My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

The options were laid bare before him — what made this orc different from the rest? How did he achieve the feat of uniting the other orc war chiefs of the same rank?

Damon dived left, evading a punch. Ahh, yes... he could see it now.

He jumped and double-kicked the orc, regaining some HP from the damage dealt. The towering orc stumbled back a few steps from the momentum. Damon pressed forward — an uppercut, then a swift roll into a backhanded swing of his fist, followed by a brutal headbutt. Grabbing the orc war chief's hair, Damon brought his knee smashing into Iron's nose.

The orc regained his senses and grabbed Damon. At that range, it would've been ideal to activate Ashborn and burn the orc, but this was a purely physical duel.

Instead, Damon slammed the back of his head into Iron's face again, causing the orc's blood to pour over his already-bleeding scalp. His long hair was soaked in a mix of sweat and blood.

They huffed and continued to clash.

Dred narrowed his eyes.

"They've been at this for fifteen minutes already... I don't think he can last much longer."

He glanced at Twilight. "Haven't you discovered what's weird about this orc?"

Twilight shook his head. "I know something's off — just not what."

Damon rolled to the side, breathing heavily. His body was black and purple from the brutal hits. Blood clots gathered under his skin, and his mouth filled with blood.

There was no way he could last long enough for the knights to arrive. And if they did, the civilians wouldn't survive the battle that followed.

As much as Damon was used to taking lives, his objective wasn't to kill — it was to save the caravan.

He activated [Appraisal] once more. This time, Iron was weak enough for it to work. What he saw almost gave him pause.

He smiled.

This would be his chance to win. It wasn't that he found a weakness to exploit — it was simple, really, why Iron was so strong.

Why he seemed more intelligent than the other orcs.

Iron had a skill for [Precognition]. That was how he predicted Damon's moves.

He had a skill that let him grow stronger the more damage he took.

And lastly, a skill that made his body tougher than iron — hence the name.

Damon slid across the ground, raising his left hand. He caught a blow from Iron, grabbing the orc's fist. Damon's arm twisted and his bones snapped slightly under the strain.

Before Iron could pull back, shadows wrapped around Damon's arm — and Iron's right arm — binding them together with [Shadow Armor].

The skill [Shadow Armor] let Damon form hard shadows around his body like armor. He had promised not to use armor on himself — but never said he wouldn't use it on Iron.

He formed a gauntlet to lock their arms together.

Iron smiled, his breath close enough that Damon could feel it.

"You tied yourself to me, human... now you can't run."

Damon chuckled coldly. With both their arms tied, they could only fight with one arm and their legs — no room to dodge now.

He leaned close and whispered:

"I see it now... your secret."

Iron hesitated — and that was all the opening Damon needed.

His Skill Activated [5x] giving his Strength a Boost

After its cooldown, the skill was usable again. Damon boosted his strength and delivered an uppercut, burying his fist into Iron's eye.

He ignored the pain in his body and the dullness of his eyes, focusing his shadow perception instead.

Iron retaliated. Damon tilted his head, dodging, then raised his leg and kicked the one place he hadn't touched all fight — the orc's groin.

"ARRGGG—!" Iron howled, dropping to his knees for the first time since the battle began.

With their faces now level, Damon didn't need to leap. He had a direct line to his temples.

He pummeled them with all his might.

Fist after fist, blood pooled steadily. Damon's knuckles cracked against the orc's skull.

The pain of being kicked in the groin was truly abominable.

Yet in the cheering crowd, a red squirrel solemnly nodded in approval.

In a formal duel, it might be considered dishonorable. But not illegal. And this was a duel with an orc — they had no such rules.

Iron, recovering slightly from the agony, tried to lift his bleeding head — but Damon was ruthless.

Another kick to the groin.

Followed by a jab to the eyes — effectively blinding the orc.

Still, Iron knew: if he let Damon have his way, he would die.

He reached out to grab Damon — but the bastard pulled him with the locked arm, drop-kicked him, then grabbed one of his tusks and slammed his head into the ground.

"Iron's losing to a human..."

The orc warriors murmured among themselves.

"He's weak in the balls..."

Iron heard them as Damon slammed his head again.

"ARRGHHHRRGHH!" he roared. His third-rank strength surged. He dragged Damon down with him, trying to crush him with his full weight.

There was no resistance. Just Damon's cold smile.

As he was pulled down, Damon leaned in and whispered into Iron's ear:

"You've lost your monster core... haven't you?"

Iron's eyes widened. Damon wrapped his arm around his neck — a chokehold aimed to break it.

Iron tried to resist, but Damon tightened the grip.

"You aren't a monster anymore. That's why you're more cunning than the others. You've left the monster evolution path. Should I tell them...?"

Iron's grip faltered.

Damon wrapped his legs around the orc's torso, twisting his neck further.

"You have a class... you aren't a monster anymore. What will your fellow orcs do when they find out?"

He twisted — Iron tried to resist in the opposite direction.

With a voice like a demon, Damon whispered:

"Yield... or die."

Iron felt his bones creaking painfully.

He looked at his people — wild, cheering, reckless orcs. Fools who wouldn't survive without him.

He roared in rage.

"AREEGHHHHRHH!"

Then tapped Damon's arm.

"I yield..."