My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 837 - 838: Black Crow Base

The leader of the Black Crow was a man deeply rooted in superstition, a trait born from a lifetime of strange omens.

An itching palm always signaled a coming windfall of gold.

The crossing of a black cat was a precursor to death.

Whenever a black bird crossed his path, his wealth was sure to double.

Guided by countless signs such as these, he had successfully risen to become the most influential figure in the Yari outskirts.

Three centuries ago, when a lesser god had exiled him to this realm, he assumed his life was over. Being banished to this specific world dungeon was widely considered a death sentence. Nevertheless, he had managed to survive and thrive.

At the very least, he hadn't been cast into a nightmare like the imaginary prison, Eidolon.

Only the most depraved and dangerous entities were confined there—beings capable of shattering the very order of the world.

However, his luck had begun to falter in recent months. He had nearly lost his life until he encountered a raven with midnight feathers and a remarkably swift red squirrel.

Viewing them as auspicious omens, his fortunes didn't just stabilize—they surged.

Emboldened by this luck, he moved aggressively. Old enemies were eliminated, contracts were sealed with blood, and his authority within the Grinding Gate became absolute.

A smile played on his lips as the scent of a feast drifted through the hall. Soft cushions supported him as he reclined, watching the bright lights shimmer against the polished stone floor. All around him, his followers were lost in debauchery, drinking heavily and dancing with beautiful women.

The severed head of a massive desert beast they had slain served as the centerpiece of their celebration.

Its gouged-out eyes had been offered to the large black raven, which was currently pecking at them with indifference. Beside it, the red squirrel held a fleshy lump that looked suspiciously like a testicle, gnawing on it with clear enjoyment.

These two animals were credited with the Black Crows' incredible prosperity over the last few months.

They possessed a supernatural intuition for peril, sensing catastrophe long before it arrived.

It was as if they were accustomed to lingering near a living magnet for trouble.

"Stay by my side, you two," the Black Crow leader remarked, gesturing with his cup. "And you will continue to enjoy the high life."

The raven tilted its head back, letting out a haughty caw while smoothing its feathers, clearly relishing the praise.

Truly, this was the pinnacle of success.

The city was a dump, perhaps, but it was infinitely better than being anywhere near that monster, Damon Grey.

This was the life he deserved.

Suddenly, Croft’s instincts began to prickle.

The raven shifted its gaze toward the squirrel.

"Caw caw."

It suggested that it was time to move on.

The squirrel looked up, its cheeks bulging with meat, and stiffened in annoyance. It glared at the raven with squinted, beady eyes.

Leave? Why would they ever leave this?

The lifestyle was perfect. They had servants, tribute, and every comfort imaginable.

It was beyond great.

"Squeal squeal squeal."

A barrage of sharp, angry squeaks followed, as the squirrel insulted the pathetic raven for even thinking about returning to the streets.

As the animals bickered, the Black Crow leader raised his hand. The music stopped instantly, and the raucous laughter faded into a heavy silence.

"We have traveled a long road," he announced, his voice echoing through the room. "Our achievements are many."

"Yeahhh!"

"All hail the boss!"

"Boss, you are the greatest!"

"The Black Crow is invincible!"

As the cheers broke out, he grinned, soaking in their fanatical loyalty.

"However," he said, his tone shifting to one of gravity, "a new power is stirring in the darkness. I have been informed that their leader seeks me out and has commanded us, the mighty Black Crow, to submit to them."

The room went deathly quiet.

"Do you want to know my response?" He leaned in. "I say no."

"No! Never!" his men roared, hoisting their mugs in the air.

"I have intentionally leaked our coordinates to them," he revealed. "If they have the courage to show up, let them face me."

The celebratory mood returned, but the raven and squirrel had stopped their bickering. They stared at one another in stunned silence.

The same realization struck them both at once.

Wait... isn't this exactly the kind of trap that devil, Damon Grey, always sets?

Before they could react, an unnatural chill gripped the hall. The torches flickered wildly before being extinguished. Inside the stone chamber, snow began to drift down from the ceiling, coating the floor.

Frost clouded the walls. Every man's breath became a visible mist.

Only the fire at the center remained lit, throwing long, dancing shadows as the men drew their blades. Light-producing magic was cast, flooding the area with a harsh glow.

Standing in the center of the room were two figures.

One was a man dressed in obsidian armor, his long black hair cascading down his shoulders. Above his head floated a crown that looked like a jagged, dark halo. Behind him stood a knight encased in heavy black plate armor, the surface of which was covered in cracks that resembled frozen ice.

The knight was a woman.

Wings made of pure frost extended from her back, radiating a bone-chilling cold, while an icy greatsword rested in her hand.

The temperature dropped so low that breathing became difficult.

The Black Crow leader felt his heart sink.

They appeared formidable, but he wondered just how strong they could be.

They were only of the third class. He had several subordinates of that level. The only entities he truly dreaded were the King of Yari and those fourth-class monsters capable of leveling mountains.

He glanced toward his lucky charms, the raven and the squirrel, seeking reassurance.

As long as they stayed, he was safe.

But before he could finish the thought, the raven and squirrel blurred through the air, landing directly on the armored man’s shoulders. They began to cry out piteously, sounding as though they were pouring out a long list of grievances and complaints into his ears.

The man looked at them sideways, his lips twisting into a mocking sneer.

"You miserable pests," he muttered frostily. "It seems you’ve been living in luxury while I was rotting in the lowest depths of Eidolon."

The first part of the sentence was an insult.

The second part was a death knell.

Eidolon.

The Black Crow leader’s strength left him, and his legs buckled.

This wasn't some minor rival.

This was a nightmare from the imaginary prison.

"I—I give up!" he shrieked, falling to his knees. "Please, have mercy!"

His men watched in utter shock as their leader collapsed in terror before the two strangers.