My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 864: Chapter 865: Wisp In The Metaverse

By the special grace of the goddess in her infinite mercy, Damon managed to get out of that situation.

Somehow.

Now he found himself in a strategy meeting. Or, more accurately, a conference-style gathering held by members of the goddess races.

Naturally, it was to discuss the nature of their plans. Damon would have been more cautious, but he was certain Seraph Null already knew about them. He simply wanted them gathered in one place so they could begin their rebellion and he could crush them all at once.

After all, the one with absolute power also possessed absolute confidence.

For that reason, Damon was fine with keeping their trump card hidden from the lesser god.

As for that trump card, Lazarak had been regaining his power far faster than expected, thanks to the cult spreading his faith.

The people in the room included Damon’s party and students from Aether Academy. Lilith, Renata, Natch Wuta, and a few others were present. Then there were representatives from the Eldorian Magic Academy of the Magic Continent. Others from surviving academies had also arrived, including the beastkin girl Ishara Fang, several elves, and various figures Damon barely recognized.

It was a full house.

So many familiar faces.

And so many missing ones.

Abellona cleared her throat, her red eyes scanning the large hall. Those seated here were the most powerful and influential members of the current resistance.

“Thank you for coming, everyone. We have many items on today’s agenda, and these matters may very well determine whether we live or die.”

She turned her head slightly, and projection magic flared to life, images forming in the air above the table.

Damon raised an eyebrow. That was impressive. He had not even known they had someone capable of projection magic at that level.

He glanced toward the young knight maintaining the spell. She was short, with neatly cut blonde hair, her posture rigid as she focused.

Abellona waved her hand, and the images shifted.

“This is the nightmare of Lazarak. I’m sure everyone here heard the voice when they first awakened in this world’s dungeon, along with its promised rewards.”

Everyone murmured their agreement. It had been an enticing offer, one most of them would never have reached under normal circumstances.

Abellona clenched her fist.

“The reward was a fourth class advancement. A promise that whoever survived would reach it.”

She bit her lip. As the leader of this conference and princess of the empire, she knew exactly who was making that promise.

And she did not like it.

This was heresy. The temple would cause trouble for them. And this time, it was not just one offender. It was her, and the children of the most powerful figures in the world. Harming them on that pretext would mean making an enemy of the entire world.

Evangeline crossed her arms.

“The unknown god. Worshipped by the demon races.”

Damon crossed his arms as well.

“Technically, even they don’t actually worship him. But yes. It’s him. Though personally, I didn’t receive such a promise. As the last one to enter that hell, I was mostly unconscious when it happened.”

Emilia Highgon bit her finger nervously.

“We don’t really have a choice about accepting the rewards or not. What is the temple going to do? Expect us to kill ourselves. That’s not possible. I’d rather we focus on our current problems. There’s no certainty we’ll even survive long enough to enjoy such a reward.”

Sylvia nodded slowly, her fingers resting against the cover of her book.

“Then maybe we should ask the real questions. Where are we, and how do we go back home? Alive, preferably.”

Xander crossed his arms as he sat beside Emilia.

“Those black things. Do you remember them from the ruins of Lysithara.”

The question was directed at his party.

“Yes,” Damon replied, his expression serious.

Evangeline narrowed her eyes.

“The black entities that emerged from the rift in Lysithara whenever they sensed light.”

The room fell silent.

Most of them barely knew what Lysithara truly was. The Path of Kings was an ancient ruin, a death zone. No one survived it.

Except Damon and his party.

More recently.

“The minions of Ittorath,” Sylvia added.

As she said the name, an odd sensation crawled up her spine, as if something distant had briefly turned its gaze toward her. She shook her head. Just intuition. He wasn’t here.

“Ittorath?” Abellona asked, voicing the confusion of many.

Damon sighed, rubbing his temple as a familiar headache began to form.

“Ittorath is an outsider from beyond the heavens. In the First Epoch, he fought the Ascendants and was sealed away by Valarie and Valcara.”

He leaned back in his chair. As the one with the knowledge, he continued.

“Ittorath is a nightmare. Not figuratively. Literally. He was someone’s dream that gained physical form and developed its own will in a place called the metaverse. Those black things are nightmares.”

The room was deathly quiet.

Sylvia continued in his stead.

“In theory, every one of us has created a nightmare in the metaverse at some point in our lives through bad dreams. But since we hardly matter in the grand scheme of things, our nightmares become no more than harmless wisps.”

Ishara Fang finally spoke, her face pale.

“Then whose nightmare was this Ittorath, if he was so powerful.”

Sylvia’s gaze flicked briefly toward Lilith.

“If I had to guess, Ittorath was a nightmare born from the unknown god. An insignificant one, perhaps, but still a dream from his tortured mind.”

The room inhaled sharply.

That thought alone was terrifying.

“Goddess protect us,” someone whispered.

“And that brings us to the main issue,” Lilith said slowly. “The black giant that consumed us was also a nightmare. As you all remember, it too was brought by the unknown god. In fact, he came personally, possessing the priestess of the Snake Temple.”

Silence followed.

They all remembered that presence. It had been more than dread. Their hearts hadn’t even felt fear.

Fear was too loud.

They had not wanted him to notice them.

Abellona sighed.

“All of this leaves us with more questions. However, we can safely assume we are inside the body of that giant nightmare. As for this world, it likely fused with the dungeon gate.”

She leaned forward, resting her hands on the table.

“Now the question is whose nightmare are we dreaming. And more importantly, who is this Lazarak.”

Damon raised his hand.

“Oh. Right. I forgot to mention.”

He smiled faintly.

“Lazarak is a friend of mine.”

All eyes turned to him.