My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Damon didn’t bother with any long morale-building speeches… their conditions had changed.

The Beldam’s house was a death trap—but amid the danger, they had gained a fortuitous encounter.

Now they were enjoying the spoils. Preparations were done for their next travel.

They had better weapons, upgraded gear, food…

Well, except Damon. He was still lugging around the wyvern’s fangs, the giant axe, and his old bow and arrows.

The previous lord of Lysithara apparently hadn’t needed any weapons with his armor, but Damon wasn’t that lucky. Wearing Pale Crown wasn’t enough. He needed a weapon.

“This would be more convenient if I had my dealer’s hand…” he muttered.

Too bad the skill rejected every weapon he tried to link to it.

He took a deep breath, gazing at the pale white sphere in his hand.

It wasn’t just a ball—it was a mana core. To be precise…

A 15cm wide core from the Beldam.

A rank four monster.

Therefore, this was a rank four core.

Its market value? Easily several hundred million zeni. And he was holding it casually in his hand like it wasn’t enough to buy half a small city.

It pulsed with dim light, its surface veined with pale runes.

“This… I could buy my sister and I a new life with this,” he whispered.

But he shook his head. He couldn’t sell it now—not here, not yet.

More importantly, low-level monsters would chase them just for a chance to consume it and grow stronger.

And it wasn’t just monsters who could gain power from a mana core—humans could too.

Those who had reached their first class advancement could absorb it, refining their bodies and mana circuits. Laying the foundation for their second class advancement.

He held it with both hands. After the Beldam burned to ash, this was all that remained.

“If she left a corpse, I could’ve devoured that… maybe gain some attribute points, maybe even a skill…”

He frowned. No—he couldn’t get greedy. He had already gotten too much from the ordeal.

The voices were growing louder—the whispering. Faint, eerie. The Beldam’s power was fading.

‘It won’t be long before this whole place comes down…’

He turned to the others.

“Okay, who gets to use the mana core?”

Xander raised a brow, lounging in the awakened shell version of the Bound Colossus.

A minimalist armor light fabric layered with small heart-guard and shoulder plates.

“Are you still bragging about that?” he asked, deadpan.

Damon gave him a flat stare.

“I don’t see you slaying a rank four monster in one strike. Even the legendary Seras Blade hadn’t achieved something that phenomenal on her first advancement.”

Leona rolled her eyes.

“So you are bragging.”

He nodded with a smirk.

“A little, yes. But I was actually asking—which one of us should refine their body with this core?”

Evangeline exhaled slowly, brushing a few strands of golden hair behind her ear.

“You made the kill. Use the core.”

Sylvia nodded. “That’s how it is in most parties.”

Damon sighed. That was true. But…

“I want to,” he admitted. “However, it would be unwise—especially where we are. The best option is empowering the one with the most utility.”

Matia stepped forward, having shed the Sovereign Mantle form of Shattered Ice.

Her figure now revealed, black hair braided down her back. Her wings, hidden beneath the light armor plates that shimmered with frost.

“Isn’t that you?” she asked. “You can see far ahead. Your shadow can scout. Your information is crucial.”

Leona nodded, the sparks from her full Stormwake armor giving her the look of a walking thunderstorm.

“You’re also the strongest among us.”

Sylvia silently agreed, holding a thick tome. Her grey eyes glanced at him beneath white bangs.

“And a sound strategist.”

Evangeline snorted. “You mean scheming and conniving…”

Damon brushed his hair aside, the cold ash of the Pale Crown brushing his fingertips.

He couldn’t tell them, those abilities of his were no longer safe to use.

“You guys are so sweet. You shouldn’t have. You’ll make me blush… You guys suck too, might I add.”

Matia turned to the others.

“I almost thought he’d let it go…”

Leona didn’t even flinch.

“I had no doubt he’d be rude.”

Damon raised the core in one hand, tossing it lazily through the air—then flicked it toward Evangeline.

“While you all make strong arguments… the most useful here is Evangeline. Her Purge skill gives us all an edge.”

He closed his eyes, as if visualizing something rotting, vile, and cursed.

“Lysithara is a city consumed by rot and corruption—like most ancient ruins. This isn’t some low-level dungeon. We’re walking into hell.”

He clenched his fist.

“We could encounter relics, monsters, or fragments of beings that can taint us… her power is the only safety net. After all, when I was mentally contaminated… I would’ve died if not for her.”

Evangeline looked at him, unsure. “But this is your kill…”

He nodded. “I know. This is my thanks for saving my life.”

Xander snapped his fingers. “That’s right! We did save him. Why did we forget that…?”

Evangeline sighed, voice low.

“Because we went through three days of him rubbing his victory in our faces…”

Leona smiled dryly.

“The bastard made me wish I’d let the Beldam eat me. Anything to avoid another day of that smug grin.”

Damon couldn’t help but smirk. They’d been through hell together.

This was his way of easing the mood—his way of leading. As party leader, it was his job to keep morale high… to make them believe hope still existed, even if it didn’t.

‘I can’t make them face their fears all the time… sometimes, I have to act like those fears don’t exist.’

He clapped his hands.

“Alright, people. Get some sleep. We leave at first light tomorrow. Might be the last night you sleep for a week or two—depending on how long it takes us to cross the forest, the Silent Marsh, and whatever hell we meet in between.”

Matia stretched out, lying on a rug.

“I thought you said it was close.”

Damon smiled—busted.

“Distance is all in your head. The journey of a thousand miles isn’t that far…”

“This is no time for a figure of speech…”

He smiled coldly.

“It’s not. It’s literally a thousand miles away.”

Evangeline twitched. Her eye, her brow, her soul.

“A thousand miles… in hell… before we even reach Lysithara.”

“This bastard…”