My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 892 - 893: Second Time In History

Just as someone prepared to label him an idiot for chasing after the grand duke and yelling "grandpa," the grand duke surprisingly consented.

He backed him up without hesitation.

A triumphant grin spread across Damon's face. Safety enveloped him now. Who would risk laying a hand on him? Absolutely no one.

An elderly nobleman, his face etched with deep creases, advanced with a serene and steady demeanor.

"Your Excellency, if you'll allow me," he spoke with courtesy. "Isn't it somewhat unjust to declare this young man your grandson just for a single elixir?"

He inclined his head in a slight bow, keeping his presence restrained.

"Think about your standing."

Damon looked up toward the grand duke before whispering right by his ear.

"Grandpa, is this fellow accusing you of falsehood? He ought to meet his end."

Coldness sharpened in the grand duke's gaze.

A burst of light streaked through the air.

The old nobleman barely had time to respond when his arms vanished entirely. In an instant. Resistance hadn't even crossed his mind as an option.

Damon's grin resembled a sly fox discovering that the mighty mountain tiger viewed it as its own offspring.

But here, he truly belonged to that lineage.

"Nepotism only feels wrong when it's not working in my favor."

Cassian furrowed his brow at Damon's words.

'He voiced the unspoken truth.'

Damon drew in a long breath. His sister gazed at him with bewilderment. Among everyone there, she alone remained clueless about the real situation.

Various reactions rippled through the crowd after the shocking display, yet the grand duke showed no astonishment that Damon had pieced it together.

True to form for his grandson.

A gentle exhale escaped Aurelius Venn as he stood up.

"I never knew the Golden Death fathered a child," he remarked, aiming his comment straight at Cassian.

Cassian let out a sigh. He'd been quietly handling his affairs, but somehow, trouble had pulled him right in.

"Though the likeness might seem striking, I guarantee I'm not his dad."

Damon pressed a palm to his chest.

"You're shattering my heart."

Cassian sighed once more. He just wished for this chaos to end so everyone could head back home.

"So, what's his exact connection to you, Grand Duke?" Aurelius insisted, probing for the suspicion he harbored.

"The details don't matter. It's a private family issue, and meddlers from outside should stay out," the grand duke snapped back. Let someone else handle the explanations to the temple. Not him.

Damon released a hushed breath of ease.

Mere moments earlier, peril had loomed large, prompting him to trigger the snare he'd set for his grandfather. In reality, Damon had no intention of departing without revealing their bond.

Whatever consequences arose, that burden fell on the elder.

Even so, Damon needed to capitalize on his position.

He jabbed a finger at the assembly.

"How could you handle me like this? Did you overlook that I took down Amon? Weren't rewards pledged to me? I clearly recall the temple bestowing the grand honor of hero upon me."

Next, he shifted his eyes to the emperor.

"Plus, the empire vowed a massive fortune and a rank among the nobility."

The emperor's face stayed impassive. The promises lingered in his memory. In fact, he'd merely watched events unfold all along.

"The empire remembers its word to you."

Damon scanned the area, hunting for more debts owed to him. His eyes settled on Seras Blade.

"Don't assume I've overlooked you too."

She let out a laugh.

"You're truly indestructible like a cockroach. That trait surely didn't come from your mother. Makes me curious if it's from your father's lineage."

The elder from the Ravenscroft clan chuckled quietly.

"Oh, now it clicks. So he's Ranar's boy. You ought to have mentioned it. Such a tiny world. Imagine, one of Xander's acquaintances turns out to be Ranar Brightwater's offspring."

"Ranar Brightwater? Wasn't she killed ages back?"

"Indeed, I was even at her burial."

"So why the deception from the grand duke?"

Damon lifted his arm.

"Pardon the cut-in, but we're not pals. More like schoolmates who barely tolerated one another."

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The applause reverberated across the arena.

Damon spun to face the source.

Paimon.

She'd stayed quiet throughout. Having rounded up the remaining demon heirs on her dromedary, she perched on the beast's crown.

"My thanks. I had no clue the goddess races carried such intense intrigue," she noted casually. "It kept me fully engaged. Regrettably, my time is limited, and dusk approaches. If it suits you, I've a brief announcement."

She cleared her voice while shadowy wings spread from her shoulders.

"I realize this breaks tradition, with just a single historical example, but I'm issuing it. A proclamation of war against every goddess race, speaking for the Demon Continent."

Her words boomed forth.

"By the lost name of the Unknown God, I, Paimon, High Priestess of the Snake Temple, proclaim war upon you all."

The dromedary ascended skyward. A tear in space appeared, swallowing Paimon from sight.

In a flash, the realm teetered on war's edge again.

Throughout history's clashes, the goddess races always initiated the fights. Each time, demon forces crushed them, pushing the battles into goddess territory.

Only once had demons struck first with a declaration.

It occurred in the Era of Ashcroft, as the Demon Lord of Domination claimed the throne of Demon King, rallying all demons—then seen as lesser—to revolt.

That marked the dawn of demon dominance.

All at once, lesser issues faded into irrelevance.

The goddess races, fractured by endless divides before, now banded tighter than ever.

An odd reality emerged.

Hatred bound folks swifter than affection ever managed.

"Preparations for battle are essential. No room for delay," certain nobles bellowed.

"Another conflict brewing? The previous one ended just years past."

"Have the demons lost their minds?"

"Recovery from the last hasn't even finished."

"Is doom upon us? Has Ashcroft come back?"

Suddenly, Damon's bold unveiling lost all weight.

War had been called by the demons.

Damon stayed mute, eyes fixed where Paimon had faded. His instinct for peril throbbed from afar.

Certainty gripped him fully.

Deathless intended to hurl him into genuine peril.

'Blast it. Death isn't my wish.'

The hex lodged in his core stirred on reflex, compelling Damon's instincts to prioritize survival above all.