My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 872 - 873: And Then—

Two weeks had elapsed since that day, and the majority of the chamber's cocoons had already hatched. Damon now commanded a formidable army of drones—or "shadows," as he had taken to calling them.

Their physical forms shifted according to their rank and designated purpose. While some appeared humanoid, others took on predatory, bestial shapes, and some were merely shifting silhouettes that clung to the stone walls.

Beyond simple combat types, various other specialized variants were possible.

There was an immense amount of experimentation to be done, yet time was a luxury he lacked.

Damon shifted his attention to the parchment held in his grip. A message had arrived from Abellona. The offensive was set to commence by sunset, only a few hours away.

Her network of informants—which was secretly under the thumb of Lilith Astranova—had reportedly detected movement from the Black Tower. Damon was skeptical that any actual scouting had taken place. It was far more likely a result of foreknowledge. Lilith had already experienced these events in a past life.

Regardless of the source, Sylvia Moonveil remained stationed at Abellona’s side.

Damon proceeded with his final arrangements. His refusal to return was partly due to his friction with Lilith, but the primary factor was Abellona’s directive. She had warned him to stay away until the negotiations with the demon heirs were finalized. It was Damon, after all, who had slain Amon, the very entity they served.

His presence would only trigger unnecessary aggression.

To be honest, that arrangement suited him perfectly.

As for Lilith, he would simply need to ensure their paths did not cross.

His main objective was still the same: the elixir of pseudo immortality.

Damon bound the spear Mutuwa in dark cloth and fastened it securely to his back. Its weight pressed against his shoulders, a heavy and familiar burden.

This weapon was his ticket out.

The spear had been crafted from a single strand of the goddess’s hair, forged into a tool of war by Lazarak.

This would be the instrument of his death.

He couldn't help but notice the irony. Deathless, the very skill that sustained him, was a gift granted by the Unknown God after he had been slain by the Goddess of Doom. Now, Damon planned to utilize Doom’s own power to terminate the life the Unknown God had forced upon him.

On the surface, the members of Damon’s cult stood prepared.

The final confrontation had arrived, just like that.

An abrupt hush fell over the city. It felt as though every soul could sense the impending tempest.

Damon prepared to depart and meet with his companions, delegating the management of both the shadows and the cult to Lazarak and the two children.

Matia trailed behind him. After all, his friends were her friends as well.

Walking the city streets, his footsteps thudding against the pavement, he felt a flicker of sadness regarding his time spent here.

"I suppose it will end soon.."

He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he opened them, the heavens had been transformed.

Colossal spheres of fire plummeted from the sky, trailing streaks of flame in every direction.

Hell was falling upon the city.

From his vantage point, Damon couldn't even register the blistering heat. Instead, he sensed something far more terrifying: the presence of several auras belonging to the fourth class advancement, descending upon the city like a divine sentence.

Rumble.

The ground shuddered under the impact of the falling fire. Structures collapsed without warning. On the broad thoroughfare where Damon stood, debris rained down on the panicked crowds.

A mother lunged to pull her youngster to safety, but she wasn't fast enough.

A stone the size of a melon shattered her skull, painting the pavement with blood. The young girl let out a piercing wail, her voice cutting through the mayhem as she sobbed for her mother.

Damon went still.

He hadn't anticipated this level of destruction.

He slowly tilted his head upward.

A figure draped in fire and bound in chains stood in the sky, staring down at the world below. He lifted an arm, getting ready to release another strike.

The inferno spread with terrifying speed. In this parched desert settlement, wooden homes and fabrics caught fire instantly. The air was filled with screams from every corner.

"They are destroying their own city.." Damon whispered, his chest tightening in shock.

The flaming man was not the only one.

Another figure hovered nearby, shielding himself with a parasol. With effortless movements, he manipulated the currents of the air. The fires swirled and coalesced, birthing massive firestorms.

They were employing the exact strategy Damon had once used against them: the synergy of fire and wind.

A towering cyclone of flame erupted and tore through the streets.

Damon watched its trajectory with growing dread.

It was moving directly toward the area where most of their people and resources were gathered.

"They are trying to cut off our supplies. This is not arrogance. It is a preemptive strike."

"Dammit."

Damon clenched his teeth and burst into a full sprint, his boots striking the stone as he raced forward. He considered for a second whether to release Matia from his shadow and command her to engage the two apostles in the air.

He quickly discarded the idea.

She was a full rank below them. In the open sky, she would be an easy target for snipers. This attack had been carefully orchestrated.

Damon reached into his shadow storage, his fingers closing around the hilt of his sword as he drew it.

He vaulted onto the rooftops while the terrified masses fled below, the panic outstripping the flames.

Pressing a hand to his ear, he triggered his brand to contact Abellona.

"Hey, princess... what the hell is going on? I thought we had more time."

Her voice sounded strained, drowned out by the sound of distant blasts.

"Your guess is as good as mine. It seems the enemy prepared before we did. This is earlier than expected, but everything is ready anyway."

Damon leaped over a rolling wave of fire and crashed through a burning window, glass spraying everywhere.

"Now what."

Her voice echoed through the connection.

"Rendezvous at my location. The supply line will most likely be destroyed, but that is not our only line of supply."

Damon tightened his jaw.

"Then let’s hope this doesn’t turn into a long battle. If it does, we’ll be sitting ducks."

He was about to continue when his shadow perception surged.

The Chained Knights were mobilizing. Every unit was pulling back toward the Black Tower.

Protective wards and magical seals flared around the structure in dense layers, as if the tower itself was bracing for a monumental event.

The atmosphere suddenly grew heavy.

The feeling of rejection pushing against Damon became overwhelming.

He could sense it.

Things were about to get much worse.

Elsewhere, Lilith stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the sky. Her face was serene, Sylvia standing by her side.

"The butterfly effect has begun," she remarked quietly. "Who would have thought the Archivist from Eidolon would survive his journey across the desert and arrive here on time. In the previous regression, he was killed by you when he ran into you."

She turned her gaze toward Sylvia.

"That did not happen this time because I left with you. Now Seraph Null knows."

.....

Damon halted in his tracks.

Something was emerging from the Black Tower. Something immense.

His eyes widened with pure terror.

Then, a voice rang out.

It was deep, ancient, and powerful enough to make the air vibrate.

"Lazarak. I know you are here, traitor god. Come out and face me, coward, or I will burn this city to the ground."

Wings began to unfurl.

They were so vast they made mountains look small. Each individual feather was larger than a massive oak tree.

"Seraph Null," Damon whispered, a cold sense of doom settling deep in his bones.