My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 945 - 946: Birth

The fourth day at sea proved far less peaceful than the previous ones.

At the break of dawn, a bizarre horde erupted from the waves, surging violently toward the vessel, with scores of the creatures scrambling to climb onto the deck.

These beings looked like amphibians. Their bulky, viscous bodies were dotted with warts. Shaped like humans, they had elongated limbs that terminated in webbed talons. Their jaws stretched unnaturally wide over their heads, exposing lines of flat, mashing teeth.

They resisted magical assaults.

The optimal way to eliminate them involved brute physical power.

Steel blades.

Heavy blows.

Severing heads.

Damon wiped his sword clean after the final ones were hurled into the ocean. The bodies plunged into the water with loud splashes, vanishing into the dark blue depths.

Blood coated the deck.

It gathered in the gaps between the boards, blended with salty water, and trickled in narrow rivulets to the drains.

Damon's features were dotted with crimson. His look remained icy.

"How are they breaching the barrier every time?"

He spun around abruptly and approached Seras. The sun blazed overhead, reflecting off his weapon as he brought it down beside him.

"What's happening here? Was the ocean always this perilous?"

Seras shook her head gradually, cleaning her blade with a rag before sliding it into its scabbard.

"We've passed the Bone Sea and navigated away from all hazard areas. Though this unexplored region of the waters is risky, it's no lethal territory. We're in the Narrow Sea, sandwiched between the Bone and Fog Seas, so the beasts shouldn't act this fiercely."

He was already familiar with her words.

Their journey to the demon continent wasn't overly extended. Given the ship's pace, including sidetracks to avoid threats, they ought to reach it in roughly three weeks, maybe slightly longer.

The Bone Sea extended from the demon continent to the Bone Hallows within the evil forest. Opposite it, various seas converged, a few of them fairly secure.

The Fog Sea lay nearest to the Bone Sea from where they sailed.

The Narrow Sea divided them.

It earned its name as a slim passage where the larger seas clashed without merging. The currents there were mostly ordinary, with just occasional horrors slipping across from both directions.

Having arrived at this point, safety should have increased.

The plan called for traveling the Narrow Sea as far as feasible until hitting the junction of the two major seas. Then they'd face one final deadly stretch before hitting the demon continent.

Alternative paths existed.

Yet this one was the stealthiest.

No rational individual would choose it.

That exact reason made it their pick.

Snatching the Ouroboros Coil was no simple task.

Seras shut her eyes for a second, mentally reviewing the past four days.

"Something's disrupting the barrier."

Damon nodded deliberately.

He'd arrived at the identical deduction following four days of nonstop Bloody Mary assaults.

"Is it the Bloody Mary?" he inquired in a low tone.

"No. I suspected the same at first, but that beast lacks the sufficient rank to manage it. It also doesn't possess the needed magical expertise."

She gestured faintly at the gory, buoyant remains bobbing in the inky blue waters. The sea's depth now gave it an almost ebony hue.

"These things clued me in. Onboard this vessel, an item is allowing them entry. During the Bloody Mary strikes, a subtle influence weakened the barrier. It happened the same with these."

"Hm."

Damon squinted, eyeing the subtle glow of the safeguarding runes.

"Yeah, I figured as much. So, are we facing a creature or..."

"No. It's an item. Likely cursed, in my view," Seras whispered, dropping her tone for his ears alone.

"Where could such a thing come from... oh, I get it."

His face altered.

They'd originated from the evil forest.

Beyond the Bone Hallows.

Countless valuables there could drive even a stoic fellow to covetous frenzy.

If a person grabbed one...

Hence the standing order.

Remove nothing from the woods.

For the woods cling to you.

"When do you reckon someone swiped something?" Damon questioned in a hushed manner.

Seras shot him a sidelong look.

"I figured you did it. You're the only one mad enough for that."

Damon pressed his lips together, clearly upset.

"I'm avaricious and somewhat insane. Fine, outright insane. But even I wouldn't be that avaricious. Actually, I once followed an eighty percent probability rule."

"Is that so. What shifted?" she replied flatly.

Damon gazed upward at the heavens and let out a breath.

"Life unfolded. I learned that occasionally you must wager everything. It's a jump of belief. Not in deities. In your own capabilities."

Seras examined his countenance briefly, then released a gradual sigh.

"Suppose you're truly not the culprit who dragged a curse aboard."

"Well, that turned out to be pointless," she grumbled, looking defeated.

Damon gave a soft laugh, shrugging his shoulders to loosen up.

"Who do you suspect? I think it got lifted when we were off guard. On the shore, prior to embarking."

Seras's attention turned to the crew bustling on the deck. Seamen mopping up gore. Others mending light harms. Some dodging glances.

Her stare intensified.

"Time for a search, then."

She placed her palm on her sword's grip.

"And some questioning."

***************

Damon perched on a barrel, observing the knight whose gut was bloated.

The fellow remained straight despite his state. One palm against his belly, the other gripping a container. He hawked into it, dabbed his lips, then straightened with effort.

"Vice Commander, sir."

He saluted, fighting to uphold a knight's propriety.

The bloated torso sight left Damon profoundly uneasy.

He gestured dismissively.

"Sit down."

The knight eased onto a facing barrel. In doing so, a serpentine form wriggled under his skin there.

It moved side to side.

The man uttered a pained noise.

His complexion whitened as his belly expanded visibly by another inch. Crimson trickled from his nostrils. His breaths grew faint.

Damon's demeanor stayed unchanged.

"Alright. I've got queries for you. Answer them truthfully."

Whether the fellow planned deceit made no difference.

Damon triggered his ability.

Skill: Eyes of Veracity

Description:

Once used by the truthseers of the White Tribunal, this eye-based skill uncovers deceit, mirages, and concealed intents with flawless accuracy.

Effect:

You discern reality amid falsehoods, even if reality stays ambiguous.

Type:

Active

Cooldown:

0 seconds

His sight honed faintly. A slight ripple lingered over untruths, akin to shimmering air over hot sands.

He started with routine checks.

"What's your name?"

The man responded.

"Where do you hail from?"

Yet another reply.

"What's your race?"

"Your unit and knightly group."

Every response held firm.

The inquiries could appear redundant or uneasy, but Damon was verifying the individual's core. Making sure no imposter wore a stolen visage.

Content, Damon inclined ahead a bit.

"Did you bring any relics or items aboard this ship?"

The knight denied with a head shake.

"No, my lord, I didn't."

True.

"Are you influenced or controlled somehow? Any lost recollections or gaps in awareness?"

"Not to my knowledge."

True once more.

"Do you sense unclear hunches or feel unlike your usual self?"

"Yes. Indeed, I do. I'm hosting a monstrous parasite inside me, after all."

That rang true as well.

Damon noted the steady glimmer in his view.

Next came his last query.

"Are you scared?"

The knight locked gazes with him.

"No. I'm not."

No pause in his words.

Yet Damon detected it.

A flash.

A warp.

Falsehood.

Damon stayed silent.

The man stood and stepped away, holding his midsection.

One after another, the sailors and knights faced the identical round of probes. The sun inched toward the sunset as Damon pressed on.

Features merged in his mind.

Replies echoed.

Truth.

Truth.

Truth.

Until a youthful knight appeared.

He recalled this fellow.

Set.

The man took a seat, rigid in bearing.

Damon prepared to start.

Suddenly, a cry ripped across the deck.

One afflicted fellow dropped to his knees.

"Agrghh... agrghh..."

He gripped his abdomen as translucent liquid seeped down his thighs, staining the timber.

Resembling a laboring mother with breaking waters.

"Aghhh!"

He toppled backward.

All hurried to him.

A massive lump surged under his belly.

His flesh started to change hue.

Decay fanned out from the middle, like dye soaking into parchment.

"Hurry! Hold it back! Prevent it from bursting his flesh!" a voice yelled.

Knights pinned him in place.

A medic darted in, placing both palms on the fellow's gut. A round barrier of packed power appeared, bearing down to restrain the growing bulge.

The man's jaws parted.

Crimson erupted forth.

His frame seized as an inner force devoured.

The sounds were audible.

Moist rips.

Bones snapping.

Vitals pulverized and eaten while life lingered.

The medic yelled with strain, cords bulging in his throat.

Then the lower belly split open.

A savage spray of gore and remains exploded out.

The medic got soaked right away.

The plagued knight lay motionless.

His eyes stayed wide.

Locked in terror.

In torment.

The medics retreated unsteadily.

From the mangled hollow, a form started to emerge.

Gradually and purposefully.

A slender, slippery appendage appeared first, ashen and shiny, twisting oddly at the bends.

Followed by a second.

It pulled itself loose bit by bit, smeared in red and bits of its former host.