My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 879 - 880: Within This Room

Damon entered the tower. The moment he crossed the archway, it seemed like the very fabric of space had flipped upside down.

Glancing behind him, he saw that the entrance had vanished completely.

He let out a scoff laced with contempt.

"Such a simple trick with space. How truly inventive."

Tricks like this no longer fazed Damon; he had long surpassed the stage where they could astonish him.

Scanning his surroundings, he found the area shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by several radiant doors that undoubtedly connected to various places.

Damon halted, attempting to guess which door Sylvia and Lilith might have selected, yet after pondering it briefly, he abandoned the effort and picked one at random.

Upon opening his eyes, he discovered himself inside a chamber brimming with suspended chains.

Advancing ahead, he noticed a silhouette perched upon a grand throne.

"The chances of you picking the door that brings you straight to me are slim. This must be fate's doing."

The voice came from the figure on the throne.

He was a massive individual, a chain draped around his neck while others coiled about his torso, linking to a pair of swords clearly bound by those chains.

This appeared to be some kind of enchanted relic. It sent a shiver through Damon upon sight, accompanied by the profound and intense presence of someone at the fourth class advancement.

"Fate, you say. Perhaps it is. I simply didn't anticipate you'd suffer such bad luck," Damon responded with steady composure.

The man arched his eyebrows before erupting into hearty laughter.

"You're quite the bold one, aren't you? It's uncommon to witness such bravado from a lich who stands below my power."

The man tilted his head downward, gazing upon Damon from above.

"Your end will be more audacious than that of most."

Damon let out another scoff, shaking his head in dismissal.

"Going out meekly would be tragic. Humility isn't strength; it's just evidence of a life spent being trampled. And even more crucially..."

Damon halted, lifting his gaze toward the man.

"Who in the world are you?"

A prolonged, quiet moment hung from the man. Then, he exploded into laughter once more.

"Hahah... hahaha teeeeeee haha..."

He brushed away a tear from the corner of his eye.

"Now it makes sense why you're so full of yourself. Of course you wouldn't recognize me. Alright then, it wouldn't be right to let you perish without knowledge."

He lifted his hand, a icy glint flashing in his eyes.

"I command this city as the prison god's trusted aide, wielder of chains, sovereign of brands, ruler of the bound chambers. I am the High Prophet."

Damon exhaled deeply, a throbbing ache building in his temples.

"Alright. I'm Damon."

No shift crossed the man's features. Damon had hoped for a flicker of dread, but instead, he observed only a serene, almost weary expression.

"Do you grasp that today marks your demise?"

Damon shrugged indifferently.

"Perhaps. Though not at your hand."

He moved ahead as the High Prophet rose from his seat. The chains encircling his form started to shine with a crimson hue.

Damon drew in a steady breath and reviewed his present statistics.

[HP: 24,995 / 17,955]

[Mana: 55,567 / 15,754]

[Strength: 31,124]

[Agility: 23,157]

[Speed: 33,985]

[Endurance: 34,210]

[Class: Usurper]

[Shadow: 1,900]

[Shadow Hunger Levels: 10%]

[Shadow Level: 19]

[Condition: Shadow Is Fed]

[Attributes: Umbral, Domination Fragment]

[Skills:]

[5x] [Remorseless] [Shadow Perception] [Water Celebration] [Sacrifice] [Shadow Control] [Parkour] [Shadow Armor] [Beholder’s Gaze] [Dead Eye] [Spirit Affinity] [Ashborn] [Omen of Dread] [Dealer’s Hand] [Bloodletting] [Shadow Movement] [Shadow] [Faceless] [Danger Sense] [Shadow Storage] [Wave Walk] [Shadow Clone] [Blitz] [Flash Step] [Air Walk] [Appraisal] [Iron Bones] [Astral Projection] [Accel] [Terror Engine] [Vengeance] [Soul Tongue] [Eyes of Veracity] [Shadow Stride] [Soul Conduit] [Heart of Shadow] [Demon Dominate] [Shadow Seizer]

[Mastery:]

[Etiquette Lv3] [Swordsmanship Lv7] [Survival Lv10] [Persuasion Lv2] [Deception Lv3] [Bartering Lv2] [Theft Lv3] [Archery Lv5] [Trap Lv5] [Alchemy Lv1] [Dagger Arts Lv5] [Cooking Lv2] [Basic Magic Lv5] [Mana Control Lv7] [Magic Gatling Lv5] [Pain Resistance Lv6] [Mental Contamination Resistance Lv5] [Disintegration Resistance Lv3] [Sniper Lv5] [Rune Magic Lv3] [Insanity Lv4] [Fate Manipulation Resistance Lv2] [Ravenous Lv Max] [Poison Resistance Lv6] [Elemental Resistance Lv3] [Petrification Resistance Lv5] [Magic Resistance Lv5] [Curse Resistance Lv2] [Pressure Resistance Lv2] [Corruption Resistance Lv5] [Aura Farming Lv4] [Charisma Lv9] [Tyranny Lv3] [Ragebaiting Lv5] [Shadow Manipulation Lv1]

[Items:]

[Pale Crown Armor] [Broken Bonds] [Deep Quiver] [Silver Blades] [Staff of Carnage] [Sword of Nicolas] [Furnace of Frost] [Helm of Balero] [Womb of Healing] [Charms] [Potions] [Miscellaneous Items]

[Quest:]

[Path to Conflict] [Nightmare of Lazarak]

His mana reserves remained insufficient. He strained to restore as much as possible, yet without surrounding mana, the task proved challenging. By now, he had fully tempered his third class physique.

Regarding his foe, Damon sensed this individual might be the strongest in the fourth class across this realm.

With vast combat expertise, he promised to be a formidable adversary.

"You dare challenge me. I respect your courage," the High Prophet declared, assuming a combat posture.

Damon inclined his head gradually.

"So be it."

He produced a coin.

"We'll battle fairly. The fight begins once it touches the floor."

The High Prophet agreed with a nod.

As Damon flung the coin skyward, his gaze instinctively tracked its path. In that instant, he released a surge of Ashborn fire, a thunderous blast resounding.

Seizing the momentum, he summoned a towering ice column via Ice Dominate.

[5x] triggered, boosting his velocity as he unleashed maximum havoc in the brief window.

He struck downward using Dealer’s Hand, enveloping the edge in fiery wrath.

"Midnight."

He executed the second stance of the Brightwater method.

Crimson liquid flowed as Bloodletting engaged, inflicting a hemorrhage on the enemy.

Yet that fell short. His weapon halted abruptly. No matter his swift assaults, nothing lethal connected.

The High Prophet had countered and parried, permitting only slight harm.

Fury contorted his visage.

"Such treachery. Have you no honor or warrior's spirit?"

Damon cocked his head to the side.

"Honor? What's that? I take pride in lacking any pride."

Irritation flared in the High Prophet. He had never encountered a fighter so utterly without shame or integrity.

"Very well. So shall it be. Your death will be that of a spineless fool."

The chains encircling him stirred as he unsheathed his dual swords. Both linked by luminous chains, vivid scarlet akin to fresh blood or a dying summer sun.

The instant his rival lunged, Damon parried with his fractured sword. Showers of sparks illuminated the dim space, the dangling chains clanging furiously.

In sheer brute force, Damon couldn't compete and was hurled backward. Still, leveraging parkour prowess, he touched down on a column's rim and propelled himself away, shattering it with a sonic crack that crumbled its base.

Twisting mid-flight, he loosed multiple arcs of blade essence.

His adversary evaded, launching his own sword as the chains pulsed with intense scarlet light.

Damon narrowly evaded, the strike veering to clip him even at full pace.

His protective gear buckled. Blood erupted from the gash.

Clenching his jaw, he treaded upon the empty air via Air Walk while hurling both inferno bursts and an icy spire.

Under usual circumstances, he avoided deploying Domination powers. But here, only he and his opponent remained.

No reason existed to restrain himself.

Against this mighty rival, he would unleash his full arsenal.

And he would slay him.

Next, he would press deeper into the tower to claim the pseudo-immortality elixir.

All his efforts had led to this point. So tantalizingly near.

Just one barrier stood in his path.

This warrior.

"And soon, a lifeless one."

"Is this your ability, Damon," the man observed, "or some arcane incantation?"

The High Prophet sneered.

While pursuing Damon through the skies, toppling supports, the tower's innards started crumbling under their clash's might, chains thrashing in chaos.

"As if I'd reveal that. Probing your foe for details is standard strategy."

Damon dissolved into darkness right as the blade nearly scored his cheek, a faint blood line forming as he rematerialized across the chamber.

"Alright then. Have it your way. Still, I'd like to learn the elixir's location. Killing you without reward would be pointless hassle."

The resonant words caused the High Prophet to hesitate briefly. Then, a chuckle escaped him.

"Ahhh. Such hubris. Or perhaps madness. So, you're implying restraint on your part?"

Damon nodded deliberately.

"We haven't pushed to our limits yet. You're withholding your true strength as well, right?"

The High Prophet hesitated, then affirmed with a nod.

"Agreed. You've piqued my curiosity now."

He gestured toward a certain path.

"Head that direction, and you'll arrive at the elixir's vault, bypassing all our deadly snares. But first, you'll need to overcome me."

Damon nodded in acknowledgment.

Darkness surged, enshrouding his form entirely as his shadow armor protruded with spikes.

"Excellent. Your end comes now."

A being forged of utter shadow occupied the spot where the youth once stood.

But it faded away, his Ravenous shift collapsing.

Damon's eyes bulged as the man grinned.

"I forbid that ability within this room."