My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Three children had gone missing… no—three children had been found dead.

They had died in the most gruesome ways possible. The first was the young girl—she had died by a thousand cuts.

The second was a young boy—he had been burned and charred, intentionally left with most of his body remaining except all burnt.

He was alive, but he was better off dead… his eyes had melted, still open, trapped in perpetual fullness, as if only his body was alive but his soul was gone.

The healers had declared him dead, even though his mother refused to let him go—because his heart was still beating and his lungs still heaving.

He died on the second day. His mother's mournful cry had echoed through the village… she swore she had seen Damon teleport out of the room when her son burned.

The third child… was in a room with her sister. Her head had been twisted off, blood spraying across the walls and ceiling—dyeing everything in red, even her sister, who had witnessed the horror.

The younger sister lost her voice… yet she saw who did it.

Today, the village would get the confirmation they needed.

Some of the travellers were already planning to ambush the suspect—no, the perpetrator.

Who else had the power to do this?

Yet he was so tyrannical no one could do anything to him.

He either denied any accusation or refused to respond.

The whole village was angry… how could he do this?

Like masses ready to die fighting a tyrant, the villagers and travellers marched toward Damon's home with pitchforks and flames.

Chanting: "Kill one, kill us all!"

If he was going to kill their children… he might as well kill the parents too.

They carried the little girl that had gone mute with them. She was the witness, the one who saw who ripped her sister's head off.

Outraged, these people hated more than they feared.

Perhaps it was the same for the common man—one day, he would be pushed so far he would no longer fear the crown.

This had been the cause of the Peasant Revolution in the past…

Except Damon never imagined he would be the tyrant they would be facing.

As they reached his home, Damon sighed, walking out of the house with a staff in his hand. Black flames continuously swirled around it as he charged it with ashborn.

When he stepped into view, the staff sank into the shadows. These last days had been hard on him too…

He truly felt indignant—this was a sinister scheme. Every time he fought the spirit, it refused to die, always escaping.

He had sent Unnoticed Singularity's party to investigate, giving them a handsome commission for the job. He was expecting to hear from them soon.

Until then, it was his word against all the evidence that pointed to him.

The first girl was killed with a thousand cuts—after he had threatened the village head with the same fate days earlier.

The second had been burned… just when he had been seen using fire.

The third's head was ripped off… that could have been anyone with strength, but they just happened to have a witness—one who apparently survived the encounter but had lost her voice.

Damon glanced at the mob, all of them resolved to die if they had to.

The father of the young blonde girl who had died days earlier held an axe, rage burning in his eyes. He looked like he had nothing left to lose.

The village head fumed with righteous hatred, now emboldened by the crowd.

"Damon Grey… you have committed atrocities since you came to this village. We lived a peaceful life until you came. You have no regard for human life and no mercy even for children… I condemn you in the name of the Empire, its people, and its goddess."

Damon wore an impassive expression.

The village head continued with Neil at his side, holding a rusty sword.

"How do you plead? I advise you surrender."

Damon watched him without a flicker of emotion.

"Not guilty."

The old village head sighed, nodding at Neil.

"Bring the witness."

He turned around. From behind him, Seta walked out holding a little girl in her arms.

When the little girl made eye contact with Damon, she trembled with fear—as if she were seeing something monstrous.

Her small face went pale, her breathing hitched, and she began to gasp… hyperventilating from terror. Seta hugged her tightly, rubbing her back and whispering to calm her.

"Don't be scared, Ena. No one can hurt you now. Ena… can you show me who attacked you and your sister?"

The small girl with short bangs, no older than seven, visibly stiffened. She glanced at Damon… and to no one's surprise, she lifted her trembling hand and pointed straight at him.

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

That was all the mob needed to forget their fear of his power. The adventurers among them roared with rage—or perhaps to boost their courage—before charging forward.

The first sword came down toward him. Damon sidestepped, grabbed the man, and threw him back into the crowd, sending several tumbling like dominoes.

He didn't speak. There was no point—he knew that.

"Arrghh!" Neil raised his hand, earth magic bursting up from the ground, his rusty sword empowered by it.

Damon didn't even bother dodging. This level of magic couldn't break through even his most basic resistance.

The rusted steel shattered—along with the weak traces of earth magic.

A spear flew toward him, thrown by an adventurer. Damon caught it effortlessly and hurled it back—not at the man's body, but at the shaft—striking hard enough to drop him without killing him.

A group of villagers and travellers surrounded him.

"Die, fiend!"

Damon took one step—and vanished, teleporting away.

Torches and bursts of magic flew at where he had been, lighting the area in chaotic flashes of color.

He dodged them all, making no effort to strike back.

As his patience waned, his killing intent grew. He grabbed one man by the collar—

Before he could crush his bones, Saint landed, the air trembling with the force of his magic.

"Enough! Everyone stop!"

The mob, bruised and battered, froze in place. Unnoticed Singularity and the rest of the party appeared, closing in behind him.

Saint raised his hand. "I know you are angry and scared, but I assure you there is a reasonable explanation for all of this."

Dred fluttered down from the sky. "We've had eyes on him, and he didn't do it."

Unnoticed Singularity waved his hand. "We've found a clue about what's happening. This village is haunted by an evil spirit, and we will deal with it."

"We don't believe you—you're working with him!" the village head roared.

Twilight's glare was like a blade. A tattoo stretched from his arm to his neck began to glow faintly.

"Talk again and you die… old man."

The village head gulped, stepping back.

Saint walked toward the mob, his calm and soothing aura radiating outward. It worked—their rage softened, their breathing slowed. He made them a promise to find evidence.

The mob reluctantly left, knowing they couldn't do anything here.

Unnoticed Singularity let out a long breath of relief.

He looked at Damon, his expression serious.

"We have trouble… serious trouble."