My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 946 - 947: Child

A tense hush fell over the scene as a grotesque form emerged, crawling forth. All present remained rooted in place, eyes fixed on the deformed being that crouched above the ravaged body of the former knight.

Fear hung heavy in the atmosphere, mingled with the persistent, overpowering reek of fresh blood.

The abomination hunched low on all fours, roughly the stature of a five- or six-year-old child. Its scalp was hairless save for a few clinging wisps, its skeletal spine protruding under taut skin, and its eyes unnaturally reversed, staring backward.

Despite its monstrous nature, the most peculiar feature was its maw—expected to bristle with jagged fangs, but instead smooth and empty like an infant's.

Compensating for the absence of teeth were its elongated, razor-sharp claws that shimmered faintly in the subdued glow.

Damon wasted no time for an assault. His palms thrust outward, unleashing dark infernos that swept through the surroundings.

Yet the beast scampered across the timbered floor with eerie agility, its appendages contorting to dodge the blaze. Sections of the vessel's planking shattered from the force of Damon's strike.

Embers drifted lazily as the ship's protective glyphs pulsed erratically, resisting his overwhelming might. With a sharp tsk, he reined in his energy, balling his hand to quell the fire and avert turning the entire craft to cinders.

This entire ship resembled a delicate stack of cards against his strength. Its wards focused mainly on external threats, rendering the inside vulnerable to one of his caliber.

Suddenly, the fiend lunged ahead.

It scaled toward a knight who advanced, clenching his fist for a strike, evidently dismissing it as a frail, merely grotesque foe.

He misjudged gravely.

The horror casually swiped with its talon.

A vicious gash tore through the atmosphere.

The knight's nose severed neatly from his visage.

He let out a pained grunt of surprise, reeling back while grasping at his wound. Before regaining footing, the beast pounced once more, talons embedding into his neck. Crimson gushed as he faltered.

A surge of sorcery hit the monster from the flank, hurling it sprawling across the planking.

"Watch out! It's at third class advancement!" Lana yelled, immediately discerning its level.

It matched the tier of the individual it had burst from.

This boded ill.

After developing within a victim, the entity absorbed the power rank of its prey.

The creature gradually raised its head from the boards and aimed its claw at the caster who had repelled it.

Lana's eyes grew wide.

"No way..."

Indeed, it was possible.

What unfolded before her was the fiend's deranged power. It didn't merely claim the host's rank.

It pilfered their abilities too.

"Soul Lance..."

This belonged to the fallen knight—a piercing bolt of ruin that bypassed all barriers upon direct impact.

The sorcerer responded without delay. He unleashed a sphere of magic underfoot and propelled himself aside via the backlash. Far from novice, he was a scarred survivor of numerous battles and terrors.

"He can only use that once a day!" a voice called out.

The ability bore a daily restriction.

Even as relief dawned, the abomination elevated its limb anew.

To their dismay, it invoked the technique once again.

Before the strike could launch, Seras sprang into action.

Her form flickered indistinctly.

She hoisted her tachi and plunged it downward fiercely.

The edge pierced the beast's skull and embedded into the deck below, anchoring the horror immobile. With a savage wrench, she shattered its vertebral column.

Seras breathed out steadily, releasing a faint irritated sigh.

Yet abruptly, movement stirred within the carcass.

Its abdomen swelled ominously.

A larva erupted from the remains.

Dark pyres consumed it in an instant.

Only then did the abomination perish for good.

Damon cleared his throat lightly as the foul odor from the entity's husk permeated the deck. The miasma of decay and gore draped the air like an oppressive veil.

For an instant, silence reigned.

A profound quiet enveloped the deck, laced with unadulterated terror.

"It's only been four days. There shouldn't have been a birth yet," Damon murmured to himself, his gaze sharpening as a sudden chill gripped the breeze.

"You're telling me that thing was a premature birth... how strong will it be if it wasn’t," he whispered further.

Nevertheless, the crew aboard were no common folk. Numerous boasted enhanced senses, including acute hearing. Damon made no effort to conceal his mutterings.

Those harboring the parasites within quivered noticeably.

They stood next in line.

Their ends loomed near. At any second, one might tear apart, birthing yet another abomination from their innards.

Damon approached the knight's remains with measured steps.

The man's lower torso gaped torn. Crimson drenched the timbers, viscera strewn about the surface. His expression locked in perpetual agony and fright.

Thus he met his fate.

He had likely endured scores of conflicts, a warrior forged through endless trials.

Now he rested here, lifeless.

Damon found himself recalling his own past regrets about warfare upon his demise.

'I wonder which battlefield I would be laid to rest on... and if I would even have an intact corpse.'

The reflection drifted through his thoughts softly.

But the departed stayed gone.

The focus now lay on the survivors.

Still, those alive required some resolution.

Damon pivoted his gaze toward the captain gradually.

"Prepare some wood. We should give him a funeral."

Discarding the body into the waves was unwise amid their shaken spirits. Moreover, the scent of blood and entrails might lure additional sea beasts.

They needed to incinerate it.

Honoring him with rites served the troops as well. Knowing their forms would receive dignity post-mortem eased their dread of dying somewhat.

Though disciplined, they remained human at core.

Shortly, plumes of smoke and cinders ascended from the vessel.

Damon refrained from employing Ashborn for the pyre. He kindled an ordinary blaze.

All kept their peace.

A few murmured gentle invocations to deities. Others merely lingered in solemn hush, heads bowed.

The fire snapped as the frame gradually charred to dust.

Eventually, Damon lifted his chin.

"We are about two weeks or so away from the demon continent... and we will not make it that far unless one of you comes clean."