My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger - Chapter 937 - 938: Why Do You Defy

Chapter 937: Chapter 938: Why Do You Defy

Once again he had made it out with his life intact, which was good for him. The ground still trembled under Rexagon’s rage, distant shockwaves rolling through the earth like a dying heartbeat, but what did that have to do with Damon? He had already escaped.

He glanced up to find Seras pressing her fingers against her forehead, eyes closed as if fending off a headache.

“You really are a trouble magnet.”

Damon felt aggrieved. He had told her this would happen. She just had not believed him. He opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it.

Seras exhaled through her nose, then turned sharply to the others hiding among the bones. She swept her gaze over each of them, ensuring they were steady, then flicked her wrist in a silent command.

“Move. Keep your wits about you. We have no clue what is inside this place.”

Everyone nodded. Hands tightened around weapons. Shoulders straightened. Their earlier terror had sharpened into caution.

Damon took a slow breath and followed behind her, boots crunching softly against splintered fragments of bone. His gaze drifted along the pale walls, and then caught on something carved into the curve of a massive rib.

Why do you defy?

The words were written in runic script, Soul Tongue. The language understood by all.

Which meant it had not been written by a native of this world.

Damon slowed, then stopped entirely. He reached out and brushed his fingers across the grooves. The bone was cold.

There was a faint yet powerful aura in the carving, like the afterimage of lightning. As if something transcendent had etched the question there. A trace of formless will lingered, pressing against his senses.

He lowered his head.

’Why do I defy.’

He repeated the question inwardly as he resumed walking, boots stepping over a skull half-buried in the cavern floor.

’Why do I defy.’

It was an interesting question. He had not thought about it recently. He defied because he had no choice.

But was that truly it?

He folded his arms across his chest as they descended deeper into the bone ridge. Pale light from the entrance barely reached this far. Shadows thickened. The air grew heavier.

Lazarak defied for peace.

Mugu defied for love.

Ashcroft defied for domination.

Defiance.

What did it mean to defy?

Lazarak had once told him to defy himself.

Was that it? To go against not gods, but yourself?

Damon’s jaw tightened slightly.

Lazarak had also told him that everyone carried a god within.

The god inside is bigger than the giant we face.

Then why did he defy?

He stepped down from a tilted skull, boots scraping bone.

“Some defy for love. Some defy for hate. Some for vengeance. Some defy for their dreams. I defy for defiance’s sake. I stand where I know I will fall. There is no other reason. Defiance is the means and the end. I shall spit in the face of god as I am damned. Even in defeat I will rot in hell with those who dared to overcome impossible odds.”

His fingers curled slightly as he walked.

That was his answer.

His defiance did not need a reason beyond the fact that he chose it.

The moment that thought settled, the bone ridge trembled.

A low vibration ran through the cavern walls. Dust trickled down from above. The carved words began to glow faintly, pale light seeping from within the grooves. New letters etched themselves into the bone as if written by an invisible blade.

Damon lifted his head slowly.

A voice echoed out, distant yet intimate, as if spoken directly into their skulls.

“Which god do you serve?”

Seras stopped instantly. Her tachi slid into her hand in a single smooth motion, the blade angled low as her eyes swept the darkness. Her stance widened, weight shifting to the balls of her feet.

She saw no one.

She was slightly taken aback by the question, but only slightly.

“Who are you? Show yourself.”

Silence lingered for a breath too long.

Then the voice returned.

“Forgive my rudeness. Unfortunately, I cannot show myself. I am imprisoned in a place here and not here.”

Seras did not lower her blade. Her grip tightened instead.

There were many dangers in this world. Some could not be killed, only sealed. Her gaze flicked to the glowing script, then to the hollow darkness between the ribs. She would not be surprised if this entity sought some gullible fool to free it.

“Who are you?” she repeated, voice colder now.

The voice paused.

“First answer my question. Which god do you serve?”

Damon narrowed his eyes. He let his shadow perception spread outward, brushing against the glowing words. Beneath their light he felt pressure, subtle but immense. Something vast testing the edges of their presence.

Seras did not know why it wanted to know. The voice did not sound malicious.

That made her more cautious.

That was how they enticed people.

“We are worshippers of the goddess of doom,” she replied evenly.

“Ohh, I see. So you are of Doom’s faith. I am relieved. Though we do not share the same faith, we are still worshippers of god.”

Seras frowned slightly but did not respond.

The voice continued, almost warmly.

“I am Morticai the Pure. I am the servant of a true god from beyond your realm.”

Damon’s eyes sharpened.

From beyond your realm.

An outsider.

He stepped slightly forward, chin lifting.

“Which god do you serve?”

There was a brief silence.

Then Morticai spoke in a calm, reverent tone.

“Though you may not know my god’s glorious name, I shall speak it so you may be of the light. I am the lowly servant of the true god Obamion god of souls, emotions, and will.”

“Obamion,” Seras repeated.

The moment the name left her lips, her tongue felt heavy.

Her breath caught.

Her soul trembled as if struck by an unseen hammer. A ripple passed through her body. Her fingers twitched around the hilt of her tachi.

Then she felt it.

Something far away.

Something vast.

It had heard.

Her head turned slowly, as if pulled by invisible threads. For a single, suffocating moment she felt exposed, laid bare beneath an immeasurable gaze. No armor. No secrets. No defenses.

She could not move.

Her knees buckled.

The presence vanished as suddenly as it had come.

Seras dropped to her knees, one hand slamming against the bone floor to steady herself. Sweat dripped from her brow. Her breathing turned uneven.

Damon stepped toward her instinctively, eyes narrowing.

“My god has sensed you call his name. Fear not, he means you no harm. I am envious of your fortune. To be in the sights of the god of souls even for a moment is a great honor,” Morticai spoke with reverence.

Damon sensed nothing.

He saw no gaze. Felt no presence.

All he saw was Seras kneeling, trembling, struck down by a name alone.