My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 959 - 960: All Across The World

Renown.

Or perhaps, in this highly questionable scenario...

Notoriety.

Precisely, notoriety.

Throughout his life of virtue and honor, Damon had never envisioned his notoriety extending all the way to the Demon Continent.

It seemed like only yesterday when he was an unknown figure.

And today?

Today, he had become a legend known across the world.

It was almost as though the skies quaked at the mere mention of Damon Grey.

At least, that was the picture he painted in his thoughts.

In his imagination, he pictured himself as a source of terror. The sort of fighter whose reputation alone caused foes to quiver. The idol that every young one aspired to emulate.

So why...

Why were such tales reaching his ears?

"I heard Damon Grey is shameless," Gabo declared with obvious revulsion. "A degenerate who beats his own servants and kills men for trying to protect their wives from his lustful ways."

Damon went rigid.

He had sunk to such depths...

That even a goblin labeled him as lustful.

The sun's warmth abruptly seemed distant.

"This world is horrible..." Damon whispered in a daze. "It should just be destroyed."

Such vicious lies had never entered his wildest dreams.

Gabo nodded with fervor.

"Exactly! That Damon Grey is vile. I heard he seduced and drugged every woman he knows. He’s nothing like you, sir. A man like him couldn’t possibly be fierce enough to have four wives. He’s too cowardly and shameless."

Damon gradually bowed his head.

"Oh... is that so."

Another goblin abruptly chimed in using the fluent goblin language, spitting onto the earth.

"I heard he likes little girls."

Damon nearly wept.

He really did.

Next to him, Wendy and Renata shook as they suppressed their chuckles.

Matia kept her expression utterly impassive.

Lana, on the other hand, served as a Radiant Knight.

And her knightly honor would never tolerate insults toward her lord.

Matia spotted the flicker of fury in Lana’s gaze.

For an instant, she pondered intervening.

Then she silently relented.

Damon faced constant defamation.

Nothing could halt Lana regardless.

"Shut up," Lana commanded icily, unsheathing her sword.

"That is not true."

Her tone cut sharp, brimming with certainty.

"Damon Grey is a great hero of the Goddess Races."

She lifted her blade a bit.

"And it would behoove you to treat him with a warrior’s respect."

The goblins stared blankly.

They glanced among themselves.

Then returned their looks to her.

"Hmm," Gabo uttered.

"But we are."

He rubbed his chin.

"Damon Grey is very powerful. There’s even a massive bounty on his head. If you kill him you get a reward."

He bared a grin, revealing pointed fangs.

"The Snake Temple might even raise you to a Demon Lord candidate if you succeed."

Damon blinked.

Hold on.

A bounty existed on his head?

"Huh... wait."

He scowled.

"So you aren’t looking down on him?"

Gabo shook his head with vigor.

"No! By the Unknown God and the greatness of the Goddess, I would never do such a thing."

He thrust out his chest.

"Even if he’s a little eccentric, what peerless genius doesn’t have strange quirks?"

Damon erupted into sudden laughter.

"Hahahaha!"

"That’s true. That’s very true."

Emboldened, Damon chose to inject some exaggeration of his own.

"I heard he once killed a dragon from a thousand miles away with just his gaze."

The goblins inhaled sharply in awe.

"And I heard he defeated the Elf King in a fierce staring contest."

Even Damon possessed sufficient shame to avoid claiming victory over a Seventh Advancement being in a real battle.

The goblins enthusiastically contributed, piling on increasingly wild tales of Damon’s alleged exploits.

Eventually, Damon cleared his throat.

"By the way..."

He aimed for a nonchalant tone.

"Where exactly did you hear those... rumors about him?"

Gabo replied without delay.

"Oh, that information is verified."

"It came from Bakemon Baal."

Damon halted.

His features gradually hardened.

"Oh... you don’t say."

That scoundrel.

Bakemon Baal.

He refused to accept loss gracefully, opting instead to defame Damon throughout the world.

Damon inclined his head deliberately.

"Fine," he grumbled frostily.

"Fine."

Gabo was on the verge of responding when he abruptly stopped.

From the meadow's edge, a sizable band emerged.

They were enormous beings with tan hides and enormous arms slung over their shoulders. Thick plating encased their forms, and each one exuded a formidable presence.

Trolls.

The instant Damon spotted them, he grew somewhat alert.

At his side, Matia lightly flicked her wrist, conjuring a blade of pure frost.

"Our luck is truly spectacular, don’t you think?" she remarked evenly. "We keep running into familiar faces."

Damon barely acknowledged her words. His attention drifted to other matters.

She spoke truly.

This indeed evoked memories of the Duhu Mountains once more.

First came the redcap goblins.

Now trolls.

What might emerge afterward?

Perhaps ogres.

Perhaps something far grimmer.

Nevertheless, Damon stayed composed.

Who could tell, he mused. Perhaps they won’t strike. This is the Demon Continent, after all. And we appear as demonkin in their eyes.

Evidently, his assumption proved false.

The goblins swiftly arrayed themselves behind him.

Their positioning remained adaptable and relaxed, evidently crafted to allow escape should the situation sour.

Judging by appearances, they planned to flee if required.

Damon positioned himself at the forefront of the party, utterly serene.

Why should he not be?

Indeed, the trolls were heavily equipped and mighty.

But at highest, they reached the Third Class Advancement.

Beings of that caliber could raze a minor village, perhaps even a feebly guarded settlement.

To Damon, such feats signified little.

He could eradicate them.

Even a Fourth Class individual might falter against trolls due to their freakish healing powers.

Yet Damon transcended the average Fourth Class fighter.

Their healing would fail to preserve them.

They would perish all the same.

Yet, one query lingered in his mind.

Damon eyed Gabo.

"Why are you all so on guard?" he inquired. "Don’t monstrous species get along here?"

Gabo gaped at him incredulously.

"Absolutely not."

He huffed.

"Most tribes don’t even get along with their own kind, much less different races."

Then he gestured at the nearing trolls.

"And those guys?"

He clenched his hold on his armament.

"They’re bandits."

Damon nodded gradually.

That explained it.

Bandits disregarded lineage or clan.

To them, all beings served as quarry.