My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 874 - 875: Battle Of Gods

Damon came to a realization.

Success was impossible for him, and he accepted that. There was no way he could bridge the gap of several ranks to challenge a literal deity.

As one progressed through class advancements, the distance between ranks didn't just grow—it became an insurmountable wall. Power ceased to scale in a straight line and instead began to surge with violent intensity. That disparity made any hope of victory a fantasy.

A third class could never hope to bring down a seventh class.

That law was etched into the very fabric of the universe.

However, Damon didn't need to do it.

Lazarak was capable of it.

And by the looks of things, Lazarak had arrived in a state of pure fury.

This was the god who loathed the world’s cycle of meaningless, eternal war. He was the one who had staged a solitary rebellion and nearly won, all without taking the life of a single mortal or god.

Now, he stood before another divinity once again.

The very atmosphere let out a scream as Lazarak yanked on Seraph Null’s chains.

Astral winds exploded outward as the gargantuan god was ripped from the heavens and driven into the dirt. The ground shattered like glass upon impact. Entire structures crumbled, reduced to piles of debris in a heartbeat.

The Chained stood paralyzed in silence as they watched their god being dominated from the very start of the encounter.

"Hehh... huah... bahha..."

Despite the situation, Seraph Null let out a laugh.

"How pathetic you are, Lazarak. You speak of showing me my constraints, yet you stood by as thousands perished. That is why you are a failure."

Lazarak recognized that the god was attempting to shake his resolve before the true battle commenced.

He remained motionless within the massive crater that Damon’s previous strike had carved into the metropolis.

"If you are talking about the citizens of this district," Lazarak replied with a calm tone, "then I must disappoint you. I warped them away before making my appearance. Look around you, Prison God."

The wings of Seraph Null shifted as he scanned the city.

Something was definitely wrong.

There were no women present. No children. No elderly. No wounded. Every civilian incapable of combat was gone.

Only those who relied on the blade remained.

"You moved everyone..."

Seraph Null whispered, his voice vibrating through the heavens.

A faint smile touched Lazarak’s lips.

"I understand my friend well enough to know he would trigger a massive expulsion. He certainly has a knack for the dramatic."

The chains that formed Seraph Null’s physical form ground against one another, pulsing with rage.

Lazarak turned his head slightly toward his companion.

"Damon. I will handle him. You take care of the rest."

Damon began to protest, but he was silenced by Lazarak’s smile. Shadows fluttered around Lazarak’s body like living silken robes.

"Let me show you," Lazarak whispered softly, "my power. The power of a god."

He opened his arms and began to lift them slowly.

Something began to rise on the horizon.

No. It wasn't just "something."

It was Darkness.

It surged upward from every direction, consuming the sky as it ascended. When it reached the sun, the entire world was plunged into shadow. The day was forcibly collapsed into an eclipse.

The sun had been approaching dusk, yet night arrived in an instant.

Seraph Null let out a roar and bolted skyward, climbing higher and higher. His wings thrashed the air, creating dust storms that stretched for miles.

"I am the god of this domain, Lazarak," he boomed. "My word is law. By my decree, it is day."

These weren't just the words of an arrogant being.

Reality itself obeyed him.

The eclipsed sun vanished, only to rise once more from the horizon, burning brightly at its peak. Its radiance scorched away the encroaching dark.

Lazarak’s brow furrowed slightly. A small trail of blood leaked from his nose, but he stayed on his feet.

Faith provided Lazarak with strength, even while he was far from his peak Cultivation.

The sound of rattling chains filled the air.

"My followers," Seraph Null proclaimed, "these heretics give strength to a traitor god who defies our creator, the Goddess of Doom. Slay them. Strip him of his stolen power. Butcher them all."

The moment of stunned awe broke.

Damon threw out his hand and turned the nearest Chained Knight to ash where it stood.

"Advance on the Black Tower," he ordered. "Wipe out his seat of power."

His voice cut across the entire battlefield. Lifting his charm, he spoke again, ensuring his words reached every corner of the city.

"Advance to the Black Tower."

The sky erupted in violent flashes as darkness clashed with the massive, chain-bound angelic entity. Clouds were shredded. The winds wailed.

"Slay your way to the Black Tower," Damon bellowed. "Show this being of the lower realm the true might of the children of Aetherus."

War cries broke out everywhere.

Magic exploded. Steel met steel. The city was swallowed by the tides of war.

Anyone who didn't belong to their side was a target. That was the only reality that mattered now.

Abellona thrust her spear through the skull of a Chained Knight, her crimson eyes glowing with intensity. Blood sprayed as warriors leaped between roofs in superhuman skirmishes.

The high heavens belonged to the gods.

The lower sky and the streets belonged to the mortals.

Leona triggered her Sovereign Mantle, lightning sparking from her skin as she moved in blinding teleportation flashes. Her blade carved paths of ruin, leaving scorched remains in her wake.

Beside her, Wendy hacked through the opposition with her bone sword, shattering and tearing Chained Knights apart until the path was paved with broken corpses.

Damon clenched his teeth.

"The Black Tower. I must reach the Black Tower."

The streets were pure chaos. Blood soaked the earth. Buildings fell like a row of dominos. The scent of decay, smoke, and charred meat filled the air.

He dove out of the way as a body, impaled by rising metal spikes, crashed into the ground with its eyes wide in death.

Damon merged into the shadows, blinking through alleys and over rooftops, slaying anything that dared to block his way.

In one narrow passage, a line of skeletons formed a defensive wall as the demon necromancer Kashi fought alongside a young elf from the Silver Glades. Past rivalries were cast aside in the struggle for life.

Damon bolted toward a broad thoroughfare.

When he arrived, he found nothing but a sea of bodies.

In the center of the road, perched atop a pile of the freshly slain, was a man holding a parasol.

"Ah," the man remarked in a pleasant tone. "I have been searching for you. We have some unfinished business."

It was the Wind Apostle.

Before Damon could even react, a pillar of golden light hit the ground next to him.

Evangeline stood there, protected by her Duskglass armor, with her Sovereign Mantle fully active.

"That's funny," she said with a cold edge. "I was just about to say the same thing."

Damon looked at her with a frown.

She simply shook her head.

"Go. This one is mine."

"He is fourth class," Damon whispered.

She moved forward, her sword dropping into a combat stance.

"Good," she replied. "That makes him a target worth killing."

Damon tightned his jaw.

Her chances were slim, but—

"I will see you at the Black Tower."

She didn't look back, her eyes locked onto her prey.