My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Construction wasn't easy. There were just too many people, and building and creating metal was taxing on Aleph a few hours in.

He collapsed on his back, sweat pooling around him.

Wimpy groaned next to him, having used his attribute, energy manipulation, again and again to give Aleph and Ilukras mana.

His gaze fell on Damon, who had been creating runes non-stop for the past few hours, carving them at the bottom of the makeshift train.

"Hhuh. Ahm. Are you even human? Why do you have so much mana..."

Damon was already feeling dizzy. Still, he closed his bloodshot eyes and smiled calmly.

"This is good practice for me... Now get up. Let's assemble it."

They groaned, standing up. Aleph, who had made all the metal and designed it based on the blueprint, bent over and began to throw up.

Honestly, Damon felt a little bad for the androgynous elf, but they were running out of time.

He looked over the distant hills.

The scouting party had long since been worn out, and the second wave of adventurers were fighting the orcs using hit-and-run tactics.

The next part was to assemble the materials. The whole caravan got to work, removing wooden slabs from the wagons and rearranging them inside, repurposing wheels and any useful part of the carriages.

By the time the sun was stretching over the horizon, they were done.

However, the sounds of orcs were louder than ever—their battle cries, war calls, and massive drumming.

Dred flew—or rather crashed down—covered in blood with a bleeding Twilight in tow. He huffed, holding his head.

His wings were torn in some parts, and his hair was disheveled.

Not long after, Unnoticed Singularity came back riding Damon's stag along with a few horses, but half the riders were gone.

Damon gritted his teeth.

It seemed most of the members of the second wave didn't survive.

Unnoticed Singularity dismounted.

"We lost a few people, but against the odds we're dealing with, it's a fair price."

Damon nodded, glancing at Dred.

"How long do we have...?"

Dred took a moment, then steadied his breath and downed a healing potion Aleph had tossed to him.

"We managed to make them go off course for a little while, but it's no good... even if we start moving now, they'll catch up in half a day or less."

Unnoticed Singularity bit his lips, feeling uncertain.

"Hunting parties are already after us as we speak. Half a day is how long it'll take the main force. But the hunters... might as well be here."

Damon didn't waste time or allow the despair to sink in.

"Everyone on board now. Abandon any unnecessary supplies—only food and essentials."

The merchants felt their blood run cold. Abandon the merchandise? What about their wealth? Their money?

"That's absurd... we'd suffer losses..."

Damon grabbed the merchant who said that.

"You only suffer losses when you're alive. If you stay, you die."

Still, this was going to earn him some resentment, and these merchants would have lost their means of livelihood. Some might become homeless.

What he said next surprised even him.

"I will reimburse all those who have suffered losses when the crisis is over."

The merchants glanced at each other. Not that they had a choice, but his word was all they had at this moment. It was plenty.

This was simply not his way of doing things, but this was what a leader would do. He may not like it, but it was the right call.

Over the hill, the sounds of war drums grew louder, and the panic made women, men, and children all rush into the metal makeshift train.

"Hurry! Get in..."

"Don't leave us!"

"Momma...!"

The different sounds made Damon feel an emotion he didn't understand. All he knew was it was heavy.

Horses were pushed inside the frame to act as the pulling force, and goods were loaded up.

Damon bit his lips, looking at what they had left behind—carriages of goods and wagons of half-broken wood.

Lena looked at the mess.

"We need to go... It's a shame we can't use this in any way. What a waste."

Damon narrowed his eyes.

Hmmm... what if they could? He smiled, grabbing one of the merchants.

"Do you still have barrels of alcohol in there?"

The man nodded slowly, his expression bitter at the loss.

"Yes... I had planned to restart my business in safer lands with fair taxation... ahh... bu-but now..."

Damon didn't care much for his sob story at the moment.

"I didn't ask for that. Just live, and you'll see another customer. How many do you have?"

He pointed at three wagons.

"All those are mine."

Damon nodded.

"Alright... go now."

The makeshift train, for lack of a better name, began to scrape across the green grass of the hills as horses and the people inside began to force its mechanisms to move its long body.

Runes under it with the word "feather" began to absorb Damon's magic, and slowly the weight of the train began to reduce.

Adventurers took positions around it with the remaining horses, and archers and anyone with ranged attacks opted to climb its metal body, acting as human turrets.

Damon's shadow perception picked up a group of orcs riding giant hyenas—or creatures that looked like them. They galloped through the hills, heading toward the caravan.

The train was already moving up the slopes and hills, carrying the people along. Damon remained still, not doing anything. He didn't follow.

Next to him, Unnoticed Singularity narrowed his eyes.

"Killing the hunting party will waste what little time and energy we have."

Damon nodded.

"Yes, I know that."

His gaze was not even in the direction of the approaching orcs.

"They'll catch up soon... and signal the main force."

Singularity narrowed his eyes.

"Nothing we can do about that now..." he paused, his gaze catching a small smile on Damon's face.

Then he chuckled.

"You're not serious."

Damon's smile widened.

"Did I ever tell you I was something of an arsonist?"

Unnoticed Singularity shook his head with an evil chuckle.

The distance wasn't much. The strong orcs and their mounts soon enough caught the scent of weak races. Their nostrils flared, and they could almost smell the blood.

"Rawr!"

They called out battle chants and rushed toward what seemed like a group of wagons and carriages.

They easily crossed the carriages, stopping when they found no one.

The leader of the hunting party stopped, calling out in Orchish as they followed the scents until a unique smell—not uncommon—seemed to be the strongest.

Before they could react, a small arrow came out of the shadows with a small spark.

"Arg...!"

Flames engulfed barrels of alcohol and the orcs, smoke rising into the sky.

With this simple act, Damon had spread smoke and masked their scents, buying them just a little more time.