My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

The gentle breeze of the morning brushed past his face, carrying the lingering scent of breakfast.

The fragrance of tea hung thick in the air—aromatic, but not overwhelming.

Pleasant.

A wide balcony overlooked the courtyard training ground below, where armored knights clashed in drills under the rising sun.

Despite the steel ringing and orders being shouted, this place—this pavilion set on green grass, ringed with flowers—felt untouched by the chaos beneath.

Damon sat calmly, a teacup in hand, his eyes fixed on the chessboard before him.

The board wasn't standard. Each piece was a carved figure: dragons, elves, fae, centaurs… even demons.

Every piece had its own unique movement set.

And while Damon was holding his own… he was losing.

His opponent was simply too good.

The Grand Duke smiled faintly. Damon had put up an impressive fight for someone so young.

Truth be told, he could've ended the game from the very beginning—but he wanted it to last a little longer.

"It's your move, boy."

Damon nodded and set down his cup.

This was the third day he'd spent in the Brightwater Estate.

And each morning, without fail, he shared breakfast with the Grand Duke. Just the two of them.

By this point, Damon was almost certain.

He just needed one single piece of proof.

To get it, he'd need to sneak into the Duke's wing of the palace—one that few were allowed to enter.

But that was fine.

He had a plan.

There was a ball tonight. The Grand Duke would attend, which meant he wouldn't be in his wing.

And unlike him… I can be in two places at once.

He smiled and made his move, capturing two of the Grand Duke's pieces with a subtle flourish.

The old man was good. Too good.

"Tell me, Damon… what do you think wins wars?"

Damon wore a thoughtful expression, though his mind was already far elsewhere.

The Grand Duke loved to talk politics at breakfast—every day, without fail.

Ordinarily, Damon might've been out of his depth.

But thanks to Lilith, who drilled it into his head for their future ambitions, he was more than prepared.

"War can be won by many factors… just as many can cause losses."

The Grand Duke nodded slowly, sipping his tea.

"Have you heard of the Battle of Halrem Pass? It was quite recent."

Damon looked up at him.

"I wouldn't call something that happened almost ten years ago recent," he replied.

"But yes, I'm aware of the disastrous losses the goddess races suffered there."

The Grand Duke made another move—shattering six of Damon's pieces in a single sweep.

"Why do you think that battle was lost? It was the first battle of the most recent Demon Wars, yet we began with defeat."

Damon glanced down at the board.

Couldn't this old man hold back a little? I'm only seventeen…

"The official story was that the demon army had more high-ranked fighters on the battlefield."

The Grand Duke leaned forward, interested.

"But you have a different opinion."

Damon nodded.

"Yes… Halrem is a pass that leads to the sea between Soltheon and Centros. The demons secured their logistics line. Meanwhile, the goddess races ignored supply lines in favor of firepower."

He looked back at the board. "In war… logistics always wins."

The Grand Duke smiled, clearly pleased.

"You have a sound strategic mind. Where were youngsters like you when the war started?"

Damon smiled back, but this time… it was sharp.

"Probably in my mother's arms… before she got dragged into the war. I would imagine the loss at Halrem was the reason the demon army made it so far inland."

The Grand Duke faltered, just briefly. Damon didn't miss it.

He used that moment to go on the offensive, shifting the game in his favor and aiming for the jugular.

Naturally, he had been snooping around.

He'd tried using astral projection to reach the Grand Duke's private wing, but ultimately gave up the idea.

Still, he'd learned enough.

For instance, the Grand Duke kept a portrait of his late daughter in his room.

"That was a nice move," the old man admitted.

Damon smiled faintly. "Thank you, Your Grace."

He remained cautious. The old man didn't exude hostility—but if this chess game was any clue, then he was more than capable of toying with people.

Damon had seen many faces wear masks in his life.

Being betrayed by blood was nothing new.

He had long stopped expecting anything from those who shared his bloodline.

More importantly…

'How do I politely get out of here?'

Down below, Evangeline had entered the courtyard. She and Leona looked to be preparing for a sparring match.

Damon leaned forward with a smirk.

"That looks intriguing. Mind if I test my mantle against the famed knights of the Brightwater Duchy?"

The Grand Duke nodded. "By all means… however, you should wear this."

With a motion of his hand, he pulled something from his spatial ring.

It was a hooded outfit—black with golden embroidery, tailored and elegant.

Damon took it, unfolding the fabric. It shimmered slightly in the morning light.

The texture. The aura.

"Karfe…" he whispered.

A magical thread. Durable. Able to change color to match any outfit.

And very, very expensive.

'How many million zeni is this worth on the market…?'

The Grand Duke's gaze fell on the crown atop Damon's head.

"That crown may cause some trouble. But if you wear a hood of such quality, few will notice. Think of it as a small gift."

'Several million zeni is a small gift.'

Damon nodded, accepting the hood. It shifted in color to match his current clothes.

He pulled it over his head and observed himself through his shadow.

The crown still gleamed faintly beneath… but at least it was hidden now.

The Grand Duke smiled. "You may wear that to the ball tonight. The press will be in attendance… as well as every noble in the region."

Damon nodded quietly.

"There's no need to worry. Even after you leave, if someone causes trouble over the crown on your head… you need only inform me."

It was almost a touching gesture.

Almost.

If he wasn't already drowning in suspicion.

"Thank you, Your Grace… I'll keep that in mind."

Damon stood and turned toward the balcony's edge.

Then, without hesitation, he jumped down.

Wind rushed past him as he landed near the training knights.

'Let's hope Lilith got my message.'