My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 815 - 816: A Book

Damon’s movements came to a standstill following Lazarak’s intervention.

In truth, Damon lacked the natural inclination to treat children with special leniency simply due to their age.

His worldview had been forged by the ruthless environment of Valerion’s streets, leaving little room for sentimentality.

To him, there was no significant distinction; while he wasn't intentionally malicious, he refused to let them deceive him. Eventually, Damon realized he was becoming a reflection of the very world that had raised him.

This realization caused him to hesitate.

Loosening his hold, he permitted the boy to tumble to the earth. Lyn slammed into the soil, gasping for air and clutching his neck as a fit of violent coughing took hold of him.

His sister immediately knelt beside him, her hands gripping his shoulders in support. Her gaze remained fixed on Damon’s dark form, her features twisted with intense dread.

Lazarak offered a faint smile as he moved toward them.

"Forgive my companion," he remarked casually. "He struggles with certain issues, but he is working through them. Once you get to know him, you’ll see he’s actually a decent person. Believe me."

The pair remained silent at first.

Lowering his small frame to match their height, Lazarak crouched down. His look grew even more compassionate.

"It is alright," he murmured, resting a hand on each of their heads. An ancient, genuine warmth resonated in his voice. "There is no pressure to speak if you aren't ready."

Under Lazarak’s soothing touch, the siblings began to lose some of their tension. After a moment of hesitation, the girl bit her lip.

She cast a wary look toward Damon before finding her voice.

"...We were separated from our father before arriving in this realm. Rumors reached us that he was considered a high-risk prisoner and sent to the imaginary prison. We came here to save him."

Damon frowned, glancing at Lazarak. After a brief exchange of looks, Lazarak returned his focus to the children.

"I see," he replied slowly. "What is your father’s name?"

"Ilyth," the girl said quickly, her voice tinged with a desperate hope. "His name is Ilyth."

The name meant nothing to Lazarak.

However—

Damon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The name was familiar to him. More accurately, he had encountered the man—or at least, what he had been turned into.

"Ilyth Nova," Damon whispered.

As soon as the name was spoken, Lyn’s eyes shimmered with excitement.

"Yes! That is him," he exclaimed urgently. "Have you encountered him? Please, tell us everything!"

Damon’s brow furrowed. He recalled that name from the records of transgressions within the Trial of Sin.

"Ilyth the Insightful."

Hearing that title caused Lazarak to go still.

He recognized that specific naming convention and understood its grim implications perfectly.

It signified that their father was no longer among the living. He had been transformed into a tome of living flesh, destined for eternal agony.

"His crimes are numerous," Damon stated flatly. "He was accused of spreading forbidden magic and subversive ideologies that resulted in mass casualties, among other offenses."

"That is a lie!" Lyn cried out, his voice trembling with indignation.

"Our father was a man of learning. He shared the gift of magic and his wisdom freely with others. He didn't hoard power like the lesser gods. He believed humanity should determine its own destiny through logic and personal strength."

Sithara stood firmly by her brother, biting her lip.

"Father wanted to transform this world and end the reign of ignorance," she added softly. "He dreamt of a place where knowledge was accessible to everyone—a sanctuary for those wishing to improve the world."

Though Damon’s face remained a mask of indifference, a small spark of emotion flickered within him.

These were the words of children who held onto their father with unwavering devotion.

He paused.

Lazarak gave them a kind smile.

"Your father sounds like a remarkable individual," he said gently. "I would have been honored to know him."

Sithara nodded, her eyes welling with tears.

"He is," she breathed.

She performed a deep bow toward Damon.

"Please. Lead us to him."

Her brother followed suit, his face a mask of pure desperation.

Damon let out a heavy sigh.

Even for someone like him, this situation felt excessively cruel.

Watching the siblings brought back echoes of his own youth and memories of his sister.

Luna.

He felt a pang of longing for her.

Despite his feelings, Damon was unable to grant their request in the way they imagined.

"I cannot fulfill that request," he said softly.

The two children slumped further toward the ground at his refusal.

But Damon remained firm.

Lyn stood up, his hands balled into fists.

"If you refuse to help, we will find him on our own."

Damon shook his head slowly.

"You would never survive the journey to Eidolon. And even if a miracle occurred and you arrived... your father wouldn't be there waiting for you."

He bit his lip in frustration.

He despised this reality.

He had taken several volumes from the Trial of Sin that had piqued his interest, though he hadn't finished them all.

One was titled *Ilyth the Insightful*.

That book was the physical manifestation of their father’s torment.

The siblings stared at him in confusion.

"We have to try," Lyn insisted. "We have prepared everything. We have magical implements and gathered mana cores for the trip."

Lazarak had already pieced the truth together, yet he hesitated, unsure if he should interfere between Damon and the pair.

Damon shook his head once more.

"The most vital lesson in planning is accepting the possibility of total failure," he said calmly. "The reality is that you will perish. However, destiny is a strange thing. As painful as this is, you deserve the truth."

He reached into his shadow storage.

Before they could protest, he produced a book crafted from human skin and muscle.

A faint, ragged gasp echoed from the object.

"In the third tier of Eidolon, there exists the Trial of Sin," Damon explained tonelessly. "This volume contains the chronicle of your father’s life and his perceived sins. But beyond that... this is the physical remains of his suffering."

The siblings froze, their complexions turning ghostly pale.

Damon held it out to them. He saw no reason to prolong the deception or offer false comfort. He hoped they possessed the strength to face it.

Lyn’s hands were shaking too violently to take the object.

Sithara reached out instead.

The title was inscribed in blood—her father’s blood.

Ilyth the Insightful.

The sound of shallow, pained breathing emanated from the pages.

As she touched the binding, the texture of the skin felt hauntingly familiar. Even the scent was unmistakable.

"Father..." she whispered.

She slowly looked up at Damon, her eyes searching his.

"May... may we read this?"

Damon gave a slight nod.

"It belongs to you," he replied quietly. "Do with it as you wish."