My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 941 - 942: Holyman

Damon remained positioned on the vessel's deck alongside Seras, sharing polite salutations with the vessel's commander. The fellow displayed a composed demeanor, his hands clasped firmly behind him, while the ocean gusts playfully pulled at his coat's hems.

Seras gave a single nod. The individual dipped his head in deep respect, nearly bending at the waist in obeisance.

"It's an honor to encounter the famed champion Seras Blade."

He cast a look toward Damon, gaze unwavering for a moment, before abruptly dropping to his knees. The thud echoed solidly on the timbered floor.

"Grant me your sacred benediction, Your Excellency."

Damon felt somewhat surprised. His eyebrows arched, mouth opening just a touch, until the realization hit that he posed as a cleric of faith.

He had no clue about the ritual, yet he relished the moment.

Deliberately, he advanced. He rested a palm atop the captain's crown, digits fanning out with purposeful pressure, assuming a grave visage like one hewn from stone.

"Blessings upon you, my child. The divine watches over us..."

The captain shut his lids in devotion, his frame quivering subtly.

Seras rolled her eyes, arms crossed snugly over her torso. The realm was indeed twisted. A figure like Damon held sanctity.

"With each passing day, we drift ever farther from divinity," she whispered to herself observing the scene.

Damon surveyed the vessel and its occupants. The crew members all anticipated Damon’s benediction, some doffing their caps, others prostrating themselves prior to any summons.

Seras scoffed in revulsion. She understood that seafaring folk harbored deeper superstitions than average. Still, receiving graces from Damon. To what depths had society sunk?

They approached Damon sequentially. He laid his hand on each crown, digits applying steady force, murmuring words beneath his breath prior to offering his finger for them to press lips to the band.

No such band existed when she last observed.

Nevertheless, five shining bands now adorned his digits, his thumb included among them. Crafted from gold, silver, dark metal, each embedded with a unique gem that reflected the fading solar rays.

"Blessings be upon you."

Seras exhaled deeply, head wagging at this charade.

The captain removed his cap, pressing it against his breast prior to inquiring in a measured tone.

"Your reverence, what destiny awaits our craft on this journey toward the demon lands?"

The answer was obvious. Danger loomed inevitably. Their path traversed multiple peril areas, and to evade detection, they skirted conventional maritime paths and commerce lanes.

Damon lifted his palm skyward, fingers splayed as though balancing unseen celestial bodies.

"Allow me to foresee our destiny."

He drummed his fingers several times, mimicking computations of cosmic paths. Seras squinted suspiciously. She never knew him to possess prophetic talents, convinced this was mere nonsense.

Damon scowled, his countenance growing increasingly somber. He furrowed his forehead, clenched his mandible, then gradually shook his head.

"Dire events. Dire events lie ahead. I foresee fierce tempests."

The captain's complexion drained of color. A crewman let slip the cord from his grasp.

"Your reverence, how might we evade this fate?"

Damon hesitated. How to evade it?

He lacked the knowledge. He fabricated the words. Naturally, he couldn't glimpse tomorrow. He had consumed foes relentlessly since departing the conflict arenas, yet no fresh ability had emerged. It seemed some enigmatic deity harbored resentment toward him.

He uttered these warnings aware his Immortal trait would hurl grievous ordeals upon him.

He descended his arm gradually, lids drooping halfway.

"The path... the path proves straightforward. Press onward with resolve. The goddess accompanies us, challenging our devotion."

He elevated his arm toward the assembled, digits fanning out with grand flair.

"Let us commence prayer..."

The group sealed their eyes as Damon intoned, tone resonant and performative.

"Heavenly matron, I revere you. I glorify your essence..."

Seras’ eyes spasmed. The craft drifted aimlessly, unsteered, for Damon sought to flaunt. The helm remained forsaken, groaning faintly as waves prodded it.

Following several minutes of blatant idleness, he ended the invocation with sweeping gesture.

"I shield us beneath the lifeblood of our adversaries."

Indeed, her blade could achieve likewise.

The captain swiftly offered Damon his quarters, inclining repeatedly, and extended undue privileges. Evidently, men of piety outweighed battle saviors who genuinely safeguarded existence.

Seras received a marginally larger berth than fellow passengers. Certain individuals bunked together. Renata bunked with Wendy.

Thus commenced their seafaring odyssey, ignorant of any distant concerns.

Aboard the vessel, a youthful chevalier perched by the lower deck's edge, footwear swaying near the inky depths. He idly sketched loops on the barrier.

A presence stirred below.

A form pierced the waves sufficiently to raise its head and gaze upon the craft. Twin ghostly orbs winked once ere submerging soundlessly.

As dusk fell, post a prolonged slumber, Damon emerged while the ship bobbed amid the obsidian seas, maneuvering around skeletal protrusions rising like a toppled deity's bones.

He spotted Seras upon the deck, eyes fixed on the distant line, tresses dancing in the wind.

"You realize, with a vessel available, why not slip along the standard path rather than the cursed woods?"

She folded her arms, leaning to one side.

"I believe I clarified this before. Why persist in grumbling? Spies lurk in every shadow. Do you assume no intelligence webs monitor all illicit passages? This route offered maximum security."

Damon gazed at the profound ebony waves as the crisp briny gust buffeted him, tousling his locks backward.

"Ha, true enough. It's tolerable, I suppose. Surviving the accursed woods can embellish my chronicles."

She grinned faintly, head tilting.

"You possess quite the entertaining nature."

A luminous glow emanated from her grin, momentarily stunning Damon. His gaze fixed upon her unwittingly.

"And your beauty shines when you grin. You ought to indulge more often."

Seras swept her strands aside, exposing her graceful throat, a gentle curve playing on her mouth.

"You've grown accustomed to addressing me informally. Does the thought of my wrath not deter you?"

Damon eyed her. An aloof presence emanated from her, instilling unease, a tension gripping the heart.

He sensed none of it.

Rather, her aloofness only spurred him to tease further.

"Nah, hardly. You don't intimidate me at all. I find you endearing in ire."

Seras caressed her visage deliberately, fingertips gliding over her skin as if verifying its reality.

"Endearing... that's novel. No one's ever dubbed me so. My sire deemed me grotesque, deeming it fine as I embodied the sword. I'm not meant for affection or allure."