My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 750: Chapter 751: Lake Center

This was quite the unusual situation for Damon or maybe it wasn’t that unusual but being haunted by an evil spirit had never crossed his mind. It wasn’t something Damon ever worried about, simply because he had the power to burn the souls of his targets with Ashborn.

However, he was in a dilemma, since he couldn’t use Ashborn at the moment.

He twisted his neck slowly, feeling how heavy the woman or whatever it was sitting on his shoulder felt. She was heavy. The weight pressed into his muscles, making his movements sluggish and strained.

Damon glanced at the reflection before him. In a cold, steady voice, he spoke.

“Leave this vessel. It’s mine… or else.”

Silence lingered for a moment, but it seemed the entity either didn’t hear him or didn’t care.

Damon sighed softly, clenching his fist with a faint crack.

“Fine then. You choose suffering.”

Before the creature could react, a hand burst forth from his glabella and grabbed her by the hair. Damon’s astral form slipped into the open, the chill of the world brushing against his bare soul.

No words were exchanged. He drove his knee into her face, the impact echoing through the dark air as he pulled her down to the ground.

“Jisssssss…” she hissed, her voice a distorted rasp. She crouched low on all fours, her knees bending inward in unnatural directions.

Damon’s astral form mirrored his physical appearance, radiating a cold menace.

Ghost regained control of his body once Damon left it, drawing his bow in one swift motion and loosing several arrows toward the creature.

They pierced through without resistance, passing through her body as though she were an illusion.

Damon wasn’t surprised. She was an astral entity, and only attacks that targeted the soul could harm her.

“Evangeline would have a field day with this type of creature,” he muttered.

Her power was the most effective against these beings, but she wasn’t here. No matter, Damon would improvise.

He raised his hand as his Dealer’s Hand flew toward him. He charged at the creature as she leaped into the air. Ghost followed, his form blurring as he rushed to meet her.

She reached out, claws extended to tear into Damon’s soul, but at the last second, he retreated into Ghost’s body, repossessing it. He knew fighting in his astral form for long was suicidal.

The creature was already mid-jump when Damon caught his Dealer’s Hand midair. Its cold blade gleamed faintly as he swung it upward, slicing through the creature’s neck in one clean stroke. Her body hit the ground with a heavy thud.

Damon stepped toward her hissing head and drove the blade through it, pinning it to the ground.

He exhaled a slow sigh of relief.

“It’s a good thing my Dealer’s Hand can interfere with souls… I just wanted you to become visible.”

Damon was, after all, a merchant of blood and a dealer in death.

He sighed again, feeling his soul slowly regain warmth within the safety of a physical vessel.

Lifting his hand, he recalled the Dealer’s Hand, and it flew obediently back to him.

“I’ve got to be more careful… these creatures aren’t simple.”

Damon continued his journey. His body melted into shadow, his small, inky form gliding across the ground as laughter, cries, and screams echoed from all around.

This place was filled with twisted desires. Each entity he encountered was different, chaotic, yet they all shared one trait. They were dangerous.

Hours passed as Damon searched through the dark, getting lost a few times and avoiding creatures whose presence pressed like poison against his senses.

He had come across floating ghostly faces singing an ancient ode. The haunting melody had trapped him for hours before he broke free. It was dangerous, but not the worst encounter.

He’d once found himself at a picnic with a little girl. She had served him food. It was delicious, and he had laughed with her, enjoying every moment. He thought he’d known that girl his whole life or so he believed until he realized the truth.

He was chewing on rotting flesh. The girl’s form shifted, revealing a grotesque one-eyed creature.

Damon had driven his blade through her eye to escape that horror. Even so, he had become increasingly vulnerable.

He learned two things. First, he was lucky. Even without his crown and mastery, as well as his resistance to mind-based attacks, he was managing.

Or maybe it wasn’t luck. Some faint remnant of his crown and mastery still lingered, influencing his soul even in Ghost’s body. That was why he’d survived the traps so far.

But soon, Damon realized something terrifying.

He couldn’t recover his mana.

Normally, after using mana, one could passively regenerate it or draw from the ambient energy in the air. Potions, crystals, or mana cores could all restore it as well.

But Damon couldn’t do even the most basic, he couldn’t absorb the ambient mana, no matter how hard he tried.

’Why is this happening…?’

He had a few theories. Maybe it was because this wasn’t his body, but that seemed unlikely. He had possessed Manata, the demon heir, before killing him, and he’d still been able to absorb mana then.

So what was the problem? Was this another effect of being imprisoned here in Eidolon?

“I have to get rid of these chains…” he muttered.

Damon had made progress. At last, he was certain he’d found the mechanism that locked his power away.

He’d reached the center of the Garden of Hunger.

What lay before him was unlike the rest of the grotesque realm. It wasn’t monstrous or twisted. A wide, tranquil lake spread before him, calm beneath the void sky.

The water reflected the black heavens above, still and untouched by wind. Even the cries from the rest of the garden seemed distant here.

At the lake’s center stood a massive tree. Its leaves were blood red, and its golden trunk shone faintly in the darkness.

Damon stopped at the edge of the water, narrowing his eyes. Beneath the tree, a woman sat reading a book. Her golden hair shimmered faintly, her presence serene.

When she lifted her head, her blue eyes met his.

She smiled, warm and gentle, like a summer day.

“Sweetheart, what is it? Why are you staring at me like that?”

She extended her hand toward him.

“Come… tell me what’s bothering you.”

Damon froze. His voice broke as he whispered.

“Mom…”