My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Damon sighed.

That was his third sigh… in the last two minutes.

He leaned his head back against the moldy stone wall of the detention cell, staring blankly at the flickering torchlight above. Chains clinked softly as he adjusted his position, the scent of old straw and dried blood hanging in the air like rot.

“I knew it… I just knew it…” he muttered under his breath. “My luck’s always been damnable. But this…”

He groaned aloud, his voice echoing across the cell block as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Ahhh…”

Another sigh. Fourth one now.

Evangeline’s eye twitched from across the holding cell on the opposite side. Her hands were clenched into fists, knuckles white as she stared at him through the iron bars separating the men from the women.

“If there wasn’t a bar between us,” she hissed through clenched teeth, “I’d kill him.”

Damon raised his head slowly, eyes locking onto hers with theatrical offense.

“You know… I’ve been arrested several times,” he said with a nonchalant shrug, voice echoing lazily.

“But somehow, I was always let go. So technically, I’ve never had a criminal record. I mean, sure, I’ve smuggled, stolen, maybe committed a few crimes I won’t name in the light of day…”

He inhaled deeply, rubbing a hand down his face.

“But I never thought I’d go down because of you!”

His finger shot out, accusatory, aiming straight at Evangeline.

She gasped, eyes wide. “Because of me?! You—! You’re the one who ripped a guy’s arms off!”

Xander groaned, running a hand down his face as he leaned against the damp wall, the stale taste of cheap ale still lingering in his mouth.

“Can we not do this here, guys? Please?”

But it was too late. The two of them turned simultaneously to shout over him.

“He started it!”

“She started it!”

Leona watched with a flat, unamused expression, her arms crossed as she leaned back against the bars.

“I feel like you two might be the most immature members of our party… and that’s saying something. Coming from me.”

Sylvia, completely undisturbed, clapped her hands with excitement.

“That was so exciting! This is only my second-ever tavern fight!”

Evangeline turned to her with a look of pure disbelief.

“You’ve… been fighting in taverns?”

Sylvia blinked innocently, then glanced at Damon.

“Erhm… Damon took me on a date once and, uh… we started a tavern fight.”

Every head turned to stare at Damon, who was sitting cross-legged in the men’s cell, opposite the girls.

Leona’s eyes narrowed, her pout forming immediately. “You took her to a tavern without me…”

Evangeline, meanwhile, was trembling with rage.

“You piece of human garbage… You took her on a date… and chose a tavern?! How low can you fall?!”

Damon chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.

Apparently, not low enough. He remembered clearly making Sylvia eat bugger goblin meat until she threw up, among other tragedies. It had been her first date ever.

“Ahhh… good times.”

Evangeline reached for the bars, trying in vain to cast a spell, but the magic-inhibiting shackles nullified everything. Even her skills cost mana—she couldn’t so much as conjure a spark.

“If we get out of here,” she hissed, “make peace with our Creator, the Goddess… because I’m ending you.”

Damon stood up with a stretch.

“Relax, guys. This isn’t my first time dealing with the law. At most, we’ll get a slap on the wrist and someone’ll pay our bail…”

The room fell silent as they all stared at him, unimpressed.

Sylvia slowly raised her hand.

“Actually, fearless leader… we obliterated a tavern. And the surrounding buildings. Caused massive property damage. Beat up and brutally humiliated local adventurers and patrons in the bar… By my calculations, we’d be going away for a very long time.”

Xander sighed as she spoke, covering his face again.

—

How it started…

It had begun the moment they stepped into the tavern. Sylvia, overly eager from her noble confinement, had romanticized the idea of taverns since she was a child.

Naturally, the first thing she did was kick open the door and yell, “Bar keep! Serve us your finest ale!”

Damon grinned with pride from the side. She learned from the best.

They stuck out like royal peacocks in a coop full of roosters. Their armor—high quality, well-kept, expensive—screamed wealth and power. In a city like Gladstone, that made them targets.

Especially for greedy adventurers.

To make things worse, most of their party was composed of beautiful women… and then there were Damon and Xander—easy on the eyes in their own right.

Naturally, they drew gazes. Some greedy, some envious… and some, depraved.

But having survived the Whispering Forest, the Duhu Mountains, and Lysithara itself—Damon’s party had long since developed reflexes for danger. They felt the stares even before they saw them.

They had been the subjects of many horrors’ gaze, subconsciously. They hated being watched maliciously.

And beneath their smiles, every one of them was ready to fight.

The final straw came with the ale.

Evangeline had taken one sip, expecting something passable, maybe even refined. Instead, she spat it back into the cup.

“What is this? It’s like drinking urine!”

“You know what piss tastes like…. Noted.”

Damon laughed heartily.

Sylvia, meanwhile, was enjoying the novelty of it all—until one of the watching adventurers muttered too loudly.

“Looks like this one doesn’t have a palate. No wonder she’s built like a slut… Which old man did you screw to get that fancy armor?”

Evangeline’s eyes sharpened dangerously.

Damon placed a hand on hers, forcing a calm smile.

“Ignore them. Don’t want to start anything. Words can’t hurt anyone…”

He took a sip from his mug. Bitter.

Then came the second voice, bolder.

“Heh… Rush Claw… think he’d let me borrow that elven bitch for a night if I ask real nicely?”

He licked his lips, chuckling.

“Those hips… look real nice.”

They roared with laughter.

Sylvia blinked, still unsure if this was part of the tavern charm. But Damon’s smile had already disappeared.

He rose slowly, crossing the floor.

Without a word, without warning, he grabbed the laughing adventurer by the shoulder—

And ripped his arm clean off.

Blood sprayed in a wide arc across the wooden wall.

The tavern went silent. For half a second.

Then chaos exploded.

Matia summoned a mace from solid ice, the sound of cracking frost filling the air. Xander stood with a groan, bracing himself. Chairs shattered. Tables were flipped. Screams followed, and the building came down by the time it was over.

—

Back in the present, Damon cleared his throat, face blank as he looked at the iron bars of the knight’s holding facility.

“…And that’s how we were arrested.”

The cell smelled of mold and wet hay. The magic inhibitors were starting to chafe against his wrists.

“Depending on who we know, we might be lucky. The law here’s unequal—Evangeline’s the duchess, after all. With crimes like ours, we won’t be seeing a low-level magistrate…”

He raised his eyes to meet the others.

“No. We’ll be meeting a big wing. The Commander of the Fort.”

As if summoned by his words, the heavy iron doors creaked open.

Five knights entered the holding area, armored and grim-faced. Their swords glinted under torchlight.

“Come with us,” one barked. “The commander wants to see you. You’ll regret causing trouble in the Brightwater Duchy.”

Chains rattled. Shackles tightened. The group was pulled to their feet and led out in a tight line toward a prison carriage waiting outside the hall.

Damon glanced sidelong at Evangeline, a crooked smile twitching at the edge of his lips.

“Well…” he muttered, “this should be interesting.”

“What a nice homecoming, Eva.”