My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Damon's mood was light—for all intents and purposes, everything had gone exactly as planned.

He recalled seeing Kudi Kudi's profile in one of the files Lilith had handed him months ago. Apparently, she'd been aiming to recruit the little bastard for a while.

'I wonder if Kudi Kudi's got some grudge against the Temple…'

Either way, it didn't matter. Damon could already see how this would play out.

Kudi would take the potion to the market, and from there, its reputation would explode. Alchemists, scholars, even black market collectors would kill to get their hands on a potion with a perfect purity rating.

A shame, really… to Damon, it wasn't even worth a second glance. It was one of the more common system drops.

The system had the tendency to give him weird potions too, like one that could cure almost any debuff. But only if you feed the recipient mouth to mouth.

Still, nobles, merchants, alchemists, mages, and underground dealers would be clawing over each other to trace its origin.

"How the Adventurers Guild responds… that'll push Kudi right to us."

And because the deal was a private transaction between Damon and Kudi, the guild wasn't obligated to offer any protection.

Or they would pressure him to give it to them for a price; as a merchant, he'd hate that.

If Damon knew anything about Leruchuna, it was this— They hated losing money.

So, naturally, Kudi would reach out to Lilith Astranova for protection.

Damon explained it all to Lilith over the pager.

She sighed, feeling a bit excited. He could tell by her tone.

"I see. That does settle things… though we don't really have an organization yet. But leave it to me. I'll push him to join us."

Damon could almost picture the smile on her face.

She went on, telling him a bit of her plan.

"I've got contacts in the Assassins Guild. I'll use them to… encourage him a little. For now… I'm in the capital. If you need me, I'll be there in moments."

The wind caught Damon's hair as he smiled. So she was setting him up.

"There's no need. I'm enough for this… Just take care of those two for me."

Lilith didn't argue. She knew who those two were—

Iris and Luna. Once again Damon had left her to babysit for him.

Did he forget looking after his sister and his apprentice was his responsibility.

She hung up.

Damon felt a faint irritation lingering in the air.

He glanced to the side, to where the shadows seemed just a shade too deep.

"Shall we go, Matia?"

A female knight, her form wrapped in darkness, stepped forward with a quiet nod.

It seemed his shadow had caught up to him. He did tell her to do as she pleased.

But that was fine.

Tonight, it all ended.

She moved to stand silently at his side.

They were now in a familiar part of the city.

Not far from here was the headquarters of the infamous smuggling ring—Quick Hand.

This was where Damon had been raised.

Where he had spent years struggling between life and death.

Where he had lived with back-to-back the elf who had saved him more times than he could count.

But also sent him toward death more.

Looking back on it… he wouldn't have survived without Back-to-Back.

Especially since Damon had a bad habit—

He pissed off every single member of Quick Hand.

He wasn't the type to take things lying down.

If someone pissed him off, he'd steal flay powder from Gubi's poison stash and smear it on their clothes.

Naturally, there were consequences.

Beaten half to death.

Locked in a dark room for days.

Once, they'd stuffed him in a coffin with tiny holes drilled in—

The claustrophobia nearly broke his mind.

Sometimes they cut off a finger… or two.

Quick Hand had a thousand ways to punish the street rat they couldn't seem to get rid of.

Why would they?

The kid was daring—

He did anything and everything.

And somehow…

He always came back alive.

And Damon had made it very clear.

He'd kill them all.

Every. Last. One.

But none of them cared.

What was a street urchin going to do?

They thought they knew the way the world worked—

A crook bows to a mafia.

A mafia bows to a noble.

A noble bows to a king.

And a king?

Who would Damon bow to?

No one.

"Nothin's changed, Back-to-Back… I grew up. I saw the world. And I'm still the same small, pathetic, defiant loser I've always been. I don't know how this story ends… but I do know… I'll lose on my own terms."

He clenched his fists.

"Against man, demon… or god."

It was the same when he joined Aether Academy.

Beaten. Mocked.

Bullied by Marcus and his dogs.

But never once had he groveled.

It might seem lame to others—

But that was Damon Grey.

Cold eyes, holding a hatred even time couldn't erase.

The disgrace of the Academy… had returned.

Born of shadows.

His deeds wouldn't be noble.

He wouldn't be a hero sung in tales.

He'd be the demon lord they all wanted to purge.

A disgrace to every noble ideal he should have stood for.

From the shadows, armor began forming.

Metal clicking into place over his body.

Thick, heavy plates—

Built for battle.

Built for war.

And Damon…

Was calm.

His skill Remorseless dulled his heart, numbing his mind.

Quick Hand wasn't even a threat.

But if he wiped out a group this big, this violently…

The Imperial Knights would move.

Quick Hand might be trash…

But they had powerful backers.

The kind of backers with friends in high places.

"I might not make it out alive…"

The thought made him laugh.

A low, bitter sound that grew louder until it echoed through the streets.

He laughed like a madman.

Because the idea of death stopping him—

Was a joke.

He laughed because he couldn't cry.

And when the laughter died…

He vanished into the night.