My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

What was wrong with the women in his life?

Why did they always assume he only called when he wanted something?

Couldn't he call just because he missed them? Or simply to talk?

It made him seem like a bad person.

Damon felt indignation rise in his chest. Sylvia had said the same thing the last time he reached out, and now Lilith too.

"Hmph. Why do you assume I want something? Can't I just call because I felt like it?" he asked, exasperated.

Lilith snickered on the other side of the line.

"So, you don't want anything?"

Damon bit his lip, his eye twitching slightly.

"I mean... I do want something... but assuming that's the only reason I ever call? That's just cruel."

Lilith sighed—long, tired, and deeply unimpressed.

"I've been trying to reach you for the past few days. Do you have something against your pager? Why didn't you pick up?"

Damon glanced at the distant hills, scratching his head awkwardly.

Right. His pager had been stuffed into his shadow storage. Out of sight, out of mind.

"I was on a journey of self-discovery," he said, putting on his most pious tone.

"Maybe you didn't realize it, but I'm trying to better myself... as a human being."

"You're on a journey for revenge. That's not bettering yourself—it's deepening the hole you're already in. Try again."

What was up with this junior of hers? He was just too shameless.

Damon sighed. She was really getting pushy.

"Funny you'd say that, because I haven't killed that many people. Just a couple guys from the underworld. And some elves from the Moonglades. Other than that, I've been saving people. Regardless of race."

Lilith's voice shifted, slightly sharper now.

"Elves from the Moonglades... huh. So the White Ruler really wants you dead if he's been acting that brazenly in Valtheron."

She paused, then her tone softened just a bit.

"Do you want me to come to you? They wouldn't dare attack if the heir of one of the empire's Grand Duchies was by your side."

He appreciated her concern—really, he did—but he wasn't going to need her for this.

"As much as I'd love to hide behind a beautiful woman's skirts, I won't be needing your help. Not yet."

Lilith chuckled. Did he eventually plan to hide behind her skirt?

"You really have no shame. You didn't have to put it like that."

Damon smiled, genuinely enjoying her voice.

"I'll fill you in later, but I do sort of need a favor. I need you to take in some people."

Lilith was already suspicious.

"What kind of favor? And how many people are we talking?"

Damon cleared his throat, guilt creeping in.

"About... a few hundred to a thousand."

Silence.

"That's going to be a logistics nightmare," she muttered at last. "But I can shelter that many in my family's domain."

Damon gulped, smiling sheepishly.

"Erm... I'm glad you agree. But... they're orcs."

Another pause—longer this time.

"What?"

"Orcs? Why—how do you even—no, never mind. Why do you have that many orcs?"

Damon rubbed the back of his head.

"Well, it's a long story. But I was thinking you could use the Key of Lazarak to house them in the Tomb of Lazarak."

She sounded even more irritated now.

"A long story? Good. I have time."

Damon put on his most harmless smile, even though she couldn't see it.

"Senior... are you angry?"

He heard the sound of something being crushed. Her voice came calm and steady.

"No, not really. At this point, I'm just used to your reckless and impulsive actions."

So he told her everything. From the beginning. How he ended up involved with the orcs, what happened along the way—he left out only the part about his conversation with the Elf Queen.

Lilith took it all in quietly, including details about the eccentric adventurers' party. Eventually, they circled back to the core issue: the orcs.

"The safest option," she said coldly, "would be to abandon them."

Damon nodded slowly. He could see her logic.

"However, you want to recruit them. And we do need the manpower."

A smile tugged at his lips.

"So how do we get them into the tomb?" she asked. "Where are you right now?"

"The key's with you, right? You're more proficient in its use." he asked calmly.

"I'm far from your location," she said. "But I can change course. If I take a teleportation gate, I'll be three days north of you."

Damon narrowed his eyes.

"And where exactly would that be?"

"Weion City. It's a small dungeon city. I'll meet you—and the orcs—at the forest ruins. There's an abandoned fort there from the Peasant Revolution."

Damon glanced over his shoulder. The orcs were working, fixing the carriages and wagons. Civilians kept their distance.

Another group of orcs was returning from a skirmish, dragging blindfolded knights behind them.

Pathetic.

These were the men who were supposed to guard this region?

The orcs hadn't just defeated them—they'd captured them all alive.

"So, three days then?" Lilith's voice turned soft—almost excited to see him.

Damon exhaled slowly.

"No. I can't."

"Huh? Why not?"

"I want to see you too. And hang out with the three of you. But... I have to go to my village."

There was a pause.

"Then how do we get the orcs into the tomb?"

"I'll give Iron my pager and send my new shadow minion to keep an eye on them. You can stay in contact with them."

"And you?"

"I've got the Whisper Coin. I can get another pager."

She sighed, disappointed.

"Fine. I'll keep your pager until you come back."

Damon nodded with a smile.

"Bringing the orcs to the tomb benefits us both. We can use them to expand control of the tomb—and secure more of its secrets."

"I understand. I'll meet them in three days."

He glanced again at the two hundred knights, tied and blindfolded, lying in the dirt.

"Oh, right—make space for the knights too. It'd be nice if we could indoctrinate them."

Lilith groaned this was going to be annoying.

"You really do love leaving the annoying work to me."