My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Jei sucked in a small puff of air from his pipe. Even with the sun still out, the winter chill was not far away.

Leaning back against the tree, he scratched his scruffy beard, waiting patiently for prey.

“Oi, Chief… think anyone’s gonna come today?”

He glanced at the speaker—a fire moth man with a small, jittery face.

Jei sneered. “Adventurers are all about making money and forging their legend. Who else would head toward the Badlands?”

“The ruins and dungeons in this region are close to a death zone. So they’ve got some nice trinkets,” the fire moth man grinned, swinging his sword lazily.

“Hehe… and if some of them pass by here, we’ll be here to take their stuff.”

Raising his head to the trees, he called out, “Ain’t that right, boys?”

“Ahhh yeah.”

“Bring it on—hahah!”

Came the responses of several men hidden high among the branches.

The chief smoked his pipe. Jei was quite satisfied with the growth of his little bandit crew. As former adventurers, they’d needed a way to make ends meet. These were trying times after all—everyone was just trying to survive.

“We better be careful before the Brightwater Knights come sniffing around again…”

That name brought a flicker of fear—but laughter soon followed.

“Don’t worry, Chief. This place is disputed territory. The Brightwater Knights hate the Astranova’s. And with the Kingdom of Anarchy just across the other side, and the Path of Kings passing right through, they don’t have time for small fry like us.”

Jei chuckled. “Then let’s make some money, boys. The ladies are already missing us.”

But as the conversation continued, the low toll of bells echoed in the distance—one of the traps had been sprung.

“Take your places, boys…”

—

Deep in the forest, Sylvia lifted her boot off a thin wire.

“Interesting… I’ve never seen an alarm trap in person before. Do bandits normally set this up?”

Damon sighed with exasperation. “If you knew it was an alarm, why did you trigger it?”

She smiled playfully. “I was curious, is all. Besides, we can ask them for directions. I’m sure they won’t say no to a nice elven beauty like me.”

Damon sighed. She was teasing him again.

“Don’t you think so, Damon? Am I not beautiful?”

He glanced at the others, who clearly didn’t want to get involved.

“Yes, Sylvia. You’re very beautiful.”

She walked closer, her lips curling with mischief.

“Then would you say I’m the most beautiful woman you know?”

Damon just pointed ahead. “The bandits are amassing over there. Bet they think they’re clever, using such low-tier tactics…”

Sylvia pouted.

It had been a week since they left Lysithara. After crossing the ancient gates, they hadn’t stopped once—eager to leave that cursed city behind. Anything in their way, they either killed or ignored.

After running for a week, they were exhausted. But finally, they’d returned to civilization.

Bandits. The first sign of it.

A terrible sign of insecurity and fractured order… but still, a sign.

Damon hated bandits.

He had a long-standing history with them, especially during his escape from his village to the capital. The caravan he joined was attacked several times.

His impression of bandits couldn’t be worse.

He knew how they operated—and what they did to their victims.

Still… today wasn’t their lucky day.

His party members seemed elated to see signs of the outside world again. After months in hell, even danger was a welcome return to normalcy.

They walked unhurried toward the treeline, where the bandits lay hidden.

Their armor was slick with dried blood. Their faces covered in grime. From a distance, they looked travel-worn—like survivors on their last legs.

Damon brushed off his armor. Now that the Keeper of False Truths was dead, his armor had changed—turned dark, reflecting his attribute.

Instead of turning to mist, he could now phase parts of his body into intangible shadow. It was a small improvement. He no longer had to shift his whole body to dodge attacks.

Leona and Sylvia, especially, seemed eager to encounter the bandits. Leona just wanted to fight. Sylvia? She was curious.

“She probably sees those bandits as some kind of experiment…” Evangeline muttered, echoing Damon’s own thoughts.

He glanced at her. She seemed anxious—the closer they got to safety, the more distant her gaze.

“You don’t look too happy to be back…”

Evangeline shook her head. “Why would you think that? I’m happy to be out of a death zone. It’s just… I…”

She trailed off.

Damon sighed. “Are you embarrassed because the first thing we ran into after reaching your duchy was bandits?”

She glared at him, golden eyes narrowing.

“Are you insinuating my family’s lands are lawless?”

Damon shrugged. “Your words, not mine…”

She clicked her tongue.

“This land doesn’t technically belong to us. It’s been disputed with House Astranova for years. And it borders the Kingdom of Anarchy. The Anarchy Mountains can’t be crossed easily—thanks to the dragon that lives there. Not to mention the road that leads to Lysithara and the Whispering Forest.”

Damon exhaled. “No need to get defensive, Eva. I was just teasing you.”

She scrunched her face. “I know that… still…”

Her eyes fell on the locket around his neck.

She had every reason to be uneasy.

“I planted these trees and paved this road. Leave all your things behind,” came a rough, gravelly voice.

Another voice chimed in. “And the women, Chief! Don’t forget the women!”

“Right—and the women, too…”

At this point, Sylvia and Leona were on the verge of clapping from excitement.

This was their first real encounter with bandits.

If these bandits had been stronger, this would not be funny. But they weren’t.

Damon clenched and unclenched his fist.

“So… this is what it’s like. Being powerful. Deciding who lives and who dies…”

He smiled, glancing at the trees.

“I could get used to this.”

Evangeline sighed. Xander looked unimpressed.

Leona shared Sylvia’s energy.

“But this road isn’t even paved,” Sylvia said, her voice light and innocent. “You guys did a horrible job. And these trees are really old. Clearly, you didn’t plant them. Are you lying to us?”

The fire moth bandit glanced at the Chief.

“We should really change our opening lines after this…”

The Chief scowled. “Attack—!”

But before they could even move—

Leona dashed forward. Her armored fist collided with the nearest bandit’s head—

CRACK!

His skull exploded like a melon, blood splashing in an arc.

Leona paused. Lightning danced along her gauntlets.

She stared at her hand in stunned silence.

She had ended a man with a casual punch.

That… was the difference in power.

Matia stepped from the shadows of the trees.

What followed—

Was carnage.

**************************

Damon sighed as he watched the slaughter unfold. For once, even he was surprised.

His friends were killing the bandits as if they weren’t even people — treating them the same way they’d treat monsters.

“This is their first time killing people…”

How were they okay with that? Damon remembered the struggle, the weight of taking a life for the first time. But these ones… were they truly unbothered?

Or had the Ruined City scarred them that deeply? So deeply that they no longer saw the bandits as human?

It seemed he wasn’t the only one twisted by the darkness they’d faced.

Now in their minds… holding back against any enemy was no different from death.

“The mental health quartermasters are going to have their hands full with us…”

And then there was Matia. She had killed most of them, and with each fresh corpse, Damon heard the same chime in his ears.

[You have slain bandit olyuon]

[You have slain bandit alwatr]

[You have slain bandit wing sleep]

You have slain bandit…]

As his shadow, anything she killed was credited to him. Every soul she reaped, every life she ended — counted for him.

The bandits, realizing their mistake far too late, tried to flee in panic — but it was already over. No one showed mercy.

From beginning to end, Damon simply stood there. Watching.

Limbs flew, organs torn, screams of despair.

And the stench of men shitting themselves. He watched

Until—

“Please have mercy…”

“Spare us… please…”

Groans of the defeated reached him. The bandit chief and some of his remaining men, the so-called ‘first class,’ were still alive — but not for long.

They’d never stood a chance.

This was the reality of power. Damon’s group was simply too fast, too well-equipped, and too experienced. It was like watching a squad of fully armed, blood-hardened knights mow down a group of sick children carrying sticks.

A massacre.

He watched as Matia’s blade danced again — more death, more chimes.

Then the unexpected happened.

The bandit chief, battered and bleeding, staggered toward Damon. Not to fight. But to beg.

He collapsed to his knees, head bowed in fear.

“Please… have mercy… spare my life… I’ll give you anything.”

The forest grew quiet. The others slowed, watching Damon. Even Matia waited, wordless, for his will.

Right or wrong. Good or evil. She would obey.

And Damon — bloodstained, his crown gleaming faintly like some tyrant judge — stood above the kneeling man.

The bandit chief trembled.

“Your Majesty… have mercy… please spare me…”

Damon looked at him without a flicker of emotion.

“What about the rest of your men? I can only spare one. But if you choose to die here today, the rest may live.”

The bandit leader’s eyes widened. He trembled harder.

“My King… I choose to live. Please… spare me…”

Damon frowned. He wasn’t really a king.

“And what of your men?”

The man waved a desperate hand.

“I barely know these people. They’re evil. They forced me to lead them!”

From the wreckage nearby, the Fire Moth — who had tried to fly away but had his wings sheared by Matia — gasped and shouted hoarsely.

“Chief…!”

Voices rose in betrayal. The surviving bandits called out his name, cursed him. Their pleas fell on deaf ears.

Tears filled the Fire Moth’s eyes as Matia’s icy gaze settled on him.

Damon nodded.

“Very well. You may leave.”

He glanced at Matia, choosing his words carefully.

“Kill the rest if you want.”

Even his phrasing mattered — a command, even accidental, was law to Matia.

As his shadow, she could not disobey.

The bandit chief scuttled into the woods, scraping across the ground to flee.

“You bastard! Please, don’t kill us!”

Leona watched him go, disgust writ plain across her face.

“A leader who abandons his own men…”

Damon looked at her.

“You’re free to go if you want.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you say you’d let him go?”

“I did.”

He smiled coldly.

“I never said you would.”

Leona grinned wide — then vanished in a flash of lightning.

Damon crouched down in front of the Fire Moth, voice low.

“Fleos… seems Jei has betrayed you.”

The wounded bandit trembled violently.

“H-How do you know my name?”

Damon smiled, eyes glinting.

“I know everyone’s names… Including yours, Fleos Salp. Fire Moth Attribute. Fire Class Mage. Skill: Mana Density. Common Class. You’re Failed Adventurer.”

Fleos shook, unable to comprehend how this blood-soaked stranger knew so much.

“Are… are you… a demon?”

Damon’s smile deepened.

“No. Just a man.”

His [Appraisal] skill was finally showing its worth. The gap in strength between them made it far more effective — and Fleos, mentally broken and beaten, offered no resistance.

“Now then… where’s the closest city?”

The interrogation began — brief, thorough, efficient.

Not long after, Leona returned, casually tossing the severed head of the bandit leader at Damon’s feet.

Evangeline approached.

Damon glanced her way.

“Are you here to condemn our actions?”

Evangeline shook her head slowly.

“Only a hypocrite would condemn justice.”

She looked at the corpses, her voice steady.

“These people are murderers. Rapists. Should we let them live, they’d pillage again, steal again… commit atrocities again. The dawn has come for them.”

With a radiant flash, her light magic ignited Fleos’ body.

He didn’t even scream.

A pile of ash.

It was brutal — but to Evangeline, it was justice. Her ideals had evolved, but they had not changed.

She still believed.

Damon turned back to the others.

“We’re not far from Gladstone. There’s a river nearby — we can wash this filth off before heading to the city. From there, we’ll take a teleportation gate to the duchy capital. We go back to the academy.”

Evangeline bit her lip, her heart pounding at the words.

Sylvia smiled softly.

“I’ve always wanted to see Lumos… the City of Radiant Water.”

Xander chuckled faintly.

“Looks like Evangeline will be our host.”

Damon, still not comfortable with the idea of nobility or being treated like a guest, forced a smile.

He didn’t think nobles would welcome him a lowly commoner.

A moment later, Evangeline mirrored him — the same forced smile.

Sylvia noticed their expressions.

Her eyes flicked to Evangeline.

‘Something is definitely fishy with her…’