My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

This day had always been coming.

He had known that for years.

Perhaps that was why unease had followed him ever since entering the Holy City.

Years ago, a kind hunter had helped him. His philosophy had touched Damon’s damaged heart and reached the young boy who had long since lost faith in everything. That man had taught him to believe again, to understand that kindness could exist in this world without demanding anything in return.

And Damon had repaid that kindness by killing him.

The guilt, the shame, and the unbearable weight of what he had done afterward led him to seek out the hunter’s orphaned daughter. He had taken her beneath his wings, cared for her, protected her, and in many ways loved her as though she were truly his younger sister.

Yet he had built that relationship upon a lie.

The young girl had always been a spitfire, and from Damon she had learned many things.

Among them...

An eye for an eye.

Had he never interfered, perhaps she would have remained an ordinary commoner all her life. Perhaps she would have spent her years nursing old grudges, or perhaps she would have learned to let them go.

Though knowing her temperament...

Damon doubted peace would have ever suited her.

She likely would have found herself swallowed by some violent corner of the world.

Or died trying.

For years now, he had taught her everything.

His spells.

His tricks.

His instincts.

Everything he knew.

Iris had become a lethal woman because he had trained her to be one.

Damon did not turn around to face her.

It was almost laughable.

After all this time, he was still running from his past.

And now, at long last, his shame had finally caught up with him.

She wanted the truth.

Maybe today was the day he finally stopped running.

Iris stepped beside him and together they overlooked the Holy City, massive statues erected in reverence to the Goddess of Doom watching over the sacred land like silent judges.

”This place feels really ominous lately,” she whispered softly, breaking the silence between them.

”Careful what you say here,” he muttered back. ”That counts as blasphemy.”

”You don’t care much for the faith.”

”I do,” he answered quietly. ”I just don’t care for blind faith. I don’t care for rules that strip away our humanity in the name of gods while a privileged few are exalted above everyone else.”

”Isn’t that basically nobility?” she asked. ”Which you are part of.”

”Yes.”

His answer came immediately.

”I hate them too.”

He fell silent for a moment before glancing down at his own hands.

”But I can’t just kill them all and call it justice. This way of life is rooted too deeply inside people.”

Then he smiled bitterly.

”A slave does not dream of freedom.”

His voice turned colder.

”He dreams of becoming the master.”

”I don’t think that’s fair,” she said quietly. ”What about people who genuinely just want freedom?”

”Humans are small, Iris.”

He exhaled.

”We are selfish. Small-minded. Cruel.”

His eyes narrowed toward the city below.

”We do terrible things and convince ourselves we had good reasons for doing them.”

Then his voice softened.

”I understand hatred. But understanding something does not make it less true.”

Iris fell silent.

He could hear her breathing shift.

Her fingers tightening.

She was nervous.

Afraid to ask.

”Did you kill your classmates at Aether Academy?”

”Yes.”

The answer came instantly.

Without hesitation.

Without denial.

She visibly stiffened.

She had expected resistance.

Excuses.

Perhaps even a lie.

Not honesty.

”I met Lady Margan three years ago,” she said quietly.

”She spoke about her son... and about you.”

Her voice trembled slightly.

”She said you were a good man.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

”But you still killed her son.”

Her breathing became uneven.

”Then afterward... you acted like you knew nothing. You gained her trust...”

Damon stared ahead.

”And I would kill them again.”

The words sounded monstrous even to him.

For a long moment he said nothing else.

Then finally—

”My greatest regret...”

He shook his head.

”...was that I hesitated.”

A bitter smile touched his lips.

”For years I believed hesitation was my greatest failing.”

His expression darkened.

”I sympathize with Lady Margan.”

His voice lowered.

”No parent should ever have to bury their child.”

”She didn’t.”

Iris’ voice came out quieter now.

Colder.

”She never got a body.”

Her hands were clenched tightly enough that her knuckles had gone pale.

”There was no corpse.”

Her eyes lowered.

”His grave is empty.”

Damon knew that.

Of course he knew.

Everyone he killed became nourishment for the shadows.

There was never anything left behind.

He knew what came next.

This was the moment.

No more lies.

No more running.

”You know who Amon is... don’t you?”

Her whisper struck harder than any blade.

Damon felt anguish spread through his chest.

It felt like thousands of ants gnawing at his soul.

He opened his mouth.

He wanted to tell her.

He needed to tell her.

That he was Amon.

That he had killed Carmen Vale.

That the man she had spent years searching for...

Had been standing beside her all along.

But before he could force the words out.

She turned toward him.

And spoke again.

”I want to kill Amon.”

Damon froze.

The air that had been trapped inside his lungs suddenly escaped.

Relief.

A terrible, shameful relief.

”You...”

He stared at her.

”...want to kill him?”

”Yes.”

Her answer came without hesitation.

”Everyone keeps obsessing over Amon’s mysteries.”

Her eyes hardened.

”I don’t care.”

Her voice dropped lower.

”His mysteries end when I kill him.”

And then Damon understood.

It wasn’t hatred.

Not entirely.

It was fear.

Iris was terrified.

Terrified of what the truth might reveal.

All she had to do was ask.

And he would tell her everything.

He would confess.

He would admit he was the one who killed her father.

That Carmen Vale had died by his hands.

He looked at her quietly.

”Wouldn’t it be better...”

His voice was careful now.

”...to seek the truth first?”

”Screw the truth.”

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

Her breathing trembled.

”Screw justice too.”

And suddenly Damon understood everything.

She was afraid.

Afraid that truth would hurt more than vengeance ever could.

He lowered his eyes.

It’s fine.

A bitter thought crossed his mind.

I’m scared too.

Without another word.

He stepped forward and pulled the tearful young woman into his arms.

And for the first time in years...

Neither of them had the courage to say what they truly wanted to know.

In the end, he had raised her to be a coward like him.