My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger - Chapter 1000 - 1002: Not Loving At All

Chapter 1000: Chapter 1002: Not Loving At All

The truth struck Damon harder than he expected.

The Goddess of Doom had been meant to become a demon. Yet in her hatred for the Unknown God, she had stolen Lolth’s divine spark and forced her own ascension.

She became a goddess.

But she could not change what she was.

Doom remained doom.

Damon’s fingers flexed faintly at his side.

He, too, carried a divine spark. And a seed of depravity. Both coiled inside him like opposing forces sharing the same body.

He doubted either could compare to what those two beings once possessed.

Tamia’s voice flowed calmly through the temple air.

“Resentment pushes anyone toward the demonic path. One loved a god who wanted nothing to do with her. The other hated him so much she tried to escape her fate entirely. In the end, neither got what they wanted.”

She shook her head slowly, almost pityingly.

“Salvation became a demon. Doom became the goddess of the abyss. The irony is cruel.”

Damon turned his head toward her.

“Are you not worried about divine retribution for speaking like this… Paimon?”

Tamia smiled faintly.

“The privilege of a priestess is saying whatever you wish and calling others blasphemers if they repeat it.”

She lifted a hand and brushed her long hair behind her shoulder with unhurried grace.

“This is hallowed ground. Here, we are protected.”

Then her eyes rose to meet his.

“How did you know it was me?”

Damon didn’t answer immediately.

He simply looked at her.

When he first arrived, she had tested him with talk of love. Most demons would have dismissed it outright.

Then she had asked if he desired the priestesses. A trap. A test of lust and restraint. Any ordinary demon with power would have shown interest.

The priestesses themselves treated her normally, but their eyes betrayed them. Subtle glances. Careful awareness. Respect without displaying it.

And earlier, in his tower, she had spoken boldly about the Unknown God favoring and reviling him. No ordinary priestess would dare speak like that.

All the small pieces had aligned.

Paimon stepped closer.

Her presence didn’t grow heavier, but it felt deeper. Like standing near a quiet abyss.

She leaned slightly toward him, her voice lowering into a soft, tempting whisper.

“Do you not find me beautiful?”

Damon’s expression did not change.

“Then why don’t you wear your real face?”

His tone was calm, almost indifferent, but his guard sharpened invisibly.

Beside him, Wendy frowned. Her fingers slid lightly over the hilt of her bone sword on instinct, though she knew it would mean nothing here.

Paimon tilted her head.

“This is my real face. The one everyone sees…”

Her form shimmered and shifted into a woman with long blue hair and colder features.

“That is the face of the First Demon Lord, Paimon. Every time a High Priestess rises, we take her appearance to honor her.”

Damon nodded once.

“I see. So your name is actually Tamia.”

She shook her head gently.

“Was. No… I am Paimon. But I do not mind if you alone call me Tamia.”

Her eyes stayed on him.

“Do you dislike the name?”

Damon shrugged slightly.

“No. It’s fine. Sounds a bit like tamberry.”

Paimon blinked.

Wendy groaned softly and covered part of her face.

Damon’s expression remained completely serious.

For a long second, Paimon simply stared at him.

Then she burst into laughter.

Clear, genuine laughter that echoed softly through the temple hall.

“Are you serious right now?” she asked between breaths. “Do you realize I am a Demon Lord?”

“And you must realize,” Damon replied evenly, “I don’t care.”

Paimon laughed even harder.

He was amusing, if nothing else. Who would look her in the eye and speak so casually, knowing she was a demon in the seventh class advancement, guardian of the Snake Temple, and high priestess who honored the Unknown God?

“Is this the reason you asked me all those questions about love?” Damon asked as they walked deeper into the temple.

The vast architecture opened around them, its walls covered with murals of the abyss, of gods and demons locked in ancient moments. As they moved through the hall, Damon suddenly felt a burning sensation in his hand.

He glanced down.

The mark he had gotten from the lich Amadeus was pulsing faintly. As they passed the murals, the mark seemed to absorb something from the air itself, gathering it silently. The world in front of Damon began to distort slightly every time he blinked, like reality was slipping out of alignment.

His feet stopped moving.

Paimon turned slowly with a small smile, still wearing Tamia’s gentle face.

“Yes. Love is at the center of everything. It is love that has brought us all here. Even this hall we are in is a testament to love.”

Damon frowned as the mark throbbed again, growing warmer in his palm. He could not tell what it was drawing in, only that it was reacting strongly to this place.

Paimon raised her hand and gestured toward the walls.

“This hall was built by the first prophet of this temple. Though the world would know him differently. Here in the demon continent he is called the First Demon. Beyond it, he is called the Wicked Prophet, Mugu.”

Damon’s eyes widened as Paimon stopped in front of one of the murals.

There was an image of a woman.

She looked so familiar that it unsettled him. He didn’t understand why until he noticed her eyes.

Of course.

She looked like Abellona.

Damon’s gaze shifted to the words carved into the wall beside her.

“This is where love dies.”

“I crave the dreamless silence of the Unknown God. May all be shrouded in realms of dreamless solitude.”

“How depressing,” Paimon whispered faintly, her eyes lingering on the carving.

“Love really is a horrible thing. It must be so painful. I truly want to experience it for myself. Everyone that seems to matter suffers from it. The Demon of Salvation. The Goddess of Doom. The Unknown God. Mugu.”

Damon looked at the priestess in front of him, unsure what to say. He had always thought Paimon was a little too free-spirited. For all her intelligence and knowledge, there were things she seemed strangely ignorant about.

What sane person would want to fall in love?

“Unrequited love is more painful than not loving at all,” Damon muttered.

Paimon turned her head slightly toward him.

“I beg to differ.”

She held his gaze calmly.

“Unrequited love is better than not loving at all.”