My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Pain spread through Damon’s body, his arm felt numb and stiff. Even so, he endured the pain just long enough to summon Ashborn…

The shadow-like flames licked up from his hand, writhing as if alive. They surged forth and engulfed the figure before him—a man who had become more tree than flesh, long lost to the rot. The flames clung to him, seeping into bark and bone, freeing him from his eternal torment in a blaze of silent mercy.

Damon had wanted to ask more questions, but the man’s mind had strayed too far after revealing the Keeper’s hopeless game. He’d rambled—senseless words spilled from cracked lips, muttering fragments of a poem… a song known in Valtheron.

The melody was soaked in homesickness. It bled from his voice—low, shaking, and deeply familiar. A feeling they all shared, having been trapped for so long in this nightmare… in this ruined city.

But his voice was soon lost, devoured by the cackling flames that feasted on both body and soul.

A small sigh escaped Damon’s lips as the man’s voice faded…

“Take me home… to a place… I belong…

Take me home… to a place steel was made…

Take me home to the hearth… of the sword…

Take me home to the land…”

He never finished the last line. Just as the final word died in his throat, Damon heard the familiar soft chime in his head.

[You have slain: Damned Knight Melos]

[You have gained: 50 Attribute Points]

[You have gained Mastery: Swordsmanship +50]

Damon lowered his head.

He was no stranger to suffering—but this… this was twisted. Crueler than the mundane tortures he had seen while running with the gangs in Valerion.

Evangeline lowered her gaze, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames.

“Take me home… to the place I belong…

Take me home… to the land of knight…

Take me to the high skies…”

The others turned toward her, silent. Xander opened his mouth and joined her softly.

“Take me to where rivers never end…

Take me to the…”

Their voices were fragile, low, but one by one, they all joined in—an unspoken memorial for the knight who had been lost to the rot.

Damon looked up at the bleak, grey sky. His voice came as a whisper.

“Take me to the place I will lay my bone, part of the blessed dust… where steel finds rest…”

It wasn’t a national anthem. Not something official. Just a song. A song everyone in Valtheron seemed to know.

“Here and now…” Damon’s voice was quiet.

The others stood in still silence, watching the last embers as Ashborn finished its work—turning both man and tree to ash.

“Lysithara isn’t the most welcoming place… but he can rest,” Damon muttered. “Here and now belongs to us. Our fate is rot or death…”

Xander nodded. “A shame we didn’t know his name… when we return, we could’ve at least given his family or any relative closure…”

Damon could already think of a dozen reasons why that was a bad idea. He wasn’t sentimental enough to ignore what had brought the knight here in the first place.

The man was on a secret mission, likely sent by the Imperial family. It was better not to know who he really was… even so—

Damon now knew his name.

Melos.

The system had revealed it to him, as it always did.

Not surprising. The system had come from the Unknown God—and that god was said to be the one who blessed names.

A god who knew the name of every being and thing.

‘Then what about me… why do I know the names of everyone I kill…’

Was this his curse? Was he damned to remember them all?

Even now, Damon hadn’t forgotten a single name the system had whispered into his ear…

He didn’t know what purpose the Unknown God had in the world of Aetherus—but deep in his gut, Damon had a feeling that here in Lysithara…

He’d find some answers.

The Unknown God had been setting up different pieces on his board… Lilith was a piece—she bore the god’s stigmata. Damon was another, with his unusual shadow and a system that demanded souls. Then there was Sylvia’s journey book—a tool belonging to the Unknown God.

He turned to his friends.

“Let’s go… it’s almost dark. Let’s get to that mansion… I don’t want to find out what this city looks like at night…”

The others all silently nodded.

They walked for a few minutes. The entire journey was uneventful—no creature attacked them. Maybe it was because they were still in the outskirts, or maybe it was because they were actively avoiding confrontation with the monsters.

Still, the signs of past battles were everywhere.

They passed through remnants of older times—traces of ruins, forgotten belongings, and corpses from different eras. Most had turned to bone, brittle and dry. Others crumbled into pieces at the slightest touch.

The city felt like a hollow monument. A bleak, ruined beauty.

Not far ahead, they found a mansion.

It wasn’t particularly large—more of a big house than a true mansion. But Damon seemed satisfied.

The others, born into blue-blooded families with wealth and lineage, saw it as a modest residence. Nothing special. But none of them wanted to spoil Damon’s small joy. In the middle of this apocalyptic wasteland, even a house like this felt like a miracle.

They stood at the front gate of the so-called mansion. Calling it “ruined” would’ve been unfair—it was in relatively good condition. A large yard stretched before them, guarded by a wide, barred gate.

Damon smiled, cursed sword in one hand, the other resting over his shoulder.

Evangeline looked at his shoulder with a hint of worry.

“We found a nice mansion… this place looks absolutely safe… in fact, I don’t even sense any danger…”

“This is different. The best place to be… oh, there’s no monsters in there at all…”

As soon as he said that, a large tentacle burst out of one of the mansion windows with a shriek that echoed like metal scraping stone.

He coughed slightly, eyes flicking to their deadpan expressions.

“Well, who needs a mansion anyway… I like that run-down house more…”

Sylvia smiled faintly, her journey book floating in front of her, pages shifting on their own.

“That is called a Lesser Metaverse Worm… it’s only at the first rank…”

Damon stared at them, his face a perfect picture of indignation.

“I hate when pests get in my house… let’s kill it…”