My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 940 - 941: The Ornament

She shook her head.

"I wouldn't go that far. They were more like biological copies. Some monsters can reproduce in that manner. It doesn't signify anything."

"Then why did you do it?"

She smiled faintly.

"Who knows? I was probably just lonely."

Wendy rose to her feet, sweeping sand and bone dust off her garments. The breeze caught her hair once more, and for an instant, she appeared less monstrous and more delicate.

"I won't attempt to impose myself on you again," she stated. "After that... I believe we're even."

She paused briefly.

"I forgive you."

Damon frowned.

"You forgive me? I don't get it."

She gazed down at him and shook her head.

"Yeah. I knew you wouldn't. You're too immature to grasp forgiveness. It's tough to release. It's challenging to forgive. It's simple to hate. Simple to seek revenge. Even if I obtained all I desired, I wouldn't find joy. I'm liberating myself."

"Forgiveness..." Damon murmured.

The term felt strange on his tongue.

"You should learn to release as well," she said gently.

He hauled himself up, fingers raking through his hair.

"Doesn't it pain you? Don't you crave revenge? To injure me in return? To make me suffer?"

"Not anymore," Wendy responded. "I still believe you'll receive your due punishment. But it won't come from me. Damon... an eye for an eye creates an endless loop. I'd prefer to build something lovely."

"Beauty is fleeting," Damon whispered.

"Because we keep ruining it," Wendy replied.

For a brief moment, the pair just gazed at one another.

Then Damon chuckled.

A harsh, incredulous noise.

"When did you turn so wise all of a sudden?"

"I've always been," she said. "You simply never saw it. I've gained much knowledge. And I hope to gain more."

She cast him a prolonged glance.

"So look after me in the years ahead, alright?"

Damon flopped back suddenly onto the enormous skull, eyes fixed on the dimming sky.

He failed to comprehend her.

He believed he did. He had simplified her into something basic. Foreseeable. But now she uttered these words, and it disturbed him.

He despised mentions of forgiveness.

It offended his lifestyle. His beliefs.

If forgiveness was so honorable, what of the village he had wiped out to the last soul over a grudge spanning almost a decade?

What about them?

What about Xander’s brother, slain by him despite the regret visible in the man's gaze?

What about all in Quickhand who had offended him and forfeited their lives?

What about Xander himself, still pursuing vengeance?

Forgiveness suited saints.

And Damon was no such figure.

Now he finally grasped why Wendy had received her class. Her abilities. Deep down, she was innocent in a manner he could never achieve.

Without those powers, she would have perished at his hands ages ago.

Xander Ravenscroft was now betrothed. He would wed soon. He would father a child shortly.

Damon’s gaze shadowed.

He would seize that child for eighteen years.

"Ah... this is absurd," he grumbled. "I can't let her unsettle me."

If he weren't aware, he'd suspect an intricate plot.

But he was aware.

As he reclined there, grappling with his mind, he sensed it.

A shadow gliding over the ocean.

He sat up quickly.

Distant on the horizon, an object sliced through the dark waves. A vast white sail bobbed with the ocean's swell. The mast towered high, and subtle magical runes gleamed along the hull, illuminating faintly against the night.

From the summit, banners waved.

Shapes shifted on its deck.

The vessel.

He wasn't alone in spotting it.

Expedition members stood from their rest spots, heading to the shoreline. Relief flashed over weary expressions. Some balled their hands. Others let out trembling breaths.

They might have shouted in joy.

Had fear not lingered of what could overhear.

They had outlasted a month in the Evil Forest. They had withstood terrors few would dare mention.

Damon climbed to his feet gradually, dusting bone particles from his coat.

The ship neared.

He raised his head, eyeing it with steady focus.

"I survived the Evil Forest."

**********

In a single line, they started ascending the ship's slim boarding ramp, boots tapping lightly on weathered timber. The ocean gust pulled at robes and locks, bearing the odor of brine and decay from the coast they left.

As he advanced with the group, a gleam caught his eye in the sand nearby.

He decelerated.

No one observed.

He tilted his head a bit, eyes squinting.

Partially embedded in the shadowy grains was a gold trinket. In its middle sat a ruby stone formed like an open eye, smooth and shining as though untouched by ages. Old runes encircled its edge, slender and exact, free from rust. It seemed out of place amid a shore strewn with skeletons.

An item like that could command a steep sum.

Particularly if tales spread of its origin in the Evil Forest.

He looked at the others. Their backs faced him, focus on the ship.

Gradually, nearly without thought, he deviated from the queue and knelt. His digits lingered just above the trinket.

You must not take from the forest.

Or the forest will pursue you.

His jaw clenched.

He pulled back his hand like it was scorched.

Without a further glance, he rose and rejoined the line, boots crunching the sand as he trailed the rest to the ship.

Upon reaching the deck at last, he delved into the pouch at his waist for his waterskin. His fingers grazed something chilly.

Metal.

He scowled and peered within.

The identical gold trinket lay at the pouch's base.

His breathing halted.

The ruby eye gazed up at him.

For an extended instant, he stayed motionless. Then, with utmost caution, he secured the flap and sealed the pouch.

If it resided there... it had to be destiny.

That was the sole rationale he permitted.

He stood tall and proceeded further onto the ship, his stride steady and even, as if no event had transpired.

From the deck's edge, Lana observed his nearing form. She narrowed her eyes a touch.

"Hey, Set, are you okay? You have sand in your hand."

Her smile was slight yet intrigued.

He halted and looked downward.

Sand adhered to his palm.

His forehead creased.

He recalled no contact with the sand.

"Hm."

He shook it off deliberately, particles dispersing over the deck.

"Haha, we're on a beach. No wonder. Thanks for pointing it out. We wouldn't want to carry any curse aboard."

Lana let out a gentle chuckle and resumed her tasks.

Set headed to the group, blending in as lines were thrown and sails raised.

Within his pouch, the gold trinket throbbed subtly.

Under the deck.

Under the ocean.

Something observed as the ship departed.