My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 864 - 865: Wisp In The Metaverse

Damon had managed to escape that predicament by the grace of the goddess and her boundless compassion.

Somehow.

He now found himself participating in a strategic council. To be more precise, it was a summit-style assembly comprised of members from the goddess races.

Their objective, naturally, was to deliberate on their future course of action. While Damon might have typically been more guarded, he was convinced that Seraph Null was already aware of their movements. The lesser god likely wanted them all congregating in a single location so he could annihilate their rebellion in one fell swoop.

Absolute confidence is a natural byproduct of possessing absolute power.

Because of this, Damon saw no issue with concealing their ultimate trump card from the lesser god for the time being.

Regarding that secret weapon, Lazarak’s recovery of his power was exceeding all projections, fueled by the cult that was actively propagating his faith.

The chamber was filled with Damon’s companions and pupils from Aether Academy. Lilith, Renata, and Natch Wuta were among those present. They were joined by delegates from the Eldorian Magic Academy of the Magic Continent. Representatives from other surviving institutions had also arrived, including the beastkin Ishara Fang, several elves, and various other individuals Damon vaguely recognized.

The hall was packed to capacity.

He saw many familiar faces.

He also noted many who were missing.

Abellona cleared her throat, her crimson eyes scanning the expansive hall. The individuals gathered here represented the most potent and influential figures of the current resistance movement.

"I appreciate everyone's presence. Today’s agenda is packed, and the decisions we make here may determine our very survival."

As she turned her head, projection magic ignited, casting shimmering images into the air above the conference table.

Damon’s eyebrows shot up. He was impressed; he hadn't realized they possessed anyone capable of maintaining projection magic at such a sophisticated level.

His gaze shifted toward the young knight sustaining the enchantment. She was a petite girl with a short blonde bob, sitting with a rigid, focused posture.

With a wave of Abellona’s hand, the visual display shifted.

"This is the nightmare of Lazarak. I assume everyone here heard that voice upon first waking within this world’s dungeon, including the rewards it pledged."

A ripple of agreement spread through the room. It had been a seductive proposal, offering power that most of them could never hope to achieve under ordinary circumstances.

Abellona’s hand tightened into a fist.

"The promised reward was a fourth class advancement. A guarantee that any survivor would attain it."

She bit her lip in frustration. As the imperial princess and the leader of this summit, she was well aware of who was behind that promise.

The realization sat poorly with her.

This was blatant heresy. The temple would undoubtedly stir up trouble over this. However, this wasn't a case of a single heretic; it involved her and the offspring of the world's most powerful elites. To strike at them under such a pretext would be to declare war on the entire world.

Evangeline folded her arms across her chest.

"The unknown god. The one the demon races revere."

Damon mirrored her posture, crossing his arms.

"Technically, even the demons don't truly worship him. But yes, it’s him. Personally, I never received that promise. Since I was the last to enter that abyss, I was mostly out cold when it happened."

Emilia Highgon nervously gnawed on her finger.

"We don't exactly have the luxury of declining the rewards. What can the temple really do? Do they expect us to commit suicide? That’s absurd. I’d prefer we concentrate on our immediate threats. There’s no guarantee we’ll survive long enough to even see those rewards."

Sylvia gave a slow nod, her fingers tracing the edges of her book.

"Then perhaps we should address the fundamental questions. Where are we currently, and what is the plan to return home? Preferably alive."

Xander sat beside Emilia, his arms crossed tightly.

"Those black entities. Do you recall them from the ruins of Lysithara?"

He directed the question toward his teammates.

"I do," Damon answered, his tone turning grave.

Evangeline’s eyes sharpened.

"Those dark beings that manifested from the rift in Lysithara whenever they detected light."

A heavy silence descended upon the room.

Most of those present knew very little about the truth of Lysithara. The Path of Kings was considered an ancient ruin and a forbidden death zone. It was a place from which no one returned.

Except for Damon and his group.

"The servants of Ittorath," Sylvia remarked.

As she uttered the name, a strange shiver ran down her spine, as if a distant entity had momentarily cast its gaze her way. She shook it off. It was likely just intuition; he wasn't there.

"Ittorath?" Abellona inquired, echoing the confusion felt by many others.

Damon let out a weary sigh, rubbing his temple as a familiar ache began to throb.

"Ittorath is an interloper from beyond the heavens. During the First Epoch, he waged war against the Ascendants before being imprisoned by Valarie and Valcara."

He leaned back, taking on the role of the informant.

"Ittorath is a nightmare. I don't mean that as a metaphor. He is a literal nightmare. He originated as someone’s dream that achieved physical form and self-awareness within a realm called the metaverse. Those black entities are nightmares themselves."

The room became deathly still.

Sylvia picked up the explanation where he left off.

"Conceptually, every person here has birthed a nightmare in the metaverse at some point through a bad dream. However, because we are insignificant in the grand scheme of things, our nightmares are nothing more than harmless flickers."

Ishara Fang finally spoke up, her face drained of color.

"If he was that powerful, then whose nightmare was this Ittorath?"

Sylvia’s eyes shifted momentarily toward Lilith.

"My best guess is that Ittorath was a nightmare spawned by the unknown god. Perhaps just a trivial thought, but still a manifestation of his tormented psyche."

A collective gasp filled the room.

The mere suggestion was bone-chilling.

"May the Goddess protect us," someone muttered under their breath.

"And that leads us to the primary concern," Lilith said deliberately. "The massive black entity that swallowed us was also a nightmare. As you all recall, it was also summoned by the unknown god. In fact, he appeared in person, using the priestess of the Snake Temple as a vessel."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

They all remembered that aura. It surpassed simple dread. Their hearts hadn't even processed fear.

True fear was too noisy.

Their only instinct had been a desperate hope not to be noticed by him.

Abellona exhaled deeply.

"All of this leaves us with more riddles than answers. However, it is safe to assume we are currently inside the body of that colossal nightmare. As for this realm, it has likely merged with the dungeon gate."

She leaned forward, placing her hands firmly on the table.

"The question now is whose nightmare we are currently inhabiting. And more importantly, who exactly is this Lazarak?"

Damon raised a hand casually.

"Oh. Right. I should probably mention that."

A faint smirk played on his lips.

"Lazarak is a friend of mine."

Every head in the room snapped toward him.