My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 878 - 879: His Return

Preparations were set on both fronts for the ultimate showdown—it represented the closing phase.

From Damon's own perspective, his longing for the pseudo-immortality elixir burned the strongest, though he shared that desire with plenty of others. Numerous individuals fixated on it, even without grasping its essence.

Chatter about the prize already reached his ears. Aristocratic youths aimed to claim it for their clans as a symbol of triumph. They planned to barter it with mightier houses for opportunities to climb higher in status.

Explorers sought noble status and could secure it without much effort. Fanatics yearned to offer it to the sanctuary, dreaming of gaining divine approval and the ensuing prizes.

Others firmly believed possession would grant eternal life, rendering them immortal.

Speculations abounded. Venturing into a realm dungeon aimed to secure renown, scarce materials, and naturally, enhanced strength.

This harrowing ordeal delivered everything: the elixir itself, the glory from conquering such an extraordinary challenge, and ultimately the supreme prize, a blessing bestowed by the enigmatic deity.

Ascending to the fourth class evolution.

Such advancement meant true might. Fourth-class beings often served as dominant forces, playing key roles as commanders in conflicts. Matters had escalated to where even an outsider at fourth rank faced constant surveillance for security.

This constituted genuine authority, and endurance until the conclusion was all that stood in the way.

Far simpler in words than in execution.

A barrage of enchanted strikes hurtled from the foes' fortified positions.

Xander hoisted his shield, joined by the dense array of frontline defenders, each bolstered by enchantments from the spellcasters positioned to the rear.

They wielded massive shields, erecting a sturdy wall, while support casters mended any harm they endured.

Once their barriers faltered, the sorcerers and bowmen unleashed their counterattack.

Such exchanges had persisted over the previous three hours.

Yet it proved futile, as neither faction inflicted real harm. In truth, it boiled down to a war of endurance, with Damon's group destined to crumble first.

Xander peered at him over the edge of his enormous shield.

"How long do we have to hold out?"

Damon lifted his gaze, scanning the horizon where Renata had hidden both herself and Lilith amid the turmoil and haze. Their presence escaped detection.

"Any moment now..." he whispered.

Suddenly, a purple glow enveloped everything as Renata eroded the adversary's shield. The instant it weakened, Lilith extended her arm, unleashing a surge of sorcery into the atmosphere.

[Void Scythe]

A void-forged scythe materialized in her grasp, and she hurled it without pause, the dark essence slamming against the protective field.

A deafening crack, akin to fracturing glass, resounded, and the barrier's leading portion shattered like splintered gems.

The bound warriors stood frozen in disbelief.

Damon signaled to Xander, who thrust his spear upward.

"Forward..."

His bellow ignited the group, and with a solid phalanx of shields leading, they surged into the melee as shafts and arcane bursts hammered their guards.

The bound warriors comprehended their defense had vanished. No longer a blockade, it transformed into direct combat, prompting a shift in strategy.

The overseer commanding them lifted his arm.

"Rebuild the barrier. Front unit, push ahead."

He issued the command, but Damon materialized at his back and drove a blade into his torso. Still, as a fourth-class fighter, he evaded fatally, blood streaming from his wound as he swung a fist at Damon.

Damon grinned and vanished in a blink before the overseer could connect.

A pale arrow struck his skull as Sylvia fractured her bow, reshaping it into paired swords.

He perished in outrage, a fourth-class elite felled so ignobly, caught off guard by two third-class foes.

Though the shield lay broken, superiority remained elusive. The bound forces boasted superior gear and battle-hardened discipline.

Thus, their edge began to slip away.

Suddenly, silhouettes of soaring forms emerged from the rooftops.

From overhead, the flying unit rained projectiles into the heart of the opposing ranks.

This was Abellona, directing the winged members in a skyward strike. The bound warriors had discarded ranged weapons for close-quarters, now forced to counter threats from the heavens.

One of their leaders spotted the danger and bellowed.

"Mages, form up. Mages, form up."

Sorcerers rushed to unite amid the swift, disordered skirmish. Tension gripped the air; a tumble meant being crushed underfoot. Crimson drenched the earth, blades and spells colliding with the fury of storm-born thunder.

Doom from above, sky-based maneuvers. Such tactics typically favored demons and avian folk like the fae, with demons excelling most.

The cause lay in most demonic lineages possessing wings, making flight instinctive, whereas divine lineages featured wings in select groups, not universally.

Nevertheless, this marked merely the beginning, and Damon aimed to exploit his momentum.

A prime moment for the Staff of Carnage had passed, already expended against Seraph Null.

Even so, he extended his palm and released a deluge of ebony fire.

Cries rang out as forms reduced to cinders.

The system's chime sounded once more.

[You have slain Tatin of the Chained]

[You have slain ...]

[You have slain...]

...

Damon prepared to press toward the obsidian spire when cloaked individuals emerged, intoning hymns to Seraph Null.

Then they performed the inconceivable.

They drew blades and thrust them into their chests.

"In the great god’s mercy, we call his angels."

They crumpled into spreading crimson pools, and as they did, the clamor of war hushed. The vital fluid swirled in a forming ring.

When Damon detected it, dread drained the color from his features.

This was invocation sorcery.

From the ritual, ethereal forms emerged, bizarre winged beings evoking the mirror seraph.

Upon full manifestation, each bore spears, and they dove into the conflict without delay. Some ascended to challenge Abellona and her flyers, while others crashed into the beleaguered terrestrial clash.

Their arrival unleashed havoc through sweeping strikes that carved paths of ruin. Bodies plummeted from the aerial duel, and the earthbound troops faced utter rout.

Damon clenched his jaw, then invoked his mark.

He had hoped to avoid deploying them, but necessity demanded it.

At the battlefield's fringe, as despair loomed, Damon drew in a steadying breath.

Then—

"Frost dominate."

A chilling, malevolent tone reverberated, and with it, towering ice spears erupted, skewering all in their trajectory.

That voice sent shivers through every listener. He had emerged from death's clutches yet again.

"Haahahhah..." the icy, wicked timbre resounded.

"Die."

One figure stiffened in horror.

"It... it’s Amon..."

The bound warriors puzzled over their instinctive dread, but the divine lineages recognized the terror he inspired.

Amon the Unknown Ruler, rumored to be Ashcroft reborn.

The demonic flyers observed in reverence as he mounted a subordinate fiend, then gestured broadly.

Wyvern beasts materialized from thin air. Hundreds of silver-clad knights followed, accompanied by obsidian-armored ones.

Amon had reemerged, his potency undiminished.

The Unknown Ruler returned.

Damon observed his shadow duplicate Amon basking in splendor. Fortune favored his gamble in forging another shadow copy fused with the Faceless ability.

Damon maintained a contingency should events veer off course.

Victory now tilted in their favor.

Regarding his legion of shadow constructs, he never intended their link to him. Discovery of their mechanics would spell complications, particularly if the sanctuary amassed further suspicions against him.

Moreover, he had cast his shadow duplicate as the antagonist. That served its purpose.

Still, Damon scowled. Superiority restored, yet reaching the ebony tower demanded focus.

As thoughts swirled, his shadow duplicate surveyed the chaos from an elevated perch, spotting an anomaly.

Lilith and Sylvia were absent from view.

"What are they scheming this time..."

Locating them proved challenging, but Amon arrived with company. He brought Lyn and Sithara as aides.

They had collaborated with Lazarak to assemble this shadow force, granting deeper insight into its capabilities.

Lyn eyed him.

"What, is something amiss?"

Damon shook his head deliberately.

"No, nothing major. Stick near me, I'll keep you safe."

Sithara showed little concern. Her attention fixated on the wyvern-resembling war machines' prowess.

Down in the thick of it, Damon lacked leisure for frets.

He looked skyward, reaching out to Abellona.

"I’m heading into the tower."

No response came.

Yet he trusted she registered his words.