My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

The Grand Duke stepped out of the ballroom, a sore expression etched onto his face. His long golden hair, streaked faintly with silver, gleamed under the hallway torches as he walked.

His steps echoed through the corridor. The air was cold.

Ahead, a group of knights stood at attention. Nearby, a few figures were quietly examining the scene—marking signs, measuring remnants of magic, searching for something that no longer lingered.

Cassian walked beside his father, wearing a calm expression, but his gaze was sharp.

As they approached the cordoned section of the hall—the place where it happened—Cassian’s eyes drifted toward a single figure that stood out.

A maid. Silent. Still.

He spoke calmly. “Jarvis. Report.”

The maid bowed her head.

It was Jarvis, of course. Truth be told, even Cassian didn’t know much about Jarvis. The entity had served the Brightwater household for centuries, but what Jarvis truly was—his original form, or even his true name—was a mystery. Jarvis wore many faces. Today, he simply chose a maid’s.

But if there was one truth, it was this.

Jarvis was the most loyal servant the Brightwater household had ever known.

She spoke, in a beautiful tone.

“A single knight—Almord Thresh of the Second Rank—discovered an intruder. One of unknown affiliation. Unknown appearance. No traceable energy signature. No identifiable race or objective. We currently have—”

“Enough,” the Grand Duke cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“I don’t need to hear what you don’t know. What have you learned? Where is Almord Thresh?”

Jarvis nodded and gestured.

The knight who had fought Damon earlier stepped forward and knelt. A fresh bruise sat above his right eye. Sweat dotted his brow.

The Grand Duke’s voice was quiet.

“What did you see?”

Almord bowed deeper. “As Sir Jarvis said, Your Grace… the entity was faceless. I couldn’t tell you if it was male or female. I couldn’t judge its height, race, even its presence. It was… like there was a disconnect between my mind and eyes. I was staring directly at it, but I couldn’t comprehend anything.”

Cassian glanced at his father.

Now this was something new.

Someone had the gall to infiltrate the Grand Duke’s personal chambers. That wasn’t just daring—it was suicidal.

Almord hesitated, then bit his lip.

“I… used my skill—Blessing of Truth—to try and force a single truth from it. A name.”

The Grand Duke’s expression twisted into a cold smile.

Jarvis explained calmly. “It is a second-class skill, unique to Almord. It allows him to force a singular truth from a target. However, it can only be used once per person. The greater the target’s resistance, the deeper the curse the user suffers.”

Cassian narrowed his eyes. “It’s not a mind skill?”

Almord shook his head. “No, Your Grace. It doesn’t interfere with thought—it imposes truth upon the world. Whether they want to speak or not, it manifests. But I… I suffered a backlash.”

The Grand Duke leaned forward slightly.

“What truth did you uncover?”

Almord clenched his gauntleted fists. A sharp metallic click echoed as he forced the words out.

“His name… or at least, the name he gave… is Amon.”

The Grand Duke went silent.

His eyes slowly closed.

“…Amon.”

Cassian waved the knight away, then followed his father as they entered the private chambers. Once the doors shut behind them, the atmosphere shifted.

Cassian leaned against the wall beside a large portrait of Ranar, the Grand Duke’s daughter.

“So… what do you think? Who—or what—was that?”

The Grand Duke shook his head. “I attacked it directly… yet I’m certain it’s still alive. Find him.”

Cassian gave a short nod. “As you wish.”

He paused, then turned to face his father fully.

“With that out of the way… what about Damon? I thought you planned to reveal his existence tonight.”

The Grand Duke sighed and walked to the hearth, staring into the cold fireplace.

“I was… but after everything he’s endured, I wanted to create a good impression. In his eyes, I am the man who cast aside his mother. What’s to stop me from casting aside her children, too?”

He looked at Cassian, his eyes distant.

“That boy… survived the streets of Valerion while protecting his little sister. I expect resentment.”

Cassian’s expression didn’t change, but he saw it clearly now—the guilt in his father’s eyes.

“You’re afraid,” Cassian said bluntly. “Afraid that if you reach out… he’ll reject you.”

The Grand Duke said nothing.

“You feel guilty,” Cassian continued. “That’s why.”

The old man’s gaze drifted toward a portrait of his daughter.

“…Am I that obvious?” he murmured. “Still… is it wrong for me to want them home? Damon and Luna… They’re family.”

Cassian sighed. “You don’t have to tell him. You can want him home without confessing everything.”

He stepped closer, voice firm.

“But you can’t have it both ways. You can’t keep secrets and expect trust.”

The Grand Duke chuckled softly. “Yes… I know.”

Cassian looked pained for a moment.

“I feel guilty too. I should have stopped you back then. Saying ‘I tried’ isn’t good enough.”

A long silence passed between them.

Then Cassian said, “In that case… why not bring Damon here?”

The Grand Duke raised an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting I grant him a noble title? Make him a vassal?”

He shook his head. “That’s not enough for this greedy old man. My flesh and blood, kneeling and kissing the ring? I wouldn’t accept that.”

Cassian understood. Becoming a noble vassal would grant Damon status, land, and authority—but not family. He would be subordinate. Not kin. A banner-man, not a son.

“That’s not what I’m suggesting,” Cassian said.

He paused, then added with a faint smile, “I have a better idea. One that doesn’t involve titles… one that doesn’t involve forcing anything.”

The Grand Duke studied him.

“…Go on.”

Cassian looked up at the chandelier. “You want Damon to come home. You want Luna with him. You want them as family.”

He turned, eyes sharp.

“Then let’s make him family.”

The Grand Duke blinked. “You… have an artifact that lets me go back nineteen years and undo everything I did?”

Cassian smirked. “No. I have something better.”

He placed a hand over his heart.

“A daughter of my own.”

The Grand Duke stiffened. “Evangeline.”

Cassian nodded.

“Yes. If Evangeline marries Damon, he becomes family. Whether the world knows he’s your grandson or not doesn’t matter—he’d be the Duke’s son-in-law. Luna would come too, by virtue of blood.”

The Grand Duke’s eyes widened.

“You want me to marry off my granddaughter to my grandson?!”

Cassian didn’t flinch. “It’s not unheard of. Noble families often marry cousins. It keeps the bloodline pure. Keeps our techniques within the family.”

The old man’s hands trembled. The plan was… perfect. But it had one fatal flaw.

“I… I would never force Evangeline. I won’t make the same mistake twice…”

Cassian smiled knowingly. His golden eyes flickered.

“Don’t worry about Evangeline,” he said softly.

“She’ll agree. Of that, I am sure.”

He placed a hand on his father’s shoulder.

“All we have to do… is play matchmaker.”