My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger-Chapter 321 - 322: Ancient Battle

Lysithara had been a ruin to begin with—its sky bleak even in the day… the sunlight had seemed dull, filtered through a haze of gloom, and the shattered city was almost solemn in its ruined beauty… alive only with distant monsters and the skeletal wreckage of a forgotten age, its towering spires standing as gravestones beneath the black crack in the sky, that fractured wound casting everything beneath it into shadow.

But now—under the darkness of nightfall—the city was at war with itself.

Evangeline's light had drawn something out… something that existed within the black rift… and in response, the ancient denizens of Lysithara—the cursed, the malformed, the dead and the defiled—rose from the stones, clawed from the gutters and walls and collapsed cathedrals.

Some had once been human… others had never been anything close.

They rose to fight—fueled by vengeance, hatred, or the memory of duty—against the horrors from the blackness of the rift.

The moment Damon landed on the cracked, dust-covered street outside the broken window… he was swallowed by the maelstrom.

The sky screamed with battle. The earth shook with every clash of the titans. The heavens themselves quaked under the fury of those powerful enough to tear through continents. The air was aflame with destruction—molten rocks and blazing meteors were being wrenched from the sky by sheer force of will.

And Damon—he was in the center of it.

A warzone.

The creatures around him were weaker, yes, but it was no less chaotic. Flares of sickening color lit up the ruins as malformed horrors fought pitch-black beasts—some like hounds made of liquid night, others like crawling masses of teeth and bone.

At his feet, his own shadow began to swirl… darker… thicker…

He didn't notice how cold it had gotten.

He ducked low, rolling beneath the legs of a four-meter skeleton wielding a chunk of stone as a mace.

Evangeline was beside him—he barely registered her presence before raising his hand to beckon the others.

When a chunk of a nearby house—wall, roof, everything—was hurled like debris into the sky, straight in their direction.

Xander rolled forward, diving out of the way just as it slammed past.

Damon grabbed Sylvia's hand, dragging her into a narrow alley that seemed less choked with carnage. As they passed one of the pitch-black creatures from the rift, it turned its featureless face—if it even had a face—toward his shadow… then toward Evangeline.

There was a pulse in its form, a swirl in its void-like eyes…

It ignored its current opponent entirely, and reached for her with one of its long, twisted limbs—its fingers like tendrils of dripping ink.

Damon swung his sword, and it felt like slicing through a thick pool of stagnant water. No resistance. No impact. But it recoiled.

He shoved Evangeline deeper into the alley.

The creature tried to follow—but the malformed rotfolk it had been fighting wasn't about to let it escape. The two crashed again, vanishing behind a collapsing building.

And then the realization struck Damon cold.

It was just as he feared—they were after Evangeline. She had acted as the beacon. He didn't even need to ask why.

They hadn't appeared during the day—no, it was probably one of this cursed city's eldritch laws. They sought light… and Evangeline, with her illuminating magic, had become their lighthouse.

That meant things didn't look good for their party.

Evangeline's magic was light itself… and without light, she was fighting with one hand tied behind her back. Sylvia's moonlight magic was just as glaring. Leona? She was a walking Incarnation of the storm—and storms didn't come without lightning.

Which meant the only ones who could truly fight at full power under this cursed night… were him, Xander, and Matia.

Half their strength would be bound by the rules of this damned city.

And the black tide was still coming.

Something smashed through the buildings, crashing down from the heavens above—its form grotesque, twisted, its blood a void-like blackness that oozed and stained the air. It was a creature of the rift… something far higher in rank than anything they'd faced. It was injured, half-dead even, yet it still turned its eyes toward Evangeline.

Damon gritted his teeth.

"Sylvia… use your skill. Lead us to safety…"

It was a gamble. A brutal one. He had no idea what toll it would take on Sylvia, but he couldn't—he wouldn't—leave Evangeline to die. He couldn't abandon her… even if her death, or the horrors that might follow, could end this madness.

Sylvia was already moving.

"Left—now," she snapped, her voice slicing through the canopy of violence above them.

The dying void creature—its chest caved in, its spine snapped—slit its own arm in final defiance, releasing a twisted essence that birthed five six-meter tall humanoid creatures with four arms. The moment the creatures emerged, its parent dissipated into darkness.

Those monsters came after them immediately.

Damon's party, small and compact, were all at the first-class advancement—they could slip between most monsters with relative easy. Under Sylvia's guidance, they sprinted, weaving through the chaos of the battlefield. But these new creatures—offspring of that higher void being—were fast. Faster than expected. Though weaker than their origin, they were still far beyond what most could handle.

They carved through the monsters in their way, their black forms violent, single-minded, each one fixated on Evangeline.

Damon clenched his teeth, thinking, Anything… anything I can do…

At his feet, his shadow swelled unnaturally.

A giant blade dropped from the sky. He barely dodged it—throwing himself into a dive and shoving Leona out of harm's way. His lip split as he hit the ground. But he didn't care. His mind was on fire. His shadow—it was acting strange. No, it was reacting strange.

He bit down, a wild thought forming.

"Sylvia… where are we going?" he called out.

Her face was pale, blood dripping from her nose, eyes strained as she peered into countless futures. She was going blind again—paying the price. But this time she'd learned from last mistakes. She was only sacrificing one eye.

"There's… a cathedral," she said, barely holding her voice steady. "It's protected… the magic there will keep us safe. Hurry!"

Damon nodded grimly. "Go. I'll buy you time."

He clenched his fists. "Do you still have that orb? The one we took from the Beldam's nest—the one that absorbs magic?" ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Sylvia pulled it from her pouch and threw it to him.

He caught it, then without pause, tossed it to Evangeline. "Charge this. With your magic."

She didn't hesitate—pouring her light into the orb. When she tossed it back, there was no question in her eyes—just urgency.

"What are you—"

He caught it, grinning through the blood on his lips. "Lead them to safety. I'll catch up."

Her eyes widened. "No…Damon "

But it was too late. His body dissolved into shadows, disappearing like smoke on the wind.

Evangeline stood frozen—until a flare of light ignited on the rooftop above, catching the attention of one of the twisted beasts. It turned from her, lured by the decoy. It was already wounded, torn apart by Lysithara's native horrors.

She bit her lip, her breath caught in her throat, and shoved Sylvia and Leona forward.

"Move!" she shouted, pushing them into motion.

A single tear rolled down her cheek as she turned and ran.

Up above, on the shattered rooftop, Damon took a slow, deep breath.

He was the fastest. And there was still that one skill… the one he'd never used. But maybe—just maybe—it would work.

He raised the orb in his hand, now gleaming with Evangeline's magic, and pointed it at the advancing creature.

"Shadow Control…" he whispered, the air trembling around him. "The skill that allows me to command all Masterless shadows…"