My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 872: Chapter 873: And Then—

Two weeks passed since then, and most of the cocoons in the chamber had been born. Damon now had a significant number of drones, or as he was calling them, shadows.

Depending on their rank and specialty, their appearances varied. Some were humanoid, others bestial, others little more than moving silhouettes clinging to the walls.

Other than combat types, additional variants could exist.

There was so much to try, yet so little time to do so.

Damon lowered his gaze to the paper in his hands. Abellona had sent him a message. By sundown, only a few hours from now, the attack would begin.

Her intelligence network, which was actually controlled by Lilith Astranova, had apparently sensed that the Black Tower was on the move. Damon doubted any real intelligence gathering had occurred. More likely, it was knowledge. Lilith had lived through this before.

Nevertheless, Sylvia Moonveil was still by Abellona’s side.

Damon continued making preparations. Part of his reason for not returning was his disagreement with Lilith. The main reason, however, was Abellona’s warning not to return until negotiations with the demon heirs were complete. After all, Damon had been the one to kill Amon, the very being they followed.

His presence would only create more hostility than necessary.

Honestly, that worked out just fine for him.

As for Lilith, he would simply have to be careful not to run into her.

His primary goal remained unchanged. The elixir of pseudo immortality.

Damon wrapped the spear Mutuwa in black fabric, securing it across his back. The weight of it settled between his shoulders, familiar and heavy.

This was his key to exit.

The spear was woven from a single strand of the goddess’s hair and refined into a weapon by Lazarak.

This would be his death.

The irony was not lost on him. Deathless, the skill that kept him alive, had been a boon from the Unknown God after the Goddess of Doom had killed him. Now, Damon intended to use Doom’s power to end the life the Unknown God had forcibly extended.

Above ground, the members of Damon’s cult were ready.

The final battle was here. Just like that.

The city fell into a sudden silence. It was as if everyone could feel it. The storm was approaching.

Damon decided to leave and regroup with his party, leaving control of both the cult and the shadows to Lazarak and the two children.

Matia followed him. After all, they were her friends too.

As he walked through the city roads, his boots echoing against stone, he felt a hint of melancholy from his time here.

”I suppose it will end soon..”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, the sky had changed.

Massive balls of flame fell from above, streaking downward in all directions.

Hell rained down upon the city.

From where he stood, Damon could not even feel the overwhelming heat. Instead, he felt something worse. Multiple auras of the fourth class advancement crashing down upon the city like judgment.

Rumble.

The earth shook violently as flames struck the ground. Buildings toppled indiscriminately. On the wide road where Damon stood, rubble rained down upon fleeing pedestrians.

A mother tried to pull her child out of the way. She was too slow.

A rock no larger than a watermelon crushed her skull, blood splattering across the stone. The little girl screamed, her voice tearing through the chaos as she cried out for her mother.

Damon froze.

He had not expected this.

Slowly, he lifted his head.

In the sky stood a figure wreathed in flames, chains coiling around his body as he looked down upon the world. He raised his arm, preparing to launch another attack.

Flames spread rapidly. In the scorching desert city, houses and fabric ignited instantly. Screams echoed from every direction.

”They are destroying their own city..” Damon muttered, disbelief tightening his chest.

The man of flames was not alone.

Nearby floated another figure, holding a parasol. With casual gestures, he bent the wind itself. The flames twisted and merged, forming firestorms.

They were using the same trick Damon had once used against them. Fire and wind combined.

A giant tornado of fire rose and danced through the city.

Damon’s eyes followed its path.

It was heading straight toward where they had stationed a large portion of their supplies and people.

”They are trying to cut off our supplies. This is not arrogance. It is a preemptive strike.”

”Dammit.”

Damon gritted his teeth and broke into a sprint, boots pounding against stone as he moved. He briefly considered unleashing Matia from his shadow and ordering her to fly toward the two apostles.

He dismissed the thought.

She was one rank below them. In the sky, she would be visible to archers. This was planned.

Damon reached into his shadow storage and pulled out his sword, the blade sliding into his grip.

He leapt onto the rooftops as crowds fled below, panic spreading faster than the flames.

Raising his hand to his ear, he activated his brand and contacted Abellona.

”Hey, princess... what the hell is going on? I thought we had more time.”

Her voice came through strained, layered with distant explosions.

”Your guess is as good as mine. It seems the enemy prepared before we did. This is earlier than expected, but everything is ready anyway.”

Damon vaulted over a rolling mass of fire and slid through a burning window, glass shattering around him.

”Now what.”

Her voice echoed through the brand.

”Rendezvous at my location. The supply line will most likely be destroyed, but that is not our only line of supply.”

Damon clenched his jaw.

”Then let’s hope this doesn’t turn into a long battle. If it does, we’ll be sitting ducks.”

He was about to say more when his shadow perception flared.

Troops of the Chained Knights were moving. All of them were converging on the Black Tower.

Magical seals and wards rose around it in layered defensive formations, as if the tower itself was preparing for something immense.

The world suddenly felt heavier.

The sense of rejection pressing against Damon intensified.

He could feel it.

Things were about to get worse.

Elsewhere, Lilith stood still, gazing up at the sky. Her expression was calm, Sylvia beside her.

”The butterfly effect has begun,” she said softly. ”Who would have thought the Archivist from Eidolon would survive his journey across the desert and arrive here on time. In the previous regression, he was killed by you when he ran into you.”

She glanced at Sylvia.

”That did not happen this time because I left with you. Now Seraph Null knows.”

.....

Damon stopped mid step.

Something rose from the Black Tower. Something vast.

His eyes widened in horror.

Then came the voice.

Deep and ancient. It shook the air itself.

”Lazarak. I know you are here, traitor god. Come out and face me, coward, or I will burn this city to the ground.”

Wings unfolded.

Wings so massive they dwarfed mountains. Each feather was larger than a great oak.

”Seraph Null,” Damon muttered, cold dread settling into his bones.