My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 929 - 930: The Great Escape

Clearly, Rexagon required one vital item above all: a remedy capable of restoring his health. The challenge arose because Damon lacked an elixir with sufficient potency, particularly one effective against a dragon. Curiously, a superior potion from the system could have succeeded, yet after prolonged battles and absorptions, the system halted the distribution of premium elixirs.

At present, his stockpile included only inferior variants along with those pilfered from the Brightwater family's alchemy workshops.

Without glancing behind, Damon sprinted toward the displacement flowers. Seras hadn't outlined her strategy for him, nor was it necessary—he had deduced it himself.

The breeze whipped against his face, tousling his locks. Still, Damon sensed insufficient security, so he intensified his efforts by invoking the [5x] skill, directing it toward his velocity.

[Skill: 5x]

[Description:]

The warriors of the Sky Continent, Vuldren, embodied freedom and limitless growth, their achievements inspiring the concept of boundless potential reflected in this skill.

[Effect:]

5x amplifies a chosen stat by five times its base value for 5 minutes.

[Type:]

Active.

[Cooldown:] 10 minutes

The gale howled in his wake. Part of him considered twisting around to check if his allies trailed him. Yet before that impulse could take hold, he recalled the individual whose ability marked them for death.

Oh right. That individual was himself.

Clenching his jaw, Damon triggered [Accel].

[Skill: Accel]

[Description:] My sister moved like the wind — free, untouchable. When she drew her sword, the battle was already over. Speed is everything in combat. Even here in the abyss, I remember her: swift, regal... faster than death itself.

[Effect:] Greatly amplifies movement speed by 10,000% when traversing vast distances. However, you experience 10,000% the exhaustion afterward.

[Type:] Active

[Cooldown:] 12 seconds

A thunderous sonic blast shattered the atmosphere. From the instant Damon uttered the command to flee until he streaked away like a thunderbolt, barely three seconds elapsed.

In that precise instant, Seras sprang into action. The group was already unleashing a barrage of evasion techniques and enchanted relics.

Dazzling gleams and indistinct silhouettes surged in pursuit of Damon.

Simultaneously, the dragon inserted the vial between his jaws. Every event unfolded in perfect synchronization.

As the liquid from the vial met his tongue, it dissolved instantly, releasing its inner essence. The flavor of a mediocre potion assaulted his formidable palate.

This wasn't even the superior grade of low-quality from the system... no, this was the bargain-basement variety, peddled at roadside vendors to thrill-seekers who prized coins over vitality.

The subpar mana and contaminants brushed against his massive tongue, followed by utter emptiness. Such a brew couldn't mend even the minor fissures in his armored hide, let alone his colossal frame.

For a fleeting instant, Rexagon found himself utterly bewildered, lost in confusion. It wasn't the potion's concept that baffled him—it was the sheer nerve.

What sane creature would possess the brazenness to attempt such a blatant ruse on a dragon?

Rexagon's acceptance of the vial stemmed not from folly. It derived from draconic nature.

Rexagon functions through three core drives.

Pride, shared by countless dragons, leads him to presume inferior races wouldn't risk falsehoods against them. Deceiving a dragon invites annihilation. Thus, Rexagon doesn't entertain betrayal at first, as it would suggest mortals possess the idiocy to defy him.

The second drive was predominantly his personal intrigue. Curiosity may slay the feline, but gratification revives it. Dragons diverge slightly, for curiosity poses no threat to their might.

Rexagon, ancient and wounded, found novelty in this.

An enigmatic elixir from what he deemed Ashcroft proved captivating.

Not optimism. Merely intrigue.

And intrigue ranks among the rare forces capable of eclipsing draconic arrogance.

The final was pragmatic reckoning from eons of existence. Should the potion prove spurious, Rexagon forfeits naught. He could eliminate them later. This renders taking the vial a negligible hazard.

Such reasoning epitomizes draconic logic.

A stir flickered in his core briefly, his enormous talons quivering while the tiny vermin scurried below. Lifting his gaze, he bellowed a laugh, deriving mirth from the deed—yet as swiftly as the mirth arose, it dissolved into fury upon grasping that a puny rodent had presumed to dupe him.

Damon had nearly reached the displacement flowers. By now, nine seconds had ticked away as Rexagon indulged in that mocking chuckle.

He swiveled his neck toward Damon.

The earth withered beneath, and Damon's stance crumbled, hurling him airborne to tumble and slide while his former comrades overtook him with ease.

Not a soul paused as an icy blast swept from their rear, carving a massive, horrifying gash into the terrain.

Damon refused to allow capture and pulverization by the dragon. He harnessed the gust generated by Rexagon's strike to propel himself upward. Twisting in flight, he struck the soil just as the expedition members started to fade, whisked elsewhere by the displacement flowers.

As he drew his limbs to merge with the shadows for teleportation, a grip seized his ankles. Peering downward, he spotted an insectoid abomination with a pallid, skeletal form and creased hide clutching his legs, its frame emerging from the soil.

Horror gripped Damon as this loathsome entity delayed him for a mere heartbeat—and that proved ample for the dragon's enormous talon to plummet toward him.

It seemed the world had fixated on him, with a colossal claw ascending to smash him flat. Rexagon fumed, yet inexplicably viewed this as a personal affront.

Suddenly, the talon plunged. Damon had resigned to his fate. In that moment, he was already retrieving the amulet from the priest, prepared to activate it and flee to the serpent shrine when...

A feminine silhouette interposed between him and the descending talon. She swung her blade skyward, silencing all noise in a deafening clamor like a legion of swords colliding.

The resultant shockwave propelled them backward—that was her intent. Seizing Damon, she clutched him tightly as they hurtled through the displacement flowers and blinked out of sight.

Seras swore under her breath.

"You bastard, you crazy bastard..."

Damon chuckled, surging with audacity.

"Ahh, don’t worry, dragons have the brains of a walnut... not very bright."

As he faded away, a system notification rang in his ears.

[Ragebait lvl 9]