My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Choice. What was choice? How would one define it?

It was an option. A right to free judgment. A right to decide.

In the end, choice was merely a decision.

However, in this world—or any world—you didn’t always get a choice. And that was why choice was a gift.

Choice was simply fate.

Because fate was merely choices that were beyond you. Fate was just a collection of decisions that led to a predestined outcome, born from collective results.

Fate, after all, was just a collection of choices beyond one’s control—a chain of decisions leading to outcomes that had long been set in motion.

Or perhaps.

Fate was nothing more than the culmination of choices that were beyond your control. A web of decisions—some yours, most not—that spiraled into a predestined outcome shaped by the will of countless others.

Valarie sighed.

“At least, that’s what Mugu was spouting…”

Damon’s eyebrow twitched.

He felt a mild desire to stomp on the pair of lips resting on his shoulder.

She had just been telling them something important, and the next thing they knew, she didn’t remember a thing. It was like she had a selective memory that only kicked in when it was convenient for her.

And for whatever reason, she started spouting nonsense about choice when Damon had tried reminding her of what she was talking about just a few seconds ago.

“You’re like an old woman who can’t remember what she’s talking about—by the goddess, I will throw you off my shoulder and stomp on you…”

Valarie’s lips widened. “You… you—how dare you! I am not an old woman! I’m only thousands of years old! I’m not that old! In fact, I know a very beautiful woman who’s older and still unmarried… I’m not old!”

Damon sneered with disdain at her aggravated voice. She was getting really defensive. Looks like he touched a sore spot.

“Oh really? Who—Granny?”

She pressed her lips together in frustration.

“I’ve heard of someone older. She’s four billion years old, as old as the current Omniverse—or so I’ve heard… and she’s still just… unwed. Hah.”

Her cover sounded weak at the end, almost as if she found the whole thing unbelievable herself.

Damon was skeptical. Where had she even heard of a woman who was four billion years old and still unmarried? She also mentioned how the woman was the same age as the Omniverse itself, but… he didn’t think too hard on that.

“So, a gazillion-year-old spinster? Are you sure she’s actually beautiful? Bet no man wants her ancient ass.”

Valarie’s lips pressed together awkwardly, almost as if afraid of something.

“Ermm… I wouldn’t say that if I were you…”

Damon scoffed. “Why? Is she a toad?”

Valarie’s voice was quiet, whispering.

“If she was a toad, I wouldn’t be warning you. It… it’s the Minerva. The goddess… of doom…”

Damon instantly froze.

He almost felt as if he had brushed sides with death.

Wasn’t she their world’s creator?

And wasn’t there a tale about her obliterating the legendary demon lord Ashcroft for speaking a taboo in her temple?

‘What if this was the taboo…?’

He felt a chill crawl up his spine.

He did not want to end up as the main character of a cosmic tragedy.

Wait—wasn’t she also the bride of the Unknown God?

Nothing was adding up.

“Pfft… hahaha… you’re so cute. The goddess doesn’t care about something like that. I mean, she is four billion years old—according to the Visitors.”

Damon leaned in, whispering the tale of Ashcroft into her ear—or rather, where her ear would have been, if she wasn’t just a pair of lips.

Valarie paused.

“Ahem… on second thought, never mind…”

He sighed, feeling the air grow heavier the farther they went into the city.

There were no remains here—only remnants of broken weapons and what could only be described as mold-covered, ancient bloodstains.

Valarie had grown quiet.

“What, cat got your tongue?”

He stopped himself.

Valarie didn’t have a tongue—despite being a pair of lips, she still talked.

She smiled.

“It’s nothing… I just remember… pools of blood here so deep… the bodies of knights… and the fishy smell of blood making me dizzy… the screams, the cries, the fear… I hated it… but I was powerless to do anything about it…”

Her smile seemed forced. Wider than usual.

Even as just a pair of lips, Damon had learned to read her expressions.

“It was around that time we learned the technology we used to open the Metaverse Gate had long since been spread across the world. I mean… we knew that. But we got arrogant, thinking they couldn’t replicate it on the Magic Continent.”

Damon felt her sadness.

“They did… and spread it, right?”

Her smile faltered slightly. Her voice dropped low.

“No… they didn’t. Not alone. They worked together… by the time we learned of our folly… they were also suffering from the consequences…”

Damon listened.

It seemed like another one of her lost memories had been triggered.

“At first, the Visitors brought knowledge—and many good things. But by the time the other continents let them in… they showed their true colors. Well… some of them weren’t pure evil, but they still had their own agendas.”

She paused.

“Do you see that window over there…?”

Damon nodded, looking at a shattered building—one that must have once been grand, reinforced with military architecture and runes to support its structure.

Now, it was charred and ruined.

“Hmm. I see it.”

“I was standing right there when I received the news that the Voyage Continent had been freed from its drought. Rain had come…”

Damon didn’t think she was about to share good news.

“It wasn’t good news, was it…”

He recalled the description of his skill Water Celebration.

It had hinted at how this tale ended.

“Yes. It wasn’t. The rain came—after years of drought—but it never stopped. It rained until the continent was little more than an archipelago…”

“Turns out it was all because of an outsider.”

Damon recalled the end of that tragedy.

“They drowned… under the weight of their own celebration.”

She smiled faintly.

“Lysithara was where it all began. But the Doom Continent… was the worst hit. That place will be filled with monsters for many, many years to come…”

Damon narrowed his eyes. That place was now known as the Demon Continent.

It was the most dangerous region in the world.

Only the strong survive on the Demon Continent.

It truly earned the name Ashcroft had given it.

Then again… Doom Continent wasn’t exactly an auspicious name either.