My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Damian was the name of his grandfather, and ironically, his mother may have named him Damon because, in some part of her, she wanted a connection to her estranged father.

After meeting the old man, Damon could say without a doubt that he had inherited his most temperamental traits directly from him. The old man looked like he didn't even fear God.

Arrogance ran in his blood. By some measure, even Evangeline carried it. After all, this was the same girl who never gave anyone the time of day. She didn't even know Damon existed despite being in the same class as him. That level of ego, to disregard the entire world, was something else.

You would think she had at least heard the rumors.

But she didn't care. Damon was something of a celebrity at the academy. He still was, even now, though for a very different reason.

That ego of his did have a tendency to get him in trouble. A lot.

He glanced down at his body, dried blood crusted against his skin. These were the marks of his latest injuries, the result of standing up to Ashcroft. And right now, Damon was racking his brain on how to kill that demon.

He considered using his shadow clone to send for help from the capital, maybe even contact Lilith Astranova, but he dismissed the idea. His clone was already deep inside Ravenscroft territory, preparing to assassinate the heir of a grand dukedom.

He didn't want to jeopardize that.

The second reason was Ashcroft himself. If the empire caught wind of what Damon could do, they would want to verify it, or worse, terminate him before any leaks spread. His ability to clone himself was not something he could risk exposing.

But the most important reason was the unknown god.

This was a quest between him and Ashcroft. The god had already accounted for the time and the place. Foreign interference would not be allowed.

Even if he contacted Lilith, she wouldn't reach him faster than she could return to Valerion. She could send a message or make a call, but she would also be forced to reveal her source.

And even if they did mobilize, would they really be able to break through Ashcroft's barrier in time?

All of these reasons, and one more above them all—Damon wanted to kill Ashcroft with his own hands.

He didn't want to borrow another man's knife. He wanted the satisfaction of ending him with his own strength.

Ashcroft was arrogant. So was he.

This was ego against ego, and his pride was the only thing on the line.

But the question remained. How could he kill Ashcroft?

Abellona sat quietly next to him, her brows knit in thought, searching for the solution to their predicament.

"He's growing weaker," she muttered, her voice laced with anger. How could she have missed something so obvious? How could a rankless goblin be so powerful? Clearly, Ashcroft was breaking some natural law of the world.

He had seemed invincible. She hadn't even placed him in the category of an enemy that could be beaten.

Damon nodded slowly.

"The more he uses his power, the more he falls apart."

She drew in a shaky breath. "What do we do with this information? In war, knowing isn't enough. You have to exploit it."

Damon stretched his hand forward, a sharp pain racing through his body as he moved.

"In that case, we should identify what cards he has in his deck and compare them to ours."

Abellona bit her lip.

"The strongest thing he has is the fact that he is Ashcroft. That alone is a key to victory."

Damon shook his head, anger flickering in his eyes.

"But we've already established that he doesn't have time. He won't waste his energy searching for us personally unless he has to."

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you implying?"

Damon smirked, a thin smile pulling at his lips.

"Exactly what you think I am. He's a king before he's a warrior, and we both know kings don't dirty their own hands unless they're forced to."

Abellona frowned. She didn't like the way he said that. It felt like he was mocking her own status as a princess. But it was also true. If she were searching for someone hidden, she wouldn't go herself either. She would send her subordinates while she commanded from the center.

And when the enemy was finally revealed, she would crush them.

"Right," she said quietly. "He didn't show his face until his lesser demons found us. He just let us walk into his trap."

Damon nodded, his bones stiff with pain.

"Exactly. Which means we need to take out his minions."

Her eyes flickered with a dark light, a sinister smile tugging at her lips.

"If we take them out, he'll have no choice but to come searching himself. That means he wastes more energy and falls apart quicker. Then we just wait for him to die."

Damon raised his hand, shaking his head.

"No. Not that. I want to fight him on even ground. His full strength against mine."

Abellona stared at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Is that so? Then why don't you go fight him now?"

Damon knew what she was thinking. But if he let Ashcroft die on his own, without facing him, then he would run from Ashcroft's shadow for the rest of his life.

"I'll be fine. I promise you won't die."

Her eyes narrowed. "If you fight Ashcroft at the same rank, would you win?"

She bit her lip, but the question already hung in the air.

"Who's stronger? Him or you?"

Damon smiled, recalling the overwhelming pressure of Ashcroft's power.

"Well, if Ashcroft regained his full power, he might give me some trouble."

She gave him a flat, deadpan look, unimpressed.

"But would you lose?" she pressed.

Damon raised his head, not hesitating for even a second.

"Nah. I'd win."

Her gaze swept over him with open disdain.

"If we survive this, I'm taking you straight to the mental health quartermaster."