My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Death was an awkward topic of conversation. It always had been.

People preferred silence over sharing the weight of their trauma—especially with strangers. Unless there was some degree of trust or familiarity, no one wanted to talk about loss.

And pressing for details?

That could come off as rude… and painfully insensitive.

Especially when it involved someone’s mother.

Damon kept his face impassive, expression locked in neutral stillness. He hoped the topic would fade with his single-word answer.

He didn’t mind answering questions—but being dissected for answers…?

That hit too close to home.

It dragged up the worst parts of his childhood.

Still… the Grand Duke’s expression remained heavy.

Unmoving.

Damon felt the powerful weight of that gaze again, then heard the next question, softer—almost hesitant.

“H…how did she die?”

Evangeline stiffened. Her complexion paled.

She recognized that look on Damon’s face. He wore it when he was just about out of patience.

“She died in the Demon Wars…”

The words left his mouth flat, cold.

Before the Grand Duke could respond again, Evangeline stood abruptly. It was as if she didn’t know what to say, so she blurted out the first thing that crossed her mind.

“Ermh… Damon has been living in Valerion with his sister ever since… ermh… he enrolled in the academy. And he’s ranked first among the first-years…”

Cassian sighed quietly and raised his wine glass.

“I’m sorry for your loss…”

Across the table, the Duchess—Annalise—watched her daughter. She caught the subtle gestures Evangeline made, caught the unease in her movements.

Even though she was the host’s wife, she was little more than a spectator now. The discussion had turned—gone down a path that none of the men at the table wanted to explain.

Still… she noticed the strangeness. The Grand Duke had left his wing of the palace.

A man who hadn’t so much as acknowledged his duties in nearly twenty years.

And it wasn’t for Evangeline.

His eyes… never once strayed from that boy.

Any other person might have felt offended.

Or wounded.

But even Evangeline looked unsettled.

‘Is my family keeping something from me?’

The Duchess leaned back, eyes narrowing faintly.

‘Who is this boy? There’s no way he’s just a commoner. Not with that etiquette. Not with that presence. And definitely not with my father-in-law’s attention on him…’

She didn’t ask. She knew she wouldn’t get answers here. Not from them.

“What is going on right now?”

Cassian took another sip and placed the glass down lightly.

“I’ve been quite curious about your travels. Evangeline hinted at a few things, but to me… it’s almost miraculous. A group of children surviving the Duhu Mountains, crossing the Whispering Forest, and enduring the horrors of Lysithara.”

The Grand Duke glanced at him. Cassian offered a small smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes.

‘We have time, Father. No need to rush. We already know all we need to know.’

And just like that—Cassian took hold of the conversation again.

His gaze shifted toward Sylvia, who had been quiet this whole time… though her eyes had occasionally flicked toward Damon, betraying her thoughts.

She wore a pristine white dress—elven in design—with small woven flowers tucked into her hair.

“I heard this all began because you crossed the perpetrator behind the dark spirit incident at the academy,” Cassian said, his voice casual but sharp.

“The White Ruler had been displeased that a commoner dragged his daughter into trouble…”

Sylvia straightened in her seat, lips parting.

“That’s not—”

Damon cut her off before she could continue.

So that’s what this is about.

“Doubtful,” Damon said flatly. “Why would the White Ruler be displeased? If anything, I’m surprised you’re not displeased with him, Your Grace.”

His eyes flicked toward Sylvia for a heartbeat—an apology in his gaze—then back to Cassian.

“The primary target in that incident was always Lady Moonveil. The rest of us risked life and limb to save her. Should the Elf King not be grateful? He has no reason to condemn us. And moreover…”

Damon’s voice remained smooth, but his tone grew more cutting.

“…we can’t be certain the summoner of the dark spirit wasn’t targeting her again. The rest of us may have simply been collateral damage. In fact, you, Your Grace, nearly lost Lady Brightwater due to her friendship with Lady Moonveil…”

He placed his glass down slowly, deliberately.

“Shouldn’t you be displeased by the White Ruler?”

He paused, letting his words settle.

“Or do elves repay kindness with malice?”

The air went still.

A bold move. Perhaps reckless.

But necessary.

Nobles were not known for reason. Royalty even less. A commoner had no room for error—not when so many eyes were watching for blood.

Sylvia bowed her head, rising from her seat.

“I sincerely apologize for any trouble my father has caused. We elves… are not ungrateful.”

She closed her eyes, voice composed.

“I will speak with him personally to clear any misunderstandings. And I would like to formally thank my companions for protecting me. Especially Damon—who saved my life, time and again.”

Cassian looked at Damon again.

There was… respect in his eyes.

Damon had turned the narrative.

In only a few sentences, he made the White Ruler look ungrateful—perhaps even petty. A dangerous man had just been politically cornered, all without even stepping into the room.

And Sylvia—daughter of that same ruler—had publicly thanked a commoner and chastised her own kin.

Cassian smiled faintly, glass raised.

A commoner huh …? No. This boy is dangerous.

‘I was too focused on the name “Noctis Grey” during the meeting to handle the White Ruler myself. But with a few words… he turned the entire table. From victim to villain…. I I would love to see your expression now, Kadelas.’

‘It would be more interesting if he dared to say that to his face.’

Across the table, the Grand Duke studied Damon quietly.

He had noticed the boy biting his lip.

Not out of pride.

Out of guilt.

Even now, Damon was hurting—for using Sylvia like that.

It cost her very little. A bit of face, perhaps. A bit of standing.

But nothing more.

Still, his affection for her was clear.

The Grand Duke narrowed his eyes.

He didn’t like that.

Especially not with Kadelas Moonveil—the White Ruler—as her father.

“You have quite the way with words,” the Grand Duke said softly.

Then he turned to Sylvia.

“But since Lady Moonveil has confirmed it, I can testify that your words are correct.”

He gestured gently.

“You may sit down, child. There’s no need to worry. Now… why don’t you share how you survived, with this old man?”

Xander immediately sat straighter, seizing the chance to lighten the mood.

“We found ourselves stranded near the edge of Ashergon’s territory. A mana anomaly blocked the only safe route. One direction led to the dragon’s nest… the other through the Duhu Mountains and the Whispering Forest.”

He paused, fingers clenching slightly as the fear rose in his memory.

Leona picked up the thread.

“We didn’t have the luxury of waiting for help,” she said. “We were trapped. And the demon army was moving through the region.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed.

This was going to be quite the tale.