My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 823 - 824: Old Habits Die Hard

"Hold on... how is it that I’ve never realized this until now?" Damon questioned, shifting his gaze toward the toddler-sized god who, surprisingly, possessed deep insight into his specific attribute.

‘I need to stop underestimating these gods,’ he reflected with a touch of melancholy.

Lazarak gave an annoyed shrug, though Damon’s acknowledgment had clearly stroked his ego. He felt a sense of satisfaction knowing his wisdom was finally proving useful.

He had been growing somewhat disheartened by Damon’s extensive knowledge on so many topics, which rarely left the god any room to demonstrate his own brilliance.

"It isn't my fault you’re incompetent. You were handed all this power, yet you’ve been using a battle axe just to slice vegetables," Lazarak remarked.

He seized the opportunity to boast as much as possible while he had the upper hand.

Damon clenched his jaw in frustration.

"Things are more complex than that. Human biology involves numerous organs; many function without us understanding the mechanics, only that they work."

Lazarak dismissed the explanation with a roll of his eyes, relishing the moment he finally gained leverage over Damon’s arrogant attitude.

"Don't try to play the intellectual with me."

Damon let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as perspiration dripped down his skin.

Lyn and Sithara exchanged a brief look but remained silent, choosing instead to preserve their dwindling energy.

Lazarak’s expression shifted, becoming uncharacteristically grave as he looked at Damon.

"Furthermore, it’s not as if you could have utilized that attribute even if you had desired to. A fundamental dissonance exists between your nature and your own power."

Damon’s brow furrowed at Lazarak’s sudden change in tone.

"What exactly are you implying?"

Stopping in his tracks, Lazarak kicked up a small cloud of dust as he pointed a finger toward Damon.

"You are the bottleneck for your own strength. The Umbral attribute is capable of modifying souls far beyond mere shadow manipulation; its true excellence lies in the act of creation—or more accurately, rewriting."

He momentarily closed his eyes, then gave a slow shake of his head.

"At your very core, you are a wanderer. You lack a sense of belonging anywhere, and because of that, you never establish roots."

Lazarak tilted his head back. The intense sunlight seemed to be swallowed by the deep darkness of his divine robes.

"Your refusal to settle down, to govern, or to define a space has placed a ceiling on your potential."

This contradicted Damon’s personal philosophy. He lived by the belief that true strength was forged through suffering and that mortality was the only certainty. To him, defiance was far superior to a life of submission.

How could he ever plant roots when he viewed everything as fleeting? This worldview drove him to take whatever he desired, never bothering to build lasting connections with people or locations.

"That is your flaw," Lazarak stated, his obsidian eyes locked onto Damon’s. "You are an expert at taking, but you do not build. That is what is shackling your power."

Damon exhaled sharply, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"So what is it I’m supposed to construct? That isn't in my nature. My initial class was Death Dealer—a merchant of blood and a purveyor of demise. I cannot simply transform my identity on a whim."

He bit his lip in contemplation.

"My second class was Death Seeker. Through every trial I endured, my deepest desire was ultimately self-destructive. Now, my third class is Usurper. That represents my urge to seize everything while giving nothing back."

He let out a dismissive scoff, feeling more irritated than enlightened.

"For the time being, I can practice interacting with and altering souls. I still possess a few shades, so we’ll see what results from that. As for manifesting a world of shadows through my attribute, it sounds incredibly powerful, but I doubt I have the capacity to create anything significant with my current level of power."

There was no reason to rush the process. Even someone like Lilith Astranova didn't fully grasp the depths of her own attribute and stigmata, relying mostly on a handful of spells and class skills.

The technique that had most impressed him was her ability to warp space between her palm and her eyes to spy on him from a distance.

Lazarak stared out toward the horizon.

"Do you not think such a magnificent gift was bestowed upon you for a reason? You hold the twin powers of death and creation within your grasp."

"It was certainly given to me for a reason," Damon countered. "But I seriously doubt that reason was a kind one."

This power was a legacy from the Unknown God. How could a gift be purely benevolent when the deity who granted it was anything but?

Just as Lazarak prepared to respond, a shadow raced back across the ground to Damon’s feet. The fluid, inky shape merged with his own shadow and began making frantic gestures.

Damon nodded, a faint, cold smile touching his lips.

‘I see. Quite intriguing. That will suffice.’

He turned his attention to Lyn and Sithara. Their garments were drenched in sweat, and their faces were flushed from the oppressive heat.

"Good news. Your target has been located, and you're in luck. It should serve its purpose."

Damon raised an arm, pointing toward the far distance.

"You will follow my shadow and engage a target beyond those dunes."

He gestured toward sand dunes so distant that Sithara could barely make them out through the shimmering heat haze.

Even though they were nearing their first class advancement and had reached the limit of what ordinary humans could achieve, the trek ahead appeared daunting.

Damon, however, suffered no such visual limitations. He could see the area with perfect clarity. At that distance, he could have precisely shot the wings off a dragonfly without killing the insect.

Reaching into his shadow storage, he retrieved several vials.

"These are potions for healing and stamina recovery. If you win, you survive. If you fail, Lazarak and I will be too far away to intervene."

This was a complete fabrication. At their current power levels, Damon and Lazarak could have reached the dunes in an instant, but neither of them corrected the statement.

Lazarak frowned and raised his hand, weaving threads of darkness into protective armor around the two children.

"This will negate exactly one fatal blow. That is all the protection it provides."

The children nodded solemnly, their expressions full of resolve.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Damon tossed them a pair of daggers.

"For when things get close. A magic user who allows themselves to be caught in a melee is as good as dead. Do not let that happen."

Following a series of stern warnings and conflicting instructions, Damon and Lazarak watched as the children began their march toward potential doom, trailing the shadow across the burning sands.

Matia observed the scene from behind in silence.

"Is this what it feels like to have children, Damon?" Lazarak inquired.

Damon shook his head.

"I wouldn't know. I have no intention of ever having any."

Lazarak glanced sideways at him.

"It is perfectly fine to show that you care. No one is going to view you as weak for it."

Damon closed his eyes.

"Old habits are hard to break."