My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 727: Chapter 728: Starburst

“Aaghr..”

The scream of Bakemon’s most recent foe tore through the air, echoing across the blood-soaked plain. The sound was wet and guttural.

The kind of death cry that clawed at the spine. The body hit the ground with a dull thud, entrails spilling across broken earth.

Yet Bakemon didn’t even flinch. His crimson eyes were cold, indifferent, as if the act of killing had long lost its meaning.

The goddess-race champions who had assembled to face him lay scattered like broken dolls. All were dead, except one.

A lone woman with violet hair stood amidst the carnage, her expression calm, her eyes fixed on him.

Even when the others attacked, she remained still, watching detached, silent almost unreadable.

Everyone else had fought desperately for their lives. But not her. The reason was simple, no one sensed her. Even standing so close, it was as though she didn’t exist at all.

Bakemon only noticed her because he had come near enough to see what others could not.

He turned his gaze past her, to the far edge of the battlefield, where the priestess from the Snake Temple was convulsing violently. The sight was strange, her body twisting under a surge of energy that shimmered like heat over sand.

“What do you think she’s doing?”

The violet-haired woman finally spoke. Her voice was calm, melodic, almost bored. Bakemon recognized her now, Renata Malcrist.

It was rare for him to remember names, but this one had been drilled into him. Renata was powerful, one of the few he was warned about.

The Malcrist household had existed for centuries in Valtheron. Their true origins were murky, yet somehow always there since the dawn of the Third Epoch. Some whispered they rose from the peasant revolution; others believed they predated it entirely.

Their lineage was recorded with an details rivaling that of the Imperial Family and the Four Grand Duchies.

’Why would Paimon be interested in them…?’

In this generation, Renata was the last of her bloodline.

Bakemon’s attention drifted back to the priestess in the distance.

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied, his tone casual but wary.

“The priestesses of the Snake Temple have always been mysterious… even to us.”

Renata’s brow furrowed slightly. Damon had tasked her to watch the priestess closely and to kill her, if ordered. Yet he’d also given her freedom to act on her own judgment. This was her primary mission here.

“The witches of the Snake Temple,” she murmured, “who wield mysterious and unexpected phenomena. I’ve heard how dangerous they can be on the battlefield.”

Bakemon studied her closely. Her presence unsettled him. Like him, she wielded a conceptual attribute hers was called Zero.

“Yes,” she continued softly, “the Unknown God rarely answers, but when the priestess calls… he listens. Or so we are taught.”

She spoke without looking at him, the papers in her hand fluttering gently in the wind a strange contrast to the chaos around them. She looked more like a scholar than a killer, if not for the subtle aura that distorted the air around her.

“Her attribute… seems rare,” Renata said, her tone cautious.

“A Star attribute. The Snake Temple venerates the stars, she must be very treasured.”

He inched closer, each step silent, predatory.

A battle against Renata Malcrist would be dangerous, he knew that. To survive, he’d have to end it with a single, decisive strike.

“I imagine she is,” Bakemon replied calmly.

“Though I wouldn’t know. I’m not of the temple. Still, it baffles me that such a temple exists at all. The Unknown God cares little for worship.”

Bakemon took another step closer.

“The temple is more for the goddess — and for control,” he said.

“A desire to command others in the name of a god.”

Renata still didn’t turn, though her eyes gleamed faintly. A single bead of sweat rolled down her chin.

“That sounds like blasphemy,” she whispered. “You could be killed for that.”

Bakemon smiled.

“That only happens to your goddess followers,” he said, his tone almost amused.

“The Unknown God is open to criticism. He is imperfect like all things, forever growing.”

He raised his hand, fingers curling into a claw.

“And what grows… dies!”

In an instant, he blurred a streak of white cutting through the air. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he moved, faster than sight, reaching for her throat.

Renata released the papers in her hand. The moment they slipped free, time itself seemed to slow. Her lips curved into a smile.

Bakemon’s fist tore through the falling papers but then halted, frozen mid-air. His entire force, his magic, everything… had been reduced to zero.

Before he could react, Renata’s palm struck.

Her hand punched through his chest with a sickening crack. Bakemon was hurled backward, blood spraying like mist, a gaping hole where his heart should have been.

She smirked, lowering her hand.

“I set everything to zero except that paper,” she said coldly.

“Gave it mass, density, made it as solid and immovable as I wished.”

Bakemon coughed violently, clutching his chest as blood poured between his fingers.

“That has to… be breaking all physical laws,” he wheezed.

Renata merely shrugged.

“Actually, it’s magic. Isn’t that what magic is?” she repiled.

“Doing whatever you please. As a fellow mage, I’m surprised you let yourself be so restricted. Everything and anything is possible with magic.”

Bakemon laughed weakly, the sound hollow and rasping.

“Well played… I underestimated you. Now I understand why they call you the Mage Killer… next time.”

Renata’s face hardened.

“There won’t be a next time.”

He chuckled, even as blood dripped from his mouth.

“Till we meet again.”

Bakemon pulled a staff from his back and tapped it to the ground.

“Order.”

A surge of light erupted, swallowing him whole and when it faded, he was gone.

Renata exhaled, scanning the area, her eyes sharp.

“He can’t have gone far,” she murmured. “The combat zone’s sealed. And he’s bleeding out.”

She paused, thinking.

’I can’t leave, I still need to watch the priestess.’

’One of Baal’s children… he’s powerful, but Lord Ashcroft is still superior.’

Her thoughts were interrupted when a red-haired woman entered the battlefield in the distance.

Renata’s expression soured.

“Lilith Astranova,” she muttered, her tone faintly irritated.

But then the priestess stopped convulsing.

Renata turned sharply. A second presence appeared from the opposite side a young woman with snow-white hair.

Sylvia Moonveil.

The instant Sylvia appeared, the priestess drew a knife and slit her own wrist.

Renata’s eyes widened. She moved to intervene but something slammed into her from the side, sending her crashing through stone.

Bakemon stood there again, blood dripping down his chin, smiling wickedly.

“I knew you’d let your guard down.”

Renata coughed blood, vision swimming.

The priestess’s body glowed and a pillar of starlight erupted skyward.

The heavens themselves shifted. The entire battlefield froze as the light spread, painting the sky in billions of stars.

“Damn it…” Renata whispered.

The final act had begun. The world itself trembled as the stars wept and from the horizon, a figure rode forth upon a Wendigo, its roar shaking the heavens.

Damon had arrived.