My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Evangeline had no idea what was happening. In all the chaos, the entire party had been doing their best—but out of nowhere, the sea of shades doubled in number. It was almost as if the abominable wraiths had become more aggressive than before.

She felt a murderous intent so thick it nearly suffocated her.

All she could do was brace herself, preparing to go all out.

Her skill—Purge—flared to life as she readied to destroy as many of them as she could.

But to her surprise, the murderous intent wasn’t aimed at her… or anyone in her party.

No. The shades dove downward—towards the water—with claws bared, every movement screaming with a savage desire to rip through anything in their path.

Leona stumbled, lethargic from how low her mana had gotten.

“Xander, look out…” Her voice was barely audible over the din of battle echoing through the slanted wreckage.

Xander turned—his eyes widened, his face paling at the sight of so many shades. But then… they passed him harmlessly, rushing by with a chilling wind trailing behind them.

A cold breath on his neck. But not a single scratch.

“Come on, let’s go… now!”

From the very top of the narrow chamber, Damon’s voice cut through, calling out as he waved a hand to them.

Xander’s gaze dropped to the water, where the massive creature had begun to churn and swell again, preparing to release another devastating stream.

But then—its attention shifted. It saw the shades barreling toward it and hesitated.

Xander acted. He amplified his gravity magic—or rather, reduced it.

His body lifted, rising fast, floating up through the crumbling chamber. As he reached Leona and Matia, he extended a blood-streaked hand.

They grabbed on instantly, and with a grunt of effort, he pulled them up with him.

Blood dripped from his armor. His jaw was clenched tight. His head spun slightly from blood loss, but he was otherwise unbroken.

His skill—The Vowl—was just that strong. He could endure most physical attacks without permanent damage.

As long as they were physical… he wouldn’t break—unless his will did. And so long as his will remained intact… he could still fight.

‘I can still fight… I can still fight…’

His eyes locked onto Damon, who was already climbing higher, scaling twisted beams like a shadow.

They had a strange friendship… one they’d both deny until death took them. Their ideals were night and day—but Xander had been wrong about Damon.

‘He says he has no pride, no honor…’

Xander floated upward, fist clenched, zero gravity guiding him in controlled movement.

‘Then why do you hold to your word like it’s sacred…? Why does your pride scream louder than anyone else’s…? I can’t hate you for that… I can’t…’

Despite how different Damon seemed, Xander could see it now—he was someone who bore an unshakeable principle in his heart.

‘He claims to pride himself on having no pride… Isn’t that the most prideful thing of all?’

The irony was lost on no one—least of all Xander.

But still… Damon pushed forward. Against all odds. Against reason.

How could Xander not respect that? How could he not admire such perseverance?

Damon reached out from a ledge, extending his hand just as a shade blew past him like smoke.

Xander met his gaze and understood. With one final heave, he tossed Leona upward.

She kicked off the wall and snatched Damon’s hand, pulled to safety.

Matia gave Xander a single nod. Nothing needed to be said.

He launched her next, and Damon caught her as well, pulling her in with little effort.

Xander clicked his tongue.

‘I’m totally not jealous of his popularity with the ladies…’

With a flick of his wrist, Damon fired his omnidirectional gear—thin wires latching onto Xander’s armor and yanking him upward.

“What’s going on…” Evangeline asked, turning to Sylvia for answers.

The white-haired elf looked back with an unreadable expression and shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

She glanced sideways at Damon, her smile razor-thin.

“Any theories, Damon?”

Damon didn’t need to be a seer to know she’d figured it out—that somehow, he’d taken control of the shades.

He met her gaze with a frown.

“Beats me. You’re the seer. You tell me.”

She scoffed, clearly displeased, but unwilling to speak further. She didn’t have his full trust yet. That was fine.

She would earn it… eventually.

But Damon had no time for her games—not now. Not with his mind fraying under the weight of tethered souls.

The shades he had taken command of were caught in a brutal war—fighting above against wild, untamed shades, and below against the abominable creatures.

And they were losing.

Each time one of his controlled shades fell, Damon felt it—a tether breaking. A beacon snuffed out. Only darkness remained.

“Come on. We need to use the chaos to get out of here.”

Sylvia was already healing Xander, though she didn’t really need to. He was stable.

“Xander, give us a boost here…”

Xander placed his hands on them, reducing their weight one by one.

“I don’t have infinite mana. We’ve gotta be smart.”

Damon raised his hand and began climbing, leaping upward from handhold to handhold.

“Stay close. Kill everything that’s not us.”

That was the only instruction he could give. Only he could tell which shades were allies in the chaotic maelstrom of ghosts around them.

Most of the shades were still hostile.

He couldn’t waste any more shadow energy controlling the rest.

To those still bound to his will—he gave one final command:

‘Protect us… with your lives.’

Whether or not these lost phantoms truly lived, he didn’t know. But he prayed they understood.

Far below, his allies were being cut down. But they’d been enough of a distraction—to buy the party time.

Their climb continued, the battlefield a drifting maelstrom of ghost and death.

Damon’s vision swam. He felt weaker. More drained.

The entire area was chaos. Shade against shade… then against shade again. So much noise. So much death.

And yet… something was changing.

They began to notice—some shades were shielding them.

One shade caught Evangeline before she could fall.

Another intercepted a deadly blow aimed at Sylvia.

By the time they finally reached the top…

Their minds were scarred. Their armor scratched and dented. Faces streaked with blood and exhaustion.

Damon stood at the edge of the broken chamber, glancing down into the wreckage beneath them.

He had only a few shades left.

Most were gone.

“Let’s go,” he ordered, his voice cold.

The few remaining shades drifted after him, hidden, silent, and obedient.

Their forms shadows on the walls.

He didn’t look back. Not once.