My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 940: Chapter 941: The Ornament

She shook her head.

“I wouldn’t go that far. They were more like biological copies. Some monsters can reproduce that way. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then why did you do it?”

She smiled faintly.

“Who knows? I was probably just lonely.”

Wendy stood, brushing sand and bone dust from her clothes. The wind caught her hair again, and for a moment she looked less like a monster and more like something fragile.

“I won’t try to force myself on you again,” she said. “After that… I think we’re even.”

She hesitated.

“I forgive you.”

Damon frowned.

“You forgive me? I don’t understand.”

She looked down at him and shook her head.

“Yeah. I figured you wouldn’t. You’re too immature to understand forgiveness. It’s hard to let go. It’s difficult to forgive. It’s easy to hate. Easy to want revenge. Even if I got everything I wanted, I wouldn’t be happy. I’m setting myself free.”

“Forgiveness…” Damon muttered.

The word felt foreign in his mouth.

“You should learn to let go too,” she said softly.

He pushed himself upright, fingers digging into his hair.

“Doesn’t it hurt? Don’t you want revenge? To hurt me back? To make me pay?”

“Not anymore,” Wendy replied. “I still think you’ll get your just deserts. But it won’t be from me. Damon… an eye for an eye is a never-ending cycle. I would rather create something beautiful.”

“Beauty is ephemeral,” Damon said quietly.

“Because we keep destroying it,” Wendy answered.

For a moment the two of them simply stared at each other.

Then Damon laughed.

A sharp, disbelieving sound.

“When did you suddenly become so wise?”

“I’ve always been,” she said. “You just never noticed. I’ve learned a lot. And I hope to learn more.”

She gave him a long look.

“So take care of me in the coming years, okay?”

Damon lay back abruptly on the massive skull, staring up at the darkening sky.

He did not understand her.

He thought he did. He had reduced her to something simple. Predictable. But now she spoke like this, and it unsettled him.

He hated when forgiveness was brought up.

It insulted his way of life. His philosophy.

If forgiveness was so noble, what about the village he had slaughtered down to the last man, woman, and child over a grudge that had lasted nearly a decade?

What about them?

What about Xander’s brother, whom he had killed even after seeing regret in the man’s eyes?

What about everyone in Quickhand who had wronged him and paid with their lives?

What about Xander himself, still chasing revenge?

Forgiveness was for saints.

And Damon was not one.

Now he finally understood why Wendy had been given her class. Her skills. At her core she was pure in a way he could never be.

If she had not possessed those abilities, she would have died by his hand long ago.

Xander Ravenscroft was now engaged. Soon he would marry. Soon he would have a child.

Damon’s eyes darkened.

He would take that child for eighteen years.

“Ah… this is ridiculous,” he muttered. “I can’t be shaken by her.”

If he did not know better, he would think this was some elaborate scheme.

But he did know better.

Just as he lay there wrestling with his thoughts, he felt it.

A shadow moving across the sea.

He pushed himself upright.

Far on the horizon, something cut through the black water. A large white sail rose and fell with the buoyancy of the waves. The mast stood tall, and faint magical runes shimmered along the hull, glowing softly against the darkness.

From the top, flags fluttered.

Figures moved across its deck.

The ship.

He was not the only one who saw it.

Members of the expedition rose from where they had been resting, moving toward the shore. Relief flickered across exhausted faces. Some clenched their fists. Others exhaled shakily.

They would have cheered.

If they were not still afraid of what might hear them.

They had survived a month in the Evil Forest. They had endured horrors most would never speak of.

Damon rose to his feet slowly, brushing bone dust from his coat.

The ship drew closer.

He lifted his chin, staring at it with quiet intensity.

“I survived the Evil Forest.”

**********

Single file, they began to make their way up the ship’s narrow boarding plank, boots thudding softly against aged wood. The sea wind tugged at cloaks and hair, carrying the stench of salt and rot from the shore behind them.

As he stepped forward with the others, something shimmered in the sand off to the side.

He slowed.

No one was watching.

He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing.

Half buried in the dark grains lay a golden ornament. At its center was a ruby gem shaped like an open eye, polished and gleaming as if time itself had refused to touch it. Ancient runes circled its frame, thin and precise, untouched by corrosion. It did not belong on a beach littered with bones.

Something like that would fetch a high price.

Especially if word spread that it came from the Evil Forest.

He glanced toward the others. Their backs were turned, attention fixed on the ship.

Slowly, almost unconsciously, he stepped out of line and crouched. His fingers hovered inches above the ornament.

You must not take from the forest.

Or the forest will follow you.

His jaw tightened.

He withdrew his hand as if burned.

Without another look, he stood and returned to the line, boots grinding the sand as he followed the others toward the ship.

When he finally stepped onto the deck, he reached into the satchel at his side for his waterskin. His fingers brushed against something cold.

Metal.

He frowned and looked inside.

The same golden ornament rested at the bottom of his bag.

His breath stilled.

The ruby eye stared back at him.

For a long moment he did not move. Then, very carefully, he lowered the flap and closed the bag.

If it was there… then it must be fate.

That was the only explanation he allowed himself.

He straightened and walked deeper onto the ship, his pace calm, measured, as though nothing had happened.

From the side of the deck, Lana watched him approach. She narrowed her eyes slightly.

“Hey, Set, are you alright? You have sand in your grasp.”

Her smile was small but curious.

He paused and glanced down.

Sand clung to his palm.

His brow furrowed.

He did not remember touching the sand.

“Hm.”

He brushed it off slowly, grains scattering across the deck.

“Haha, we are on a beach. No surprise there. Thanks for the heads up. We would not want to bring anything cursed onto the ship.”

Lana gave a soft laugh and returned to her duties.

Set moved toward the rank and file, merging with the others as ropes were cast off and sails unfurled.

Inside his satchel, the golden ornament pulsed faintly.

Beneath the deck.

Beneath the sea.

Something watched as the ship set sail.