My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

There was a deep sense of unease the moment he entered the Holy City.

Damon could not tell where it came from, but he felt it immediately sharp and invasive, like the edge of a blade resting lightly against his skin.

Something was here.

Something ancient.

Something powerful.

And more importantly...

It was awake.

Before he could dwell on the feeling any longer, someone stepped in front of him wearing a faint smile.

"What has my brother so worked up?" a familiar woman’s voice called out playfully.

Damon lowered his gaze and sighed at the sight of the beautiful young woman standing before him.

Long grey hair flowed down her back, framing a face far more mature than the little girl he once remembered protecting.

She was no longer a child.

"Luna... why do you assume I’m worked up? I’m not the one here on a pilgrimage."

"Right," she said with a smile. "You only ever come here when you’re summoned against your will. Politics really does suck."

Damon scoffed softly.

Luna had left home weeks ago for the annual pilgrimage to the Holy City. It was one of those religious obligations nobles occasionally entertained, so Damon had not questioned it.

Besides, she wasn’t alone.

Iris had accompanied her.

And naturally...

Jarvis was with them.

As long as that old monster was around, no one would dare lay a hand on either of them.

Though after stepping foot in this city...

Damon was beginning to rethink that assumption.

"Where’s Iris?" he asked casually.

"She’s with Ranar. Turns out she knows exactly how to put the fear of the Goddess into that little menace."

Luna casually gestured behind herself with a thumb.

"And luckily for us..."

She grinned.

"It works."

"Ah... so you two are the ones bullying my daughter, huh..."

Damon crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

"I’ve started blood feuds for less."

Luna rolled her eyes so hard it was almost theatrical.

"Don’t tell us how to raise my niece, you absentee father."

She folded her arms and stared at him flatly.

"Maybe you haven’t realized it, but both you and grandfather spoil her far too much. At this rate she’ll grow up completely rotten if someone doesn’t teach her discipline."

"Nonsense. Tough love my ass. I don’t remember our mother ever being—"

He paused.

Suddenly memories flashed through his mind.

His mother.

Her sandal.

The absolute brutality of her punishments.

Damon cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Well... I mean..."

He straightened himself.

"Our father was a good man."

Luna simply stared at him.

It was obvious she knew exactly what memory had interrupted his sentence.

Their mother had been loving.

Very loving.

She had simply believed discipline and violence could coexist.

"If mother were still alive," Luna said with amusement, "I’m willing to bet you’d actually be a decent human being, dear brother."

"Shut up. I am a decent human being."

Damon folded his arms defensively.

"And our mother was a gentle flower. It’s not like I’m idolizing her through rose-colored memories or anything."

He absolutely was.

Luna shook her head helplessly.

"That girl is so much like you..."

Her expression softened slightly.

"Just... worse."

Then she sighed.

"I feel bad for her sometimes. She doesn’t have a mother... and the one parent she does have is you."

Damon pointed accusingly at her.

"Whose side are you on? I’m a wonderful parent."

She nodded.

"Oh, I agree."

A small smile appeared.

"You’re a good father."

Then her expression turned merciless.

"But being a present one?"

She tilted her head.

"Not so much."

Damon immediately decided he hated this conversation.

Changing topics was now the only viable path.

"Well..."

He placed a hand on his chest proudly.

"At least I did a good job raising you."

Luna stared at him for several seconds.

She had to admit...

That was technically true.

But she refused to let him win.

"We were homeless."

She smiled sweetly.

"We raised each other."

Damon frowned.

That was... annoyingly accurate.

Before he could defend himself further, another voice suddenly interrupted them.

"What are you two talking about?"

Both siblings turned.

Iris had just entered the room.

Perched comfortably on her back was Ranar, the little girl holding onto her shoulders like she had claimed a new mount for herself.

Damon stared at the sight.

And for a brief moment...

The ominous pressure he had felt upon entering the Holy City faded.

Replaced by something warmer.

Something dangerous in its own way.

Family.

He glanced at Ranar. She was still adorable, still every bit the innocent child she appeared to be, though now the menace hiding beneath that cuteness had been thoroughly restrained.

"What have you two done to my daughter?"

Standing behind Iris were two familiars. One was a squirrel with scarlet fur and perpetually shifty eyes, while the other was a raven cloaked in feathers darker than midnight itself. Both radiated the unmistakable pressure of beings that had reached the Fourth Class Advancement.

Damon gave them a long look before shaking his head.

"Good to see you both. Must be nice after abandoning the guy who took you in."

The two creatures merely glanced at him before turning away in perfect unison.

Neither of them were insane enough to regret their decision.

Life was simply better with Ranar.

There were no constant life-threatening battles, no eldritch monstrosities appearing out of nowhere, no deranged enemies plotting murder every other day. She lived in a palace surrounded by servants, warmth, and comfort.

Meanwhile, life with Damon meant waking up each morning wondering what fresh horror had decided it wanted him dead.

Iris stared at him quietly.

The silence stretched long enough that Damon began feeling mildly uncomfortable under her gaze.

He snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"Hello. Aetherus to Lady Vale."

He deliberately emphasized her noble title with a teasing grin.

In the end, Iris had gotten her revenge.

Every noble who had wronged her family had died.

Not one had been spared.

With the influence of the Grand Duke, her family name had been restored and she once more stood where she rightfully belonged.

Damon himself had barely needed to interfere.

Iris had handled things personally.

She was, after all, very much the student he had raised.

Eventually, everyone settled down.

Luna had somehow bullied the servants into letting her cook despite their repeated protests, insisting she wanted to prepare a proper homemade meal herself.

The atmosphere was peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Damon sat quietly, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

There were far too many things weighing on his mind.

The Holy City.

Aetherus.

The strange pressure he had felt the moment he stepped within these walls.

Something here was awake.

Something ancient.

Then he heard it.

Footsteps.

Slow.

Measured.

He had noticed her presence nearly half an hour ago.

She had been pacing outside, hesitating.

Gathering courage.

He already knew who it was.

The footsteps finally stopped.

Then the door opened.

She stepped inside slowly, taking a deep breath as though steadying herself.

Damon did not turn around.

Instead, his gaze remained fixed ahead while a strange heaviness settled inside his chest.

"Iris," he called softly.

She stood there silently for several moments.

Then finally spoke.

"I... I want to ask you something."

Her pink hair swayed lightly as her fingers tightened at her sides.

There was tension in her voice.

Fear.

Hope.

Something fragile enough that Damon suddenly felt his heart sink.

"Please..."

She swallowed.

"...be honest with me."

And somehow, before she even asked the question...

Damon already knew exactly what was coming.