My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 828 - 829: Too Many Losing Heroines

Throughout her previous attempts, she had always managed to find her way to Sylvia’s cottage. Yet, without fail, their encounters ended in conflict.

It was simply an expected outcome.

Slowly, she reached up and yanked the bucket off her head. The pungent odor of beast dung clung to her hair and skin, sliding down in thick, nauseating clumps. Her hands hesitated for a brief moment as she set the bucket aside, and then her gaze rose.

A freezing stare shifted toward Sylvia.

"May I use your bath?"

Those were the first words she uttered.

Sylvia didn't even look particularly shocked; she merely pointed two fingers toward the rear of the cottage.

"It would be a tragedy if you continued to foul up my home with that stench."

Lilith offered no reply. She turned and strode past Sylvia, her boots making a faint squelching sound against the wood as she vanished into the bathing area.

A while later, she came out with damp hair plastered to her neck and shoulders, water droplets trailing down her collarbone. She had changed into a fresh set of clothes, though the sharp tension in her body remained.

"You look remarkably at ease," Lilith remarked, her sharp eyes scanning Sylvia.

She had a powerful urge to strike her. To beat her violently. The impulse coiled tightly within her chest. However, this white-haired elf was likely the only ally she could depend on.

Sylvia turned her head at a slow pace. Her grey eyes locked onto Lilith, unblinking.

"I could say the same about you."

She tilted her head slightly, a thin smirk appearing on her lips.

"Don’t you think it’s rude to barge into someone’s home uninvited?"

This time, Lilith refused to take the bait. She was exhausted. Tired of the bickering. Tired of the combat. Tired of replaying this exact conversation across numerous cycles of the world.

In every regression, no matter how much she attempted to alter the path, she and Sylvia always ended up at each other's throats.

"I suppose drenching a guest in monster dung is an elven custom," Lilith countered dryly.

Sylvia turned away, walking toward a small hearth. Pale white flames danced inside, casting a ghostly light over her features as she rested a hand upon the mantle.

"Why have you come here, Lilith Astranova?" she inquired softly.

"And earlier than anticipated, no less."

Lilith’s eyes moved to the floating tome hovering near Sylvia. A flash of disdain crossed her face.

"Don’t pretend to be ignorant," she stated.

"Aren’t you supposed to be a seer?"

Sylvia’s fingers twitched, a hint of annoyance breaking through her calm facade. She didn't turn around.

"And since when did seers become all-knowing?" she shot back.

"You want something from me. Speak up."

Lilith paused.

She was loath to reveal the depth of her desperation, but Sylvia was perhaps the only person capable of assisting her.

Slowly, she reached up to touch the flower tucked into her hair, her fingers stroking the petals with a touch of anxiety.

"I want to know what this is," she whispered.

"And what its true function is."

Sylvia lifted her head a fraction. Her white hair cascaded over her shoulders as she turned just enough to get a clear look at Lilith.

It was evident the flower had been activated many times. The petals were faded. Four of them had lost their radiance entirely.

"Hmmm," Sylvia hummed.

"And here I thought it was merely a bizarre fashion choice."

Lilith’s expression remained stony.

Naturally, Sylvia wouldn't help her out of the goodness of her heart. Once, she had viewed the timid elf girl as nothing more than a minor nuisance.

Who could have predicted she would snap and go completely mad.

No one could have accounted for such a variable.

'She’s like an entirely different person.'

"Apologies," Sylvia continued airily,

"But no. I think I’d rather watch you squirm."

Lilith’s hand balled into a fist at her side.

"Damon is going to die."

The statement fell with heavy weight.

Sylvia went still. Her body stiffened, and for a fleeting second, her mask of composure crumbled. Her face faltered.

"Y–you’re lying," she stammered, her voice tightening.

"He possesses the Deathless skill. He cannot die."

Lilith shook her head slowly.

"He found a way," she explained.

"Or he will. Deathless only functions on the condition that Damon actually wants to die."

She took a deep breath.

"You already know this. I’ve been utilizing this nameless flower to return repeatedly. But I cannot use it indefinitely. And even if I could, I can’t manage every variable."

"And the most unpredictable variable," Sylvia said softly,

"is Damon."

"Yes," Lilith agreed with a nod.

A heavy silence fell between the two.

Sylvia’s mind raced.

She despised Lilith Astranova, but not because Lilith had ever truly wronged her.

In reality, Lilith had done nothing to her.

It was simple jealousy.

Sylvia lacked nothing as a woman. Yet, Lilith could pull Damon away without even trying. He trusted her more. He shared more of his secrets with her.

And Sylvia had loved him longer than anyone. Even before she had realized it herself.

If Damon was ever forced to pick between them, she knew she would be the one left behind.

Her hands clenched into fists, her pale skin turning red.

"I really can’t stand you," she hissed.

"I can never understand what makes you so special."

Lilith remained silent. She was the one in need of a favor.

"Please," Lilith finally said, bowing her head.

The sight of her submission felt like a sharp twist in Sylvia’s chest. It felt like another defeat, even with her rival practically groveling before her.

"I truly hate you," Sylvia said coldly, folding her arms. Her features tightened, yet it only served to make her look more striking.

Time had eroded her innocence and naivety, leaving a beautiful woman sharpened by her trials.

"I know it seems petty to hate you for such a shallow reason," Sylvia continued, her voice shaking despite her efforts,

"but I do. I really do. I cannot see what is so great about you."

Her eyes shimmered slightly as she fought to maintain her dignity.

"Then why you?" she whispered.

"I know that if he ever had to select just one, I would be the losing heroine."

Lilith raised her head slowly. Deep exhaustion was etched into her face.

"To be honest," she said softly,

"I don’t know why either."

"I’m not more beautiful than you. At this moment, I can’t even claim to be more intelligent. I’m not wealthier. For all intents and purposes, I couldn't explain it."

Her fist tightened, reflecting Sylvia’s own frustration.

"But I can tell you this," Lilith added.

"He didn’t choose me either."

"When the moment arrived, he didn’t pick me. He used me. Then he discarded me."

Her hands shook, her eyes appearing cold and empty.

"When everything was settled, he preferred to choose his own death over living, even for my sake."

Sylvia had never expected to hear such a confession from Lilith Astranova.

This was Lilith. She didn't plead. She didn't break down.

Slowly, Sylvia shut her eyes. Then she reached a hand toward the hovering book at her side.

She held out her other hand toward Lilith.

"The flower," she commanded.

"Give it to me."

Lilith blinked, shock crossing her features at how quickly Sylvia had relented.

She didn't even attempt to degrade her further.

"Well?" Sylvia prompted.

"We don't have all the time in the world."

Lilith reached up hurriedly and tried to pull the flower away. A sharp pain shot through her scalp.

She tried once more.

It wouldn't move.

It was rooted.

Sylvia sighed.

"Figures," she remarked.

"You can't remove it. No surprise there."

Lilith bit her lip and took a seat at the small table opposite Sylvia.

"Still, it's not as if I needed to touch it to identify it," Sylvia muttered, flipping the book open with a scowl.

"Where exactly did you acquire this?" she asked, though she already suspected the truth.

Lilith crossed her arms.

"You’re asking where, not from whom," she noted.

"But the answer is obvious. I found it at an altar of the unknown god."

Sylvia gave a slow nod.

"Normally, this level of knowledge would demand a price from me," she said.

"Even with my two extra classes and new skills."

"But the one who sets the price," she glanced at the tome, "is unknown himself."

Lilith furrowed her brow.

"So you're saying he also has an interest in keeping Damon alive," she concluded, "which grants you freer access to this information."

Sylvia nodded. She pressed her hand firmly against the book.

"What is this flower?"

The tome vibrated slightly.

Sylvia almost instinctively waited for it to make a demand. It remained silent.

The Unknown desired the same outcome as they did.

Words and images began to weave themselves across the parchment.

She began to read aloud.

"Prototype Nameless Flower."

"His ambitions extend beyond a single pillar. Reaching for everything is inevitable. To that end, he created a method to interfere with the domains of other gods using only magic and Qi."

"What better place to test his prototype than the world of the Goddess of Doom, whose nature marks her as his bride, making her domain the simplest to manipulate."

Sylvia kept reading. The information assumed she already grasped the fundamentals. She didn't stop to think about it.

"This flower has the primary function of altering outcomes."

She looked at Lilith, who was listening with total focus.

"The Nameless Flower was never given a name by its maker. It regresses a person's consciousness into the past by shattering the fixed universe and rebuilding it anew, introducing minor changes to create different results."

Sylvia’s eyes narrowed as she reached the final sentence.

"Time is linear, simultaneous, and unbreakable."

"We are all prisoners of time."