My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 934 - 935: Overwhelming But Defeated

The Graveyard of Gods, according to Damon's knowledge, stood as a deadly forbidden area on the demon continent, brimming with endless ancient remains—some pulsing with more life than death, while the truly lifeless ones poisoned the realm and everything nearby through their enduring aura.

Should the Evil Forest count as a perilous death trap, the Graveyard of Gods would reign as the supreme origin of all such horrors. Whispers claimed that even warriors at the seventh class advancement risked perishing within its grasp.

As a death zone, nothing in Lysithara could rival its menace.

Damon squinted his eyes. Seras grinned, letting out a gentle laugh.

"Ahh, so you don't know it all. That's refreshing. I was starting to believe you held every secret."

He sensed her playful jab, particularly after the clash with the lich Amadeus.

"Hmph." He snorted, folding his arms.

"I grasp only what I've learned. Existence is an endless path. We have to push forward in gaining wisdom, because admitting our lack of knowledge opens the door to true discovery. The ultimate folly lies in refusing to recognize one's own gaps."

Seras found herself at a loss for words. She arched a brow.

"Did you just recite from the Book of Athor?"

Damon blinked, shutting his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"What do you mean?" he replied evenly.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten I studied at Aether Academy as well. That's straight from the Book of Athor. Ahh, you're utterly brazen... Were I unaware, I'd swear you were sharing deep insights."

Damon dismissed her remark with a scoff.

"Did the message strike you or not? Who cares if it's not your own."

Seras let out a sigh, rolling her eyes.

"Alright. You got me."

She settled onto the pale bone surface and rested against a massive bone shard. It likely belonged to the spine of some enormous beast from long ago.

"The temple gathered various records during its early days, and as you're aware, they've endured countless trials to rise as a world-renowned force. Still, we're not here to delve into their past."

Seras folded her legs into a lotus pose.

"You're familiar with the wicked prophet, aren't you? Tales describe how he battled mysterious and horrifying foes during an ancient conflict. Once the war concluded, the remnants formed a field of primordial bodies whose savage spirits refused to dissipate even after death." She hesitated, then murmured, "Thus, the god grave emerged."

Damon eyed the enormous skull enclosing them and the expansive, shadowy depths within. He pondered briefly, questioning if his shadow might consume this carcass. Without thinking, he looked toward his shadow, which gradually shook from side to side.

Though these entities had perished, a fragment of them clung to vitality, a ravenous urge to persist. Devouring them would work, certainly, yet it would burden him with an unwanted legacy, potentially leading to his own downfall.

At that realization, a new idea struck him.

The Lost. They formed a shadowy race on the demon continent capable of snatching shadows.

Had they originated in the Graveyard of Gods?

Damon swiftly accessed his system interface and scanned the skills section.

[Skill: Shadow Control]

[Description:]

"The lost abound, hunger in their souls as they steal shadows, replacing their stolen forms with the essence of those they take. Those whose shadows vanish become like them—lost, wandering, forever chasing what was stolen. In their absence, the shadows once lost now bend to your will, shaped by desire, lingering and intangible, as though they were never meant to be seen."

[Effect:]

The user can control intangible shadows—those not bound to physical form—manipulating them with will and essence. Masterless shadows now bend to your command, a force under your control.

[Type:]

Active.

[Cooldown:]

10 seconds.

Seras had no idea what captured his attention. She pressed on regardless.

"That primordial clash spanned the ocean from the demon continent, traversing the waters and altering them forever. In the end, it halted along the coasts of the war continent. That's the birth of the Bone Hallows."

Damon gave a nod. The scale defied his imagination. A warzone extending from the demon continent, over the sea, and all the way to Soltheon. How many beings had fallen? What monstrous horrors had they confronted? How fearsome must those outsiders have been to unleash such devastation?

He'd witnessed personally how the outsiders reduced Lysithara to devastation. Take Ythar, the outsider whose remains birthed a thick mist that grew into the Whispering Forest.

Then there was Ittorath, bound within a spatial tear using the twin moons as anchors, leaving just one moon visible over Lysithara's skies.

The heavy, fatal atmosphere permeating the Bone Hallows drove home a grim reality to Damon. The outsiders proved far more dreadful than he'd ever acknowledged. Far more devious. Far more versed in dark arts.

'How can I possibly vanquish beings like these?'

Seras rested a hand on his shoulder.

"You ought to rest a bit. We'll head out in a few hours."

Damon nodded gradually, yet he couldn't resist murmuring,

"How do we even start battling horrors like this..."

Seras paused. Silence hung for a beat, then she offered a smile.

"I wrestled with the exact doubt... back when I was a young girl... only for me, it wasn't cosmic terrors, though in hindsight, they loomed just as immense..."

Damon shot her a brief look. Seras smiled, her gaze lost in memory.

"As a little girl, I confronted someone at the first class advancement."

"Hmm, but that's feeble..." Damon interjected.

She inclined her head slowly. The first class indeed paled in strength. It marked merely the initial stride on a vast road to might. These days, she could dispatch a first class foe with a mere flick or the pressure of her presence.

"They're puny to you, standing at the fourth class advancement. Likely no more than specks beneath the earth."

She touched her chest lightly.

"To me, as a kid, that figure towered above the skies. They shattered barriers, dashed at unthinkable velocities... I had zero hope. Just an unawakened youngster."

A subtle spark lit her eyes.

"I was convinced death awaited, with no savior in sight. So I did what I could. I battled fiercely, bruised and bleeding, my survival dangling by a hair. In that desperate struggle, I grasped victory. I'd accomplished the impossible."

Damon absorbed her tale in silence. He'd heard this before. It formed the spark of her epic, the child who felled a first class adversary while still fresh from infancy.

"Yeah, that's a pushover. These are transcendent existences..." he countered, dismantling her point.

Overcoming a single insect changed little. That foe meant nothing. He barely warranted a mention in the margins of her saga.

"Does it? I see it as identical." Seras smiled, her face peaceful. He'd never witnessed such softness from her. This marked the mildest look she'd ever shown. Her eyes, typically ablaze with combat fury, now held tranquility. In them, he saw his reflection, etched with uncertainty.

"I deemed that foe invincible, yet he crumbled. Insignificant against true power. Now that I'm mighty, he's worth less than dirt... perhaps he appeared mighty because I was frail. He loomed larger than existence, but he didn't. These beasts follow the same pattern. They're not beyond the mortal coil. To one surpassing them in strength, they're voids, unworthy of recall."

Her stare remained fixed on him.

"I harbor no fear against any person or force that appears overwhelming or superior. If needed, I'll clash. And in clashing, I'll triumph. For I am Seras Blade, and giants hold no terror for me."

Damon's heart stirred from her speech, her demeanor. She spoke truth. These outsiders loomed immense and mighty, yet who lay slain here? They did. Who served as echoes of history? They'd challenged the wicked prophet and fallen. Why dread vanquished foes? In his reality, they towered, but in the broader cosmos, they amounted to dust, mere tools in some enigmatic deity's design. They held no significance. They weren't even contenders.

"I erred," Damon reflected, watching Seras's form recede as she departed.

"After Ittorath's ambush, I overlooked a key truth."

It was a vital oversight.

"These foes aren't unbreakable. They fell to one native to my realm. They're feebler even than Ashcroft, whom I've overcome."

"I'm not cornered in this world alongside them. They've been ensnared here with me."

"I can handle this yet. I can ensnare even the unknown god."

And for that, he required just one element.

Lazarak’s Lake of Tears.