My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Damon’s whole life had been one long, painful journey. Crawling in a pool of his own blood just to stay alive was nothing new to him. It had happened far too many times, and each time, he had gritted his teeth, refusing to die. He lived just so his sister could have a chance.

But this time was different.

As he dragged himself through his own blood toward the fallen axe, there was no thought of survival—only the overwhelming desire to kill the war troll. Every inch of his broken body ached for nothing else.

The troll thundered blindly, its massive feet crushing the earth, sniffing at the air. Blood dripped from its ruined eye socket, pooling around its nose. It paused, flaring its nostrils, snot and blood mixing as it searched for him. Its ears twitched, listening intently for the human’s movements. Surely, the human had reached his limit by now.

It smiled, its tusks glistening.

“Human… will eat you. Rip you to pieces… crush with jaw…”

Damon took a slow, silent breath. The troll turned its head slightly, catching his scent in the air.

“Got human…” it rumbled, before leaping toward him, the ground shaking beneath its massive weight.

Damon forced his broken body to move. He rolled at the last second, his shadow-wreathed armor writhing around him as he crashed against a boulder, fresh blood smearing across its surface. His breath was weak, his vision blurring.

Lying there, his eyes drifted upward, toward the night sky. The stars shimmered, constellations burning brightly in the heavens. The twin moons hung above him, one of them was called Luna. A name shared by the an unknown and unworshiped moon goddess—A dear friend of the goddess of doom.

But to Damon, that name meant something else.

“Luna…” he whispered, his lips barely moving.

His sister’s name.

His shadow twisted erratically around him—a warning. His energy was nearly depleted.

“Goodbye, Luna…”

That was his final whisper into the night.

The war troll caught the faint murmur, its ears twitching at the sound. But Damon had expected that. As the monster barreled toward him, fist raised to crush him into the dirt, he closed his eyes—

And sacrificed his stats.

A flood of mana poured into his shadow, igniting them like an infernal blaze.

Agony.

The pain was beyond description, searing through every nerve in his body. It was like being burned alive ten times over. His mind screamed, his body convulsed, but he held on. Black flames erupted from his hands, consuming the war troll in an all-devouring inferno.

The beast howled in agony, its flesh blistering and peeling away. It tried to regenerate, but the fire scorched both its body and soul, severing its ability to heal.

Damon forced himself upright, his eyes burning with shadowed fire. He barely registered the system notification flashing in his mind.

[Mastery: Pain Resistance +3]

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

All that mattered was the troll’s death.

“Let’s burn… together…”

He lunged, grabbing onto its neck as the beast thrashed violently. Flames engulfed them both, the immolating heat clashing with freezing darkness. The war troll tried to shake him off, but Damon clung tighter, his grip unyielding. His body was breaking apart, his mana and shadow draining at a terrifying rate.

If he kept using Ashborn… he would die.

But that didn’t matter.

“Die… DIE… LET’S ALL DIE TOGETHER!”

His voice was a maddened roar, echoing through the night like the shriek of a vengeful specter.

The troll crashed into trees, smashing through the ground, its charred flesh cracking and splitting. Its muscles were exposed, its remaining eye burnt to nothing. It finally collapsed, its body twitching as it struggled to regenerate. Its breath came in weak, rasping gasps.

Damon lay motionless on the ground. Blood and shadow coated his broken body. His vision darkened.

Then—he coughed.

Consciousness returned in a slow, agonizing wave. He forced himself to move, staggering toward the massive troll’s axe. His fingers barely curled around the handle before his strength failed him, sending him back to the ground.

And then, a whisper.

Not from the system.

Something else.

Something far more ancient.

[Merchant in blood… Dealer in death… Your life is drenched in carnage. Your defiance has reached the heavens. Your resentment had been heard by the Unknown God.]

[You have awakened the unique class: Death Dealer.]

[Class skill Dealers Hand: Give back life’s cruel hand ….with death.]

[Your fable begins.]

The voice faded, and with it, a rush of power surged through his broken body. System notifications flared before his exhausted eyes.

[Rank Up… Class: Death Dealer.]

[Class Skill: Dealer’s Hand unlocked.]

[Class stat distribution applied.]

[HP +200]

[Mana +4000]

[Strength +700]

[Agility +600]

[Speed +1000]

[Endurance +500]

[You are now known to the world. The Unseen Sovereign watches you, Death Dealer.]

Damon didn’t have time to process it. The moment his HP replenished, strength flooded his body.

His exhaustion vanished.

His vision sharpened.

He felt like he was about to explode with power.

But there was only one thing he wanted.

He lifted his gaze toward the dying war troll.

And smiled.

Damon reached for the massive battle axe, gripping it with a single hand despite his battered body. The weight felt insignificant in his grasp as he dragged it across the blood-soaked ground, the grinding noise echoing through the battlefield. The war troll, broken and burned beyond recognition, could hear death approaching but lacked the strength to resist. Damon limped forward, his body trembling, his eyelids heavy as if the weight of the world pressed down on him.

The troll slowly lifted its ruined head, its charred face contorted in pain. Its tusks, once a symbol of might, were cracked and blackened. Yet, instead of fear, there was a calm acceptance in its movements. It raised its neck, offering itself to fate.

“Goddess… no care about ugly trolls… Tusk pray. Unknown god… take my soul…”

A single tear slipped down its ruined face, vanishing into the mess of blood and burnt flesh. Damon stopped in front of it, his grip tightening on the axe. The goddess of doom had forsaken this creature race. It sought peace, not salvation. He could grant it that.

Lifting the axe high, its blade gleaming beneath the moonlight, he met the troll’s gaze one final time.

“I offer your soul to the Unknown God.”

The troll smiled—an eerie, almost grateful expression—as its head was severed in a single, clean stroke. Blood erupted from the stump, a crimson geyser marking the end of its suffering.

[You have slain Tusk the War Troll.]

[You have leveled up.]

[You have gained 70 attribute points.]

[You have awakened the skill: Shadow Movement.]

Damon exhaled slowly, glancing at his shadow as it twisted unnaturally. The darkness responded to his call, creeping toward the fallen troll’s corpse, consuming it whole.

[You have gained 10 attribute points.]

[You have acquired the skill: Bloodletting.]

Kneeling, Damon tilted his head back, staring at the twin moons above. His body screamed in agony, but he had no time to rest. His friends—if they were still alive—might need him. He forced himself to his feet, staggering toward their last known position.

Then, laughter.

Low, cruel, and echoing from the darkness of the forest. Something else lurked nearby, watching. Amused.

Damon halted, his grip tightening around the axe as black flames erupted from his palm, darkening the night with the cold fire of Ashborn. His voice was razor-sharp, laced with exhaustion but unwavering.

“If you don’t want to burn… I suggest you leave.”

Silence followed. A long pause, as if the creature was weighing its options. Then, its presence faded, retreating into the darkness.

Damon exhaled, lowering his hand. Turning away, he gathered what remained of his weapons, adjusting the massive axe on his shoulder. His shadow armor flickered, unraveling to reveal his broken body and the tattered remains of his combat uniform beneath.

With slow, pained steps, he pressed forward.