My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 780: Chapter 781: Damon The Demon

It was getting old and Damon had enough of this. There was only so much he could take and not get tired of the same repeated and beaten up arguments.

Even so, he felt his very soul trembling when he sat before the Archivist in the Pedestal of Accusation. It was as if the long arm of the law had finally caught up to him.

Still, Damon was not about to accept any guilt.

“Huh.” He sighed softly, rubbing his temples as if the situation itself gave him a headache.

“Is this one of those mental trials where I am forced to relive my guilt. That is not very original. I survived going through those things before. What is to say I cannot do so again.”

His tone was calm, yet Damon mentally went through all the things he had done in the past. If his actions were to be put against a scale where good and evil were judged, then Damon was certain the scale on the side of good would topple before the evils he had committed.

He was so bad that even he knew he was shit.

The Archivist did not reply to Damon’s arrogant tone. It merely stood up. When it did, Damon finally saw the furry legs that seemed to belong to a cow, though the fur was too wild and uneven. Its mouth was sewn shut. Damon had not noticed before because the Archivist had been looking down at the book it was writing on.

Its arms were long and bony and it was several meters tall. By his estimate, it was at least thirteen meters in height.

It slowly reached toward a small shelf and pulled out a book.

This book did not have any words inscribed on its hard cover.

Its form was black and it seemed to be made of deep black shadows.

Slowly, it sat back on its seat. The chair creaked under its weight, though Damon could not tell whether it was wood, bone, or something far more unpleasant.

Damon felt a connection with the book, as if it held a complete record of his life.

The Archivist slowly put down the book.

Slowly, the Archivist looked at the book again. Even its pages were blank and did not have anything written inside.

“Every story has a beginning. Yours does not seem to have one yet. You are in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“A breaker of natural order.”

Damon was slightly shaken. What. No, he knew what it was talking about. The Archivist was referring to the fact Damon was in a time that was four hundred thousand years before his birth.

This was the Zero Epoch, but Damon was born four Epochs later in the Third Epoch.

Damon stayed calm and did not show any change in his expression. He straightened his back slightly, forcing himself to maintain a steady presence.

The Archivist seemed to glare at him.

“There is no path for you here.”

Damon scoffed with disdain. What gave the creature the right to judge him.

“That is not for you or anyone to decide. If I can walk then there will be a path. If I can crawl I will still have a path forward. And even when I cannot do any of those and I have only breath, I will still decide for myself.”

The Archivist nodded slowly and began to write in the book it had carried.

“Your words are the arrogance of one who will bring ruination.”

“What a grave sin.”

Damon was unmoved by these words. He glanced around with the mirror seraph’s body, realizing he could not leave and Matia and Lazarak were nowhere to be found.

He was really getting comfortable relying on others. This was not the Damon way. He was used to being the lone wolf who did not even trust himself.

He perished the thought as soon as it surfaced, but even that was written down by the Archivist, added into the archive of Damon’s sins.

There was a brief silence as the Archivist wrote and Damon watched. It was as if the Archivist was peering down deep into his soul, taking out information and writing more and more about Damon, maybe even more than Damon knew himself.

“If I may, what happens when I pass the trial. Will I have to face you in battle.”

The Archivist raised its head from its writing, glancing down at Damon.

“It is a false assumption for a great sinner to think they will leave this place.”

Damon crossed his arms in the Pedestal of Accusation. His foot tapped once against the stone floor, a small sign of impatience leaking through.

“I will. Even if I have to burn this whole place to the ground.” There was a certainty in his voice.

This was mostly bravado, but Damon wanted to buy time for Matia and Lazarak to arrive here in case he failed.

There was a soft sigh from the Archivist as it shook its head.

“An extreme disposition for violence.”

Its voice was a low hiss that echoed into his very soul, causing Damon to feel shaken.

“You have kept me here for quite a while. Do you intend to bore me to death. I can already see how this is going to go. Save me the trouble. I am conditionally immortal. You cannot kill me.”

His tone was calm as he spoke to the Archivist, trying to gain a read on the entity.

The Archivist pivoted its gaze back to its book as it flipped a few pages, stopping to read the contents.

“Indeed. You bear a skill by the name of Deathless, which allows you to survive ordeals that should have killed you on the precondition that you wish for death.

“The skill was achieved as a result of your second class advancement.”

Damon tried to stay calm, but it confirmed what he wanted to know. The book the Archivist had carried really was a record of his life, or at least had details about it.

’Figures. I was right. It was worth probing.’

Which meant Damon had nothing to hide from this creature, except he had to be careful. He had no idea how much it actually knew.

The Archivist raised its hand.

“Today we have gathered to bear witness to the sins of one who has sinned.

“Every book should have a title and so too a sinner.

“For this sinner.

“Is

“Damon the Demon.

“Here I record his sins.”