My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 617: Chapter 618: Soul Damage

The noise was far and distant… but he still heard it. The sounds seemed drowned out, as though muffled by water. No… it felt like he was underwater….

His eyes slowly opened, a dull ache gnawing at the very core of his being.

The moment his eyes opened, the sounds flooded his ears clear as day. Closing them again, he endured the throbbing in his head before slowly sitting up.

He found himself on a large bed in a luxurious room, its white sheets covering him as sunlight poured in through the window, bathing everything in a golden glow.

He narrowed his eyes as they adjusted to the brightness of the room.

“Where am I…”

Damon muttered those words reflexively, not expecting an answer. Yet a reply came.

“We are in the Valtheron capital city, my lord.”

The voice came from a violet-haired young woman kneeling by his bed. Her head was lowered, posture rigid, as though waiting for his orders.

He took a deep breath, trying to make sense of the situation. The last thing he remembered was… discussing plans with Lilith Astranova and Renata Malcrist, filling Renata in on their strategy while they contemplated just how much use they could extract from her.

Then…

No. That wasn’t his last memory. Damon recalled something else. He had been at the Ravenscroft citadel, a palace had stalked for weeks. Somehow, he had slipped inside past their defenses, fully aware that going in meant death.

He hadn’t cared. It was only his shadow clone.

Holding his head, he pieced together the memories. He had found his target—Godric Ravenscroft. After a short exchange, he killed him, pulling off something that had never been done. At least, not within the stronghold of a dukedom.

“I killed him…” he muttered, his words loud enough for Renata to hear, though he wasn’t really speaking to her.

What he had done was equivalent to assassinating an imperial prince inside his own palace, the one place where he should have been safest.

And Damon had done it in the most high-profile way imaginable.

What followed was not delightful. He had run into Xander. That had been the most difficult part of the night—not facing Xander’s father or even his grandfather. It was Xander himself. Seeing his usually confident face collapse into despair, watching him stare at his older brother’s corpse, watching hatred consume him.

There was a time when Damon would have felt joy at such a sight. Now, it only left a bitter taste in his mouth.

That was why revenge was bittersweet. It had been bitter because of who he hurt in the process. It had been sweet because of who he got to kill.

He pressed a hand against his side, feeling a pain he couldn’t quite trace.

Dealing with Xander hadn’t caused this pain. No… this came from being killed so thoroughly by an old monster at the seventh class of advancement.

The Grand Duke of House Ravenscroft. Even recalling it now sent a chill down his spine. The last time his own grandfather had destroyed one of his shadow clones, Damon had suffered soul injuries. And that was when the clone had already been half-faded, costing Damon less.

This time had been different. This had been his most powerful clone yet, fully materialized.

His face remained impassive, but inside he could feel the agony of his soul. He had taken a great deal of damage. Damon was weakened.

’Suppose this confirms it… my clones’ deaths don’t completely absolve my true body…’

He didn’t look hurt, but he was. The damage had been dealt by someone in the seventh class, acting with full intent to kill, driven by the rage of losing a family member.

“What is that noise…” he finally muttered, acknowledging the commotion outside.

Renata, who had been waiting for him to speak, quickly responded.

“My lord, it is the street performers…”

He narrowed his eyes, glancing toward the window of the building he was in.

“Street performers…”

Renata nodded, rising to her feet.

“It has been two weeks since you collapsed, my lord. I never imagined you would be ambushed by the vile machinations of the goddess races…”

She bit her lip, anger surging in her voice.

“I detected traces of magic unique to House Ravenscroft… at a high advancement, most likely seventh class. We tried to heal you, but it was to no avail.”

Damon’s eyes remained calm, though his heart stirred in surprise.

Two weeks. He had been out for two whole weeks.

Then the noise outside…

“The war games are here, aren’t they…”

Renata nodded, lifting a neatly arranged stack of papers bound into a folder.

“The war games will begin in four days. As the top student of your year, the academy has automatically enrolled you.”

She smiled faintly, glancing at a list of names.

“You have gained quite the fame, my lord. Many fools wish to challenge you, which is to be expected.”

Renata clenched her fists tightly.

“As if those lowly rabble are qualified to face your might…”

Damon smiled, finding her words amusing. He opened his mouth to respond, but—

“Cough, cough…” A dry cough escaped him, his chest aching as dizziness washed over him. The world flickered in and out of focus.

He leaned forward, nearly collapsing, when a hand emerged from his shadow. It caught him firmly, guiding him back upright.

Damon glanced at the woman who stepped out of the darkness. Her blue eyes flickered beneath her visor, fixed on him with a look that could only be described as worry.

Matia, or rather, as she was right now, his shadow ruin fairy.

Renata immediately supported him from the other side.

“My lord, are you alright? You must still have lingering trauma…”

Damon closed his eyes with a soft sigh.

“I’m fine.” He was not fine.

“This is nothing.” It was not nothing—it was definitely something.

“It cannot hinder my power.” It was a major hindrance to his power.

The door opened. A woman with flowing red hair stepped inside, letting out a soft sigh that was really just a shallow attempt to hide her worry.

“You aren’t in good shape… maybe you should sit out the war games until you get better…”

Damon smiled faintly when he saw Lilith Astranova enter the room.

“We both know I’m not going to do that…”

She sighed with a resigned expression.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”