My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 823: Chapter 824: Old Habits Die Hard

“Wait… wait… why haven’t I discovered that since then?” Damon asked, looking down at the toddler god who surprisingly actually had knowledge of his attribute.

’I’m never going to underestimate gods again.’ He thought with a wistful expression.

Lazarak shrugged with annoyance. His ego was stroked by Damon, and he was pleased his knowledge was being useful.

He was really starting to get depressed with how knowledgeable Damon was about so many things he didn’t get a chance to shine.

“It’s not my fault you’re a bum. You got handed all that and you’ve been using a battle axe to cut vegetables.”

He had to flex as hard as he could while he had the chance.

Damon gritted his teeth.

“It’s more complicated than that. Humans have a lot of organs in their bodies. Some work without us even knowing how they work, just that they do.”

Lazarak rolled his eyes, finally having gained an advantage over Damon and his high and mighty ego.

“Don’t try to sound smart with me.”

Damon sighed, shaking his head as beads of sweat rolled down his face.

Lyn and Sithara glanced at each other but said nothing. It was better to save their strength.

Lazarak glanced at Damon with a serious expression.

“Besides, it’s not like you could have used the attribute even if you wanted to. There is a fundamental clash between you and your own attribute.”

Damon frowned at Lazarak’s sudden seriousness.

“What are you talking about?”

Lazarak halted his footsteps, dust rising slightly as he pointed at Damon.

“You’re the weak link to your own power. The Umbral attribute can modify souls beyond just controlling shadows, but creating, or rather rewriting, is where it excels.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head.

“At your core you are a drifter. You don’t really think you belong anywhere, so you never put down roots.”

Lazarak raised his head slightly. The hot sun seemed to be devoured by the darkness of his robes.

“Your refusal to settle, rule, or define space has limited you.”

Damon’s philosophy didn’t align with that. He believed strength came from suffering and that people were born to die. Defiance was better than a life of surrender.

How could he put down roots when everything was temporary. That was why he took what he wanted, never building anything real with people or places.

“That’s your problem,” Lazarak said, his deep dark eyes fixed on Damon. “You take. You don’t build. And that is restraining your power.”

Damon sighed, wiping sweat from his brow.

“So what am I supposed to build? I can’t do that. My first class was Death Dealer, a merchant in blood and a dealer in death. I can’t change who I am at the drop of a hat.”

He bit his lip.

“My second class was Death Seeker. Everything I survived and endured, my wish at its core was self destructive. My third class is Usurper. That symbolizes my desire to take and give nothing.”

He scoffed, more annoyed than anything.

“For now I can work on interacting with souls and modifying them. I still have a few shades. Let’s see what comes of it. As for creating a world of shadows with my attribute, that sounds busted and all, but I doubt I’ll be able to create anything substantial with my limited power.”

There was no need to rush things. Even Lilith Astranova didn’t fully understand her attribute and stigmata. The most she used were a few spells and class skills.

The one that left the deepest impression on him was the ability she used to create a space between her palm and eyeballs so she could spy on him.

Lazarak gazed into the distance.

“Don’t you think you were given such a wondrous gift for a reason. You hold the power of death and creation in your hands.”

“It was given to me for a reason,” Damon replied. “Though I highly doubt it was benevolent.”

This was a boon from the Unknown God. How could it be all good when the god who gave it was not?

Just as Lazarak was about to speak, a shadow came darting back to Damon’s feet. Its inky form reattached itself to him and began to gesture.

Damon nodded, then smiled thinly.

’Ah, I see. How interesting. That should do.’

He turned to Lyn and Sithara, their clothes soaked through, faces flushed red from the heat.

“Good news, guys. I found your target, and you’re lucky. It should do.”

Damon raised his hand and pointed toward the distance.

“You’re going to follow my shadow and fight something over those dunes.”

He pointed at dunes so far away Sithara could barely see them. The heat distorted the distance.

Though they were close to their first class advancement and already at the peak of ordinary humans, the distance still looked overwhelming.

Damon, on the other hand, had no such problem. He could see it clearly. He could accurately shoot the wings off a flying dragonfly from that range without killing it.

He reached into his shadow storage and pulled out several potions.

“Healing and recovery potions. Win and you live. Fail, and Lazarak and I will be too far away to help you.”

That was a lie. At this range, Damon and Lazarak could reach them instantly, but neither said anything.

Lazarak frowned and raised his hand, forming armor of darkness around the children.

“One lethal hit. That’s all this armor can block.”

The two children nodded, their expressions resolute.

Damon hesitated for a fraction of a second, then tossed them two daggers.

“For close range combat. A magic user who gets pulled into melee is a dead one. Avoid that at all cost.”

After several more harsh instructions and mixed signals, Damon and Lazarak watched the children march toward their possible deaths, following the shadow across the dunes.

Matia watched them from behind silently.

“Is this what having children is like, Damon.” Lazarak asked.

Damon shook his head.

“I’ll never know. I don’t intend to have any.”

Lazarak glanced at him.

“It’s okay to show you care. No one’s going to think you’re weak.”

Damon closed his eyes.

“Old habits die hard.”