My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Damon smiled at the creatures lurking beneath the water—eyes glinting, their distorted silhouettes already rising toward the surface. They had noticed the group.

What else could he do? He’d long since given up on menacing expressions. It was always the same twisted circle.

Monsters tried to kill them. They fought back, won—or fled. And when they fled, they carried more mental scars than physical ones.

He turned his gaze to Matia.

“Can you freeze this body of water?”

He crouched beside the edge, watching the ripples spiral out into the darkness.

“It’s not as fast or as vast the water in the underground area.”

Matia frowned. One thing interesting about this girl—she never questioned Damon.

She simply nodded.

“I can with some support… but these monsters can easily shatter any ice I create and attack us…”

Damon nodded, his thin smile unchanged.

“That’s fine. As long as we have a solid surface to stand on…”

He gestured toward the side walls—stone and decay-slicked metal lining the corridor’s edges.

“If you don’t mind, freeze that part too. Create something we can stand on… just incase.”

Xander crossed his arms, frowning.

“Hmm. Are you planning for us to run across?”

Damon tilted his head, lips curling.

“Is it that obvious?”

Sylvia activated her skill, summoning the invisible journey book that floated in front of her—its cover serene divine yet demonic.

She asked a question, and a few seconds later, blood burst from her eyes, nose, and ears.

Her expression didn’t even flinch. She had grown used to the consequences of asking.

Calmly, she pulled a handkerchief from her bosom and dabbed the blood away with practiced grace.

The others said nothing. For better or worse, they had grown used to Sylvia’s foul skill. It was one of the reasons they were still alive after all.

Her ability to divine the unseen had saved them time and time again.

“The creatures inside are small… on the weaker side,” she rasped, voice hoarse and papery.

Leona raised an eyebrow.

“How weak is ‘on the weaker side’? I see something in there that looks like it’s in the third class advancement…”

Sylvia gave a slow, hollow nod.

Evangeline groaned, dragging a hand across her face.

They really needed to see a mental health quartermaster. Did her party really just forget that a third-class monster could level a small town?

A rank two master could slaughter villages. These monsters were no joke.

And yet… she couldn’t disagree with them.

The party was still in the first class, but they had slain monsters at the second.

They hadn’t defeated anything in the third class yet—but they had survived close encounters.

Fleeing had become second nature. They had even escaped brushes with things far worse than third class. Some of those entities felt downright eldritch—some of them were eldritch.

Evangeline clenched her fist.

“We just need to run fast enough to get to the other side… seems easy enough…”

Leona slapped a palm to her face.

“Famous last words… why do I feel like Damon’s getting crazier and we’re about to die?”

Damon’s eyes flicked sideways, lingering on the reflection in the water. A whisper curled in his ear like breath.

‘It’s not like that’s all of my plan…’

He reached into the shadows beside him—into the loose space where light refused to linger—and pulled out several vials filled with strange, shimmering liquids. Potions, dangerous —or cursed—by the Beldam.

“We never got around to figuring out what these do,” he said, almost casually. “So I say… dump them into the water and let the creatures find out.”

He turned to Leona.

“You. Draw runes with the Name of Lightning.”

“I know,” Leona interrupted, flipping her hair back. “I was paying attention when Valarie was teaching us.”

Matia’s gaze flicked to Leona, suddenly cold.

Leona drew back, frowning.

“What? What did I do? Why are you glaring at me?”

Matia paused—clearly caught off guard—then lowered her head slightly.

“Sorry about that… I…” she glanced at Damon, voice quieter now. “Should I create runes with the Name of Ice?”

Damon nodded. Truthfully, he appreciated that Leona hadn’t needed an explanation. That was growth.

Though Matia’s sudden hostility was… unexpected.

“Alright,” Damon said, rising to his feet, brushing dust off his gloves. “Everyone, get ready.”

The others nodded as Matia and Leona began searching for suitable materials to inscribe the runes on.

They settled on smooth, flat rocks scattered near the corridor’s edge.

Damon sat down on a broken stone bench, pulling out a few rations. He shared them without a word while the two women worked.

They failed more often than they succeeded. Several attempts fizzled or cracked under the wrong pressure. But after an hour or two, they had created several stones, each etched with a basic rune—lightning and ice.

Then he threw vials of unknown potions into the water.

He didn’t wait to observe the effects; he just had a feeling they would be bad.

Damon passed the lightning-inscribed stones around.

No instructions were needed.

They knew what to do.

He held his own rune stone, eyes narrowed. The others mirrored him, arms tense and ready.

Leona’s body began to glow—electricity snaking across her limbs, arcing between her fingers.

“Now—”

Damon flung his stone into the water. The others followed suit without hesitation.

The runes hit the surface with a splash, sinking in tandem.

The moment they began to descend, Leona unleashed a flash—a white bolt of lightning erupted from her palms, illuminating the drowned corridor with a searing wave of light.

The runes responded instantly—glowing bright, pulsing like lightning rods. The current snapped to them and spread, diffusing through the water. A violent hum filled the corridor.

Under the surface, monsters twitched—stunned—rippled silhouettes convulsing.

Water exploded upward as the creatures thrashed.

At the same time, Matia raised her hand, summoning spears of jagged ice and launching them. Each one impaled the stones she had marked with the Name of Ice, forcing their magic deeper into the currents.

The water began to freeze from the edges inward—but Matia wasn’t done.

From behind her back, she drew the main form of her Ascendant Weapon.

It slithered out like smoke, formless, then coalesced into a crystalline spear. With a silent breath, she hurled it.

It shot into the center of the corridor—crashing into the heart of the chaotic waters. The air screamed with a sonic boom as the spear embedded itself, Matia staggering back, face pale from the mana drain.

The effect was immediate.

The spear became the anchor, and ice spread from it like wildfire. In seconds, the drowned corridor became a frozen graveyard.

Massive monsters trapped in the water, shocked by Leona’s lightning—now locked in place beneath solid ice.

But it wouldn’t last.

“Now—run for the other side!” Damon shouted, drawing his sword.

He dashed forward, boots hammering the slick surface.

The party followed without hesitation—their combined footsteps thundering across the ice.

Behind them, the frozen water groaned.

Cracks splintered beneath their heels as the monsters stirred—struggling to break free.

Prey were in sight.

And the hunt had begun.