My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

War councils, these were quite common and Damon had attended quite a few in his lifetime. This war council was the place where people’s lives and deaths were arbitrarily decided based on a few simple factors. Whether their deaths were a beneficial part of the military strategy or not.

Here, a few could decide the fate of the many and history could be written.

Damon pushed open the door of the large chamber and stepped inside. He walked up a small flight of stairs, his boots echoing softly, reaching one of the many seats in this vast council room. He moved toward the area marked with the crest of House Brightwater and the Empire and lowered himself into the seat with controlled ease.

This area was at the center of the room. From here he observed the other sections. Each of the seatings was arranged in order of continents, so there were nine areas and all but one was getting filled.

Damon frowned slightly.

Why were there nine. Normally only eight continents would send their representatives and the ninth would be occupied by the Temple. But not this time. The Temple was arranged on the same side as the Empire in Soltheon.

The other seating areas were for the different continents. At the very top were the seats reserved for those at the Seventh Class advancement.

A magical device hovered above the center, displaying maps and various images as well as a small focused area for voice transmission. The seating was comfortable and the tables were wide and tiered, carved with runic lines that faintly glowed.

“Interesting.” Ashcroft’s voice echoed out.

“Do you sense that. Yes, I know it well. The aura of a god. It seems they have a trump card.”

Damon kept his expression cool while Ashcroft spoke in his mind. The aura of a god in this case must mean Aetherus. Damon was certain he was the one the Temple was waiting on.

It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

“So what, the god of life is back. I doubt he can stop the outsiders.” This was an objective truth. Aetherus was powerful, yes, but even as the god of this world he could not do anything to the outsiders.

“If anything he is a liability,” Damon added in his mind to Ashcroft.

Aetherus was powerful but he was the sole god of this world. This world itself was his body and if he were to die the world would die with him.

If he showed up on the battlefield and got killed it would be the end of their world as a whole.

“The outsiders won’t go for the kill, not when they haven’t found their prize,” Ashcroft said coldly. “Though I wouldn’t put it past some of them, the truly evil, eccentric, or inhumane ones who have little concept of morality.”

Damon scoffed softly, lifting his hand to his chin and rubbing it in thought.

“No surprise. Being imprisoned for three hundred thousand years can drive anyone crazy. I can’t imagine that much time passing me by.”

“Naive,” Ashcroft whispered.

“That much time is nothing to them. They are transcendent. They are probably long past concepts of lifespan. They have seen things you and I cannot imagine. After a few millennia time stops having much meaning to you. Trust me, a day, a year, or a minute won’t seem so different.”

“That seems a bit sad,” Damon answered back with dimness in his eyes.

“I do not know if it is sad, but I assure you time doesn’t affect everyone the same way and even if it seems sad or lonely it is far better than death. When you have no more time and no more possibilities you are only a finality.”

Damon went quiet, his hair falling to the side of his face as he stared at the projections.

“You died before and came back. Doesn’t that mean death isn’t the end of all your possibilities.”

“Hmm, perhaps. But I will always choose life and struggle against the inevitable march of death. Even the transcendent outsider cannot avoid that,” Ashcroft’s voice echoed in his head with conviction.

Damon never got a chance to reply back or glean anything more from Ashcroft. He went silent when he noticed the woman at his side.

It was the same air and the scent of the battlefield.

“I knew you’d come back,” Seras said as she pulled the seat next to him and sat down.

She was wearing dented and badly damaged armor. It was scorched and partially melted and the hard mithril and runes were twisted out of shape. Her face was covered in small patches of blood she had clearly tried to clean off in a hurry.

The smudges said she had just come from the battlefield and for whatever reason she had tried to make herself look presentable in the last minute.

“Did you think I would die then,” Damon asked slowly as he breathed in the aura of someone in the Seventh Class. She smelled even more like war now and when he looked at her he saw visions of all the horrors of war around her.

As well as the clang of steel and the scent of blood in his nostrils.

“No, not at all. I just didn’t expect they would have a seat for you so quickly for the war council.”

Seras spoke in a businesslike tone while her eyes scanned him as if to check whether he was in pain or not.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered under her breath.

“It was my failings as a commander that led to your loss. I’m sorry about Wendy too. I searched around when I heard you came back without her.”

Damon shook his head slowly.

“No, it’s fine. Wendy lived for three hundred years but she told me her life only truly began when she met me. I want to be the type of person she thought I was, so I will not let her down.”

Seras chuckled softly and smiled at him.

“You’ve changed, Damon Grey.”

Damon did not want to keep talking about personal matters so he turned his head toward the chamber that was steadily filling up.

“What type of war council is this.”

Seras took a deep breath, the first calm breath she had taken since sitting down.

And just as she was about to answer, demons began to walk into the chamber from another door. Their first representative walked into the area and sat down in the place arranged for the Demon Continent.

Damon’s eyes flashed sharply.

“Demons in the war council.”

“Has the world gone mad.”