My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

A day had passed since Damon's caravan had encountered the orcs, and after having their carriages fixed, they continued their journey.

Aleph didn't forget to curse Damon for being a slave driver — evil and demonic — for making him build a whole train in a day… and later dismantling it.

Damon felt a little bad about that, so he didn't make things difficult for the androgynous elf. He had really worked overtime for the caravan.

Too bad Damon took all the glory.

During this time, Damon had been hesitant about a few things.

For one, he had questions about the First Epoch he wanted to ask Unnoticed Singularity.

The second was a bit more personal. His gaze lingered on a man who looked weary and tired, still wearing a gentle smile.

Linga Felt.

This man knew the circumstances that led to his parents' death during the demon wars.

Damon hadn't cared before—he had accepted they died at war. But now, seeing Linga, he wanted to know.

Knowing wouldn't change anything, but he still wanted closure.

Especially since they were getting closer to his village.

However, Damon eventually decided to hold off on that. He'd ask when they made it to his village.

Linga Felt wasn't going anywhere.

They were about two days away. It wouldn't be long now.

Damon sat in the corner of the caravan campsite when they stopped for the night.

Among these people, Damon was revered as both a leader and a savior — yet at his core, he was still the same gloomy person who didn't like interacting with crowds.

Food was abundant since the orcs had given them their rations.

The merchants were in a good mood since Damon had asked them to value their goods — which they did — and he paid them off for their losses.

It didn't seem like anyone jacked up the prices. Their reverence for him had prevented their greed.

He had saved their lives and returned their lost wealth — which he didn't even have to do.

Damon could hear the laughter of happy children in the caravan that had once carried only somber and hopeless energy.

For whatever reason, seeing that made his heart feel lighter.

This was a new feeling. He couldn't help but smile.

"People are amazing, aren't they… Companionship is one of the most beautiful things."

Damon didn't need to look. He hadn't sensed him arrive — but that was par for the course for someone called Unnoticed Singularity.

"Human nature is born in primary groups. Man doesn't have it at birth — and it decays in isolation."

Singularity nodded at Damon's words.

"Yes… isolation is cruel. I think I can understand Unnoticed Singularity more now. Why he would want to be a part of me."

He sat down next to Damon, staring at the flickering fire.

Dred's wings fluttered as he landed beside the flames with some raw meat skewers.

"You really aren't a people person."

Twilight and the others showed up almost out of nowhere, seating themselves around the fire.

"We figured we might keep you company. Think of it as us helping the emo kid."

Damon chuckled.

"The emo kid appreciates the company."

They sat and started roasting the meat over the fire, laughing and telling jokes — some of which Damon didn't quite get.

Unnoticed Singularity glanced at him.

"Suppose it's hard for you to get these jokes… since you aren't actually an Outsider."

Damon raised an eyebrow, catching the calm expression on their faces.

"Since when did you find out?"

Singularity shrugged.

"I had some clues. You're able to speak our language because of a skill, right?"

Damon chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

"You're more sly than I thought. As expected of a guy who was a former Old One."

Dred sneered, clutching his chest.

"I'm so heartbroken. I thought you were one of us."

Damon sighed.

"Aren't I? We're all people who got royally screwed by the Unknown God. We're kindred spirits."

They glanced at each other — then burst into laughter.

Saint raised his cup.

"I'll drink to that."

Damon looked around at them.

"I won't try to pry information out of you guys, but I'll appreciate it if you share."

Twilight crossed his arms.

"That's a really manipulative way of getting information — guilt-tripping, huh?"

Damon smiled, raising his cup.

"I'll drink to that."

Twilight chuckled.

"Suppose I should go first."

He looked at the twin moons in the sky.

"I was born in a noble family, hailed as a prodigy. Some even said I'd rival Sera's Blade. Life should've been good… until one day, my attribute mutated. My family began to shun me. Naturally, I got tired of it. So I took the family heirloom dagger and set out. The memories of the life I lived before guided me. That's how I met these guys. The end."

Damon chuckled, recognizing how Twilight had summarized what was clearly a tragic life.

He didn't linger — not wanting to dig too deep into wounds that clearly still hurt.

Saint lowered his head.

"My parents were actually good… but they got killed. I had to survive on my own. You can imagine how life treats orphans… since you're one yourself."

Wimpy chuckled bitterly.

"Geez, almost all of us are orphans, huh? What's with the crazy difficulty setting? Mine's more or less the same. Slum gangsters. Too much fallout. I gambled as a street kid to survive. Life's a game — where's the fun if you don't live on the edge?"

Damon understood now why his class was called Thrill Seeker. This guy had the devil's luck — the kind that could get out of anything with just luck and a few tricks.

Ilukras smiled, shaking his head at Wimpy's playful way of hiding his pain.

"I came from a monastery that preached harmony in a world of war. We were heretics. It was peaceful… until the monastery was destroyed. The monks went crazy one day — started killing each other. I alone survived. I travel the world in search of harmony. I've found none. Hopefully our old world has some."

Damon narrowed his eyes.

Monks… going insane and fighting to the death?

Aleph sneered, his elf ears twitching.

"Don't even look at me. I don't have a tragic story. I was born in a family of mathematicians. I didn't have much — only a loving family, lots of money, and happiness. Painful, I know. I left looking for a reason why I was in this world. I hate how everyone's an orphan with some sob story."

Damon could understand a little why Aleph didn't like orphans.

He turned his eyes to the lunar moth, Dred, who lowered his head, fists clenched.

"We lived in a secret part of the Anarchy Mountains, worshipping the moon. Safe. Hidden. Not many people knew we lived there, and those who did didn't care enough to bother us. It was a small tribe. We were against war and violence. It was boring. We weren't a warrior race… until one day, we all went crazy. It was as if a voice — or instinct — forced us to fight to the death."

He squeezed the pendant on his neck, shaped like the moon.

"When I came to, only a few of us were alive. I tried to stop them, but it was pointless. My mother died trying to protect us. The voice… it took me over again. When I came to, I had killed the one responsible — but all my tribe were dead. All of them. The voice… the will or instinct… was gone. As if it only wanted us to fight."

Damon narrowed his eyes.

What could have caused such a strange phenomenon? A monastery of monks driven to madness. A peaceful tribe forced to slaughter each other.

Only one possibility came to mind — a far-fetched theory.

Unnoticed Singularity glanced at him calmly.

"It's as you thought."

He stared at the flames.

"It's the Pillar of Conflict."