?”

That final word silenced the room.

The others slowly nodded in agreement. Lilith blinked, momentarily confused by how quickly Cassian had driven the topic away from Damon Grey.

‘What… just happened?’

But there was no time to think. The nobles launched accusation after accusation, their voices rising and clashing like swords. The headmaster deflected each with calm precision. Eventually, it was agreed that the missing students were trapped in a death zone—one of the many within the region—but which one remained undetermined.

After hours of tense discussion, the meeting finally adjourned.

Cassian’s crystal was the first to flicker out.

He sat alone, his golden eyes cold as the pale light of twin moons bathed his room in silver. The polished opulence of his chair reflected his status—imposing and absolute.

“Jarvis.”

A shadow knelt behind him, silent and obedient.

“I want everything. Every detail on the student named Damon Grey.”

The shadow disappeared.

Cassian turned to the window, voice a low murmur.

“Damon Grey…”