My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger-Chapter 993 - 995: Tower Meeting

This was an insult.

Demons were a race that respected strength. They would not allow themselves to be humiliated by a nobody.

But demons were also cunning.

And that was exactly what Damon was counting on.

A white-haired demon stood with his arms crossed, fingers digging lightly into his sleeves as he stared at the towering pillars carved with the sigils of different demon lineages. Some of the markings were variations of ancient symbols tied to the demon lords themselves.

This was a communication array between tower lords.

And Bakemon could feel their displeasure in the air like static before a storm.

He was new here. Many of these demons were older. Some stood firmly in the fifth class. The rest were fourth class, each with partially formed ideas of a domain.

He was strong.

But he doubted this new demon in the tower could face several fifth-class demonkin at once.

Even though he had heard the rumors.

That the man had slain a fifth-class ghoul with a casual gesture.

No one believed that.

It had to be staged.

"Who is this fool? Why is he breaking tradition?"

"Clearly he doesn’t know his place," another tower lord snapped, irritation bleeding into his voice.

"It’s unwise to make so many enemies," a calmer voice added.

"I suppose I’m not the only one who received his declaration."

"So did I. His stupidity is refreshing. He will die shortly."

"I wouldn’t say that. Maybe he has the strength to back it up," a female voice said smoothly.

"If he doesn’t, I’ll make him my concubine," another demon woman said with arrogant amusement.

"What if he is stronger than we thought" another woman’s voice mocked her.

"Then I will be his concubine" she replied not believing for a moment it was a possibility.

Bakemon said nothing. He simply listened, eyes fixed on the pillars as the voices echoed around him.

"Could this be a trap? Perhaps he’s not some bumpkin," a steady voice suggested.

"Perhaps we should try communicating with him. He’s been amassing a massive force with this stunt. Monsters and demons alike are drawn to bold displays of power. It heats their blood."

"Bold displays of power heat anyone’s blood; it’s the oldest trick in the book, though an effective one." a nonchalant demon kin added.

Bakemon finally spoke, his voice measured and calm.

"I tried reaching out. I’m sure many of you have. His tower refuses communication. They only accept surrender."

A scoff echoed.

"Fool. Does he think because he defeated Zanat Zagan and has a few balrogs he’s unstoppable?" a woman’s sweet, entrancing voice said.

"That’s right. Zanat was not particularly strong. Defeating him is nothing."

Bakemon’s arms tightened across his chest. Though taming a balrog was no small feat, they had balrogs too, but some of them were minions of demon lords, not their subjects.

Something about this arrogance felt familiar. It made him anxious.

"Hm. The last time I experienced arrogance like this was from two people whose clash felt like a world being torn open." 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

The chamber grew quieter when he spoke. Bakemon was strong. More importantly, he was the son of Baal, known for his level head and strategic mind.

"What do you mean?" someone asked.

"The last time... was when I met the Unknown Ruler. Amon."

Whispers spread immediately.

The name Amon had become one of the most spoken names across the demon continent in the past year.

The demon whose features could not be seen. Formless and Immortal. A living legend. Who walked into the war games under the noses of the goddess races.

Many believed he was a fragment of Ashcroft that had gained consciousness.

Some factions even advocated gathering such fragments and offering them to Amon.

It was the reason why the temple was even giving out such sacred fragments as a reward for winning.

Whoever got it knew their true duty was to deliver it to him. It was a great honor.

After all, all demons venerated Ashcroft the Dominator. And if Amon was him, then he already had immense popular support, especially among young demons raised on stories of the golden age when demons nearly conquered the world.

Bakemon narrowed his eyes slightly.

"The only other person with arrogance to match... was Damon Grey. And as you all know, that wretch used underhanded tactics to cheat against a weakened Lord Amon, who had just fought all the goddess races alone."

Murmurs of agreement followed.

Naturally, demons would never accept that Amon lost fairly.

When they heard the name Damon Grey, their tone shifted instantly.

"Damon Grey? The hero of the goddess races?"

"I heard he was a racist who hated demons to his very soul. He advocated for our genocide."

"I heard he was an evil pervert who impregnated the daughter of the elf king Kadelas Moonveil and refused responsibility."

"Isn’t the Moonglades their greatest ally? How could he?"

"I also heard he made an innocent girl kneel in public and call him daddy."

"What an animal..."

They cursed.

"Yes," Bakemon said calmly, his gaze still on the pillars. "A powerful animal. A very powerful one."

He shifted his weight slightly, looking at the blurry projections that hid their identities.

"From my experience, when someone is this arrogant... they usually have the power to back it up."

"What are you saying, son of Baal?" a tower lord asked.

"I’m saying we should be careful. Perhaps we should not engage."

"Enough!" one of the fifth-class tower lords barked. "We’ve lost too much face. Our followers are dead. Our towers are under siege. And you’re telling us not to attack?"

"I refuse to believe this person is like Amon. Or even that bastard Damon Grey."

"This may be overkill, but I suggest we come together and punish this fool who refuses to follow tradition. We are not ganging up on him. We are honoring the way our ancestors have done things for generations."

A pause followed.

"All in agreement, say aye."

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Aye."

...

...

"Aye."

"Then it is decided. We shall destroy him. Then continue with our tournament."

Bakemon exhaled slowly through his nose and turned his head toward the window, where the massive tower rose in the distance like a challenge carved into the sky.

Surely... they all understood.

Anyone with a tower that large would have crushed them one by one.

They were simply looking for an excuse.

An excuse to unite.

An excuse to bring down something greater than themselves.

And he had given them exactly the reason they needed.

’Hypocrites’