My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

There was something warm flowing. A faint metallic and fishy scent clung to the air. She tried to breathe, but the overwhelming familiar stench filled her nose, dragging her deep into a dark memory of a chaotic battlefield, where she had swung her spear as fast and as chaotically as possible.

The suffocating smell filled the air, the earth beneath her boots sticky and soft with it.

This…

Her eyes snapped open from her unconscious state. Her face was half covered in a flowing pool of red.

Blood.

This was blood. It glittered faintly in the light from above, flowing across her body in heavy pools.

Her body ached with dull pains so overwhelming she could not even identify their source. That was how much pain she was in, how much abuse she had taken.

But… this wasn't her blood.

She pushed herself out of the pool, raising her head. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw the source of the half-dried pool that was thickening by the moment.

Right in front of her.

Raising her gaze… there was a porcupine. A porcupine with tens of thin spikes.

But as her eyes regained focus, she realized… this was not a porcupine.

This was a man. The man whose hand she was shackled to.

The spikes weren't spikes at all, but ice, each one piercing through his body.

Abellona's hands trembled. He was still standing there, his body, his neck, his lungs—all of him was impaled.

She turned her gaze around the cave. This was the same cave they had left from. How… did they get back here?

Where was Ashcroft? How was she still alive?

She walked toward him, her hands moving slowly to his face.

This stranger, who refused to tell her his name. She brushed aside his blood-soaked hair.

She stumbled back when she saw the cold, icy eyes that remained blazing with an uncontrollable will. There was no fear in those eyes, only fury. Fury that burned like a flame that would not go out, even if the flames of his life force were extinguished.

It almost seemed indomitable.

Abellona stared, wide-eyed, until one of the ice spikes broke, melting and shattering on the floor.

Only then did she regain her senses. She rushed to his side.

"He's still alive despite all this…"

She knew it. Even though she couldn't sense any vital signs, her reasoning was simple.

She was still alive. If he were dead, the chains of the magic shackles binding them together would have killed her too.

There was a pause. She was unsure how to save him. If she touched him, she might snuff out whatever remained of his life.

He was broken, almost beyond repair.

Did he risk his life to protect her?

With the last dregs of her strength, she created a wave of destruction magic, shattering the ice that kept her from laying him down.

Slowly, she laid him flat on the ground.

Reaching into her spatial ring, she pulled out everything she could find that might let her attempt the impossible—bringing back a man with no vital signs.

One of the ice spikes had gone through his heart. She was sure he was not far from death.

She gritted her teeth. Ashcroft had taken her knights.

Now, she had killed her reluctant champion.

It was like everyone who got close to her died.

She bit her lip.

"I really only leave destruction in my wake."

That was why she wanted him to live. She opened the potions and began pouring them into his open wounds.

She grabbed a bandage and began covering the gaping holes.

Taking out a needle, a red flash of magic glowed at her fingertips.

"I can't do healing magic… but I learned to compensate with more mundane skills."

"Are you listening to me…" she whispered, as she used fiber thread to sew his torn body back together.

Abellona didn't know if he would live. If he died, so would she. But if he was still in there, she wanted him to hear her voice. She didn't know what to say—she wasn't close to him.

She didn't even know his name. So she spoke of the person she knew best.

Pushing the thread through his skin, the needle was coated with her attribute of destruction, breaking his tough flesh so she could save him.

"Being born a princess isn't all its glitter and gold… it's really hard…"

She pressed down on his abdomen with red-bloody hands, forcing his torn intestines back into his body.

"No one asked me what I wanted to be, or what I wanted to do with my life. I was just pushed through an education program and ordered to excel…"

She bit off the bloody end of the thread with her teeth, spitting it out before threading another needle.

"While I wasn't given the choice of the family I was born into… I at least hoped we could be like other families. Apparently not. My siblings weren't my allies. They were my competitors…"

She poured another potion across his body, pressing down on his chest in hopes of forcing out any clogged blood in his lungs.

"....it was hard to accept. I envied siblings who loved and trusted each other… so I naively tried to make a friend…"

Her breathing grew heavier, her body slick with his blood.

"I didn't think about how easily they could be turned against me. They were only my friends because their lord father wanted to support my rise… to the throne…"

Her voice grew soft.

"And when I failed to meet expectations, they moved to another sibling…"

She carefully broke the ice around his still heart, pouring more potion as it melted into water.

"And anyone else who genuinely liked me, or wanted to be around me… died. That was how I got the name Abellona of Destruction. It wasn't just because of my attribute…"

She bit her lips, looking down at his chest. She had patched him up as best as she could. Her red eyes flickered with a distant, tearful reflection.

"It wasn't because I was a victor of many wars. It was because my followers and supporters just keep dying for me. I tried to act numb, creating the image of a powerful ruler, but it hurts. I hate it. I hate it. I hate that the more people die, the more others want to follow me…"

She leaned over Damon's unmoving body, a soft tear dripping from her eye.

"So please… just this once, goddess… let this one person live. Please… live…"

She stayed there, praying in her heart—for this stranger, and for herself.

But there was no response. Of course there wouldn't be.

At least this time, she would die too. She relaxed her head, waiting for the inevitable.

There was a soft smile on her face.

"I never imagined I'd die with a stranger in a cave… I don't mind it…"

"I mind it."

Her head snapped to the side.

Those cold, dark eyes were staring at her.

"I'm not dead yet… not until I settle my grudge… in blood."