My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger - Chapter 938 - 939: Venom From A Cage

Chapter 938: Chapter 939: Venom From A Cage

Damon gulped, throat tightening as he swallowed his fear. He had just been about to say the name of Obamion aloud.

His fingers twitched at his side.

He knew the names of a few true beings. Of them all, the most terrifying was the Unknown God. Other than him, Damon also knew the name of Muses, the god of inspiration. He had seen that name when he died. The System had spoken it then, cold and indifferent.

He had never dared to say it aloud.

Now more than ever, he was glad he had not.

Then there was Minerva, Goddess of Doom. It felt wrong to take a god’s name lightly, but this was her world. He had spoken her name more than once.

These gods did not seem to hide their names. Only the Unknown God’s name had been lost, erased by Doom herself. Or perhaps lost because even he hated it.

There was a poem about that.

Damon forced his thoughts back to the present and stepped forward, boots grinding bone dust.

“What are your intentions with us?”

His blunt tone made the others tense. Fear lingered in the air like a foul odor. How could it not? Seras had been forced to her knees by repeating a name Damon had nearly spoken without thinking.

“I mean you no harm,” Morticai replied smoothly. “I simply sensed the mark I placed upon a defeated enemy react. It was but a moment of curiosity.”

Damon’s eyes narrowed.

Mark.

He glanced at the glowing script carved into the colossal bones around them.

“What mark?”

Seras rose slowly to her feet beside him, though her face was still pale. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand and steadied her breathing.

“There is a group of entities who refuse to obey,” Morticai continued. “When I encountered them in the past, I would ask why they chose to defy the gods.”

A faint pause.

“They would always resist. Never giving me a proper answer.”

Damon’s gaze drifted along the cavern walls, up the curving spine that arched overhead like a cathedral of death.

“Did you kill this entity?”

Silence.

Then the light along the bones brightened, the temperature seeming to drop.

“Yes. Yes, I did. This was one of those lowly creatures who failed to be born without a monster core. They removed their mana core and lost their nature as a monster, the fate they were born with. Then they masqueraded as one of the blessed races who did not possess a monster core to begin with. They dared to change the nature of their souls and go against god.”

The disdain in his voice was palpable.

Damon subconsciously glanced at Wendy.

Her fingers curled slightly into her sleeves. Her face paled.

She had once been a monster. The Unknown God had removed her core. That act had made her something else. Not fully human. Not fully beast. Something between.

A silence stretched thin.

Morticai cleared his throat lightly.

“Forgive me. I simply dislike such entities more than common monsters who accept their place in the omniverse. One’s soul and nature must not be changed. Especially not if they are lowly monsters.”

Damon’s jaw tightened.

“Is that your opinion,” he asked evenly, “or your god’s?”

“My god cares not for such trivialities,” Morticai replied instantly. “It is we Puritans who do what must be done.”

A faint sigh echoed through the cavern.

“I am unfortunately sealed within a prison by a certain vile demon, so I cannot act personally.”

Damon’s eyes sharpened.

A vile demon.

Was he speaking of Mugu?

He needed confirmation.

He stepped forward slightly, lowering his voice and lacing it with contempt.

“Are you referring to that evil wretch? The one who calls himself the Wicked Prophet? The scum who turned against the goddess. The man known as Mugu.”

He made sure the hatred in his tone was convincing.

“I see you are familiar with his name,” Morticai said coldly. “Yes. He is the one. The traitor. To think some of us once found him agreeable. In the end, what can you expect from a lower realm wretch.”

Damon kept his expression neutral, though his thoughts sharpened.

That confirmed it.

An outsider.

The same disdain. The same superiority Ittorath had shown. No matter how calm or courteous they appeared, they were invaders with their own purposes.

Seras inhaled slowly and straightened fully, though a faint tremor still lingered in her fingers.

“In that case,” she said evenly, “you have no business with us. We shall be on our way.”

The light pulsed once.

“Indeed. I wish you a safe journey. Though the path ahead seems dire for your cohort. I imagine you do not wish to face an undead in the seventh class of advancement.”

Several members of the expedition stiffened. One man swallowed audibly.

Even so, Seras did not waver.

An undead, even one of the seventh class, was preferable to Rexagon, who still raged outside.

“We are on a quest that will change our world forever,” she said, lifting her chin. “If we must sacrifice our lives for the greater good of our people, then so be it.”

The light gathered together, condensing.

“How noble. Your goddess must be pleased to have such devoted followers.”

The glow stretched outward, distorting the air before them.

“You seem to be headed toward the sea. Allow me to assist.”

The world warped. Bone and darkness peeled away like a curtain, revealing the distant shimmer of the ocean.

“You may pass. This is all I can manage with what remains of me here.”

Seras hesitated. Her eyes flicked to Damon.

He extended his senses cautiously.

He felt no immediate malice.

He gave a slight nod.

Even so, they tested it. One of the mages marked a stone with magic and tossed it through. Nothing happened. No explosion. No distortion.

One by one, they stepped through.

Until only Damon and Wendy remained.

Wendy moved toward the portal.

The light flickered.

It trembled.

“Wait. What… you are a—”

Damon did not wait for the sentence to finish.

He shoved Wendy forward with one hand and leapt after her, dragging her fully through as the scent of salt and rot filled his lungs.

Behind them, Morticai’s voice twisted, no longer smooth.

“Filthy beast masquerading as a woman. I curse you. You dare. So it was you. You were the one I sensed.”

The portal snapped shut like a slammed door.

Damon pulled Wendy back instinctively, placing himself slightly in front of her as the final echoes reached them.

“I curse you all. I curse you.”

The sea wind howled. The bone ridge was gone.

Seras stared at the empty air where the portal had been, confusion etched across her face.

A curse.

She frowned faintly.

“Hm.”

Damon let out a slow breath.

Too bad for Morticai.

Sealed and powerless, all he could do was spit venom from a cage.