My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger - Chapter 945 - 946: Birth
Chapter 945: Chapter 946: Birth
The fourth day on the sea was not as calm as the ones earlier.
They were welcomed at dawn by the violent movement of a strange swarm rising from the water, dozens of entities clawing their way toward the deck, each of them trying to come aboard.
Their bodies resembled amphibians. Thick, slimy flesh covered in warts. Humanoid in shape, long arms ending in webbed claws. Their mouths split too wide across their faces, revealing rows of blunt, grinding teeth.
They were resistant to magic.
The best course of action to kill them was physical force.
Steel.
Blunt trauma.
Decapitation.
Damon cleaned his sword as the last of them were tossed overboard. The corpses hit the water with heavy splashes, sinking into the deep blue below.
Blood slicked the ship.
It pooled between the planks, mixed with seawater, and ran in thin streams toward the scuppers.
Damon’s face was splattered red. His expression was cold.
“How do they keep getting through the barrier?”
He turned sharply and walked up to Seras. The sun hung high in the sky, glinting off his blade as he lowered it to his side.
“What the hell is going on? Was the sea this dangerous?”
Seras shook her head slowly, wiping her sword clean with a cloth before sheathing it.
“We already left the Bone Sea and cut our way out of any danger zones. While this is a dangerous uncharted part of the sea, it’s not a death zone. We are in the Narrow Sea between the Bone and Fog Sea, so the monsters shouldn’t be this aggressive.”
Her explanation was something he already knew.
Their voyage to the demon continent was not very long. At the speed the ship was moving, even accounting for detours around danger, they should arrive in about three weeks, perhaps a little more.
The Bone Sea stretched from the demon continent to the Bone Hallows in the evil forest. Across from it, several seas met, some relatively safe.
The Fog Sea was the closest to the Bone Sea from their position.
Between those two was the Narrow Sea.
It was called that because it was a small gap where the two seas refused to meet. The waters there were relatively normal, with only a few abominations crossing through from either side.
After making it here, they should have been safer.
The idea was to keep moving in the Narrow Sea for as long as possible until they reached the convergence point of the two greater seas. Then they would brave the death zone one last time before reaching the demon continent.
There were other routes.
But this was the most secretive one.
No sane person would take this route.
That was precisely why they were taking it.
The mission to steal the Ouroboros Coil was not an easy one.
Seras closed her eyes briefly, replaying the last four days in her mind.
“There’s something interfering with the barrier.”
Damon nodded slowly.
He had reached the same conclusion after four days of relentless Bloody Mary attacks.
“Is it the Bloody Mary?” he asked softly.
“No. I thought it was too, but that monster is not high ranked enough to do that. Neither does it have the mastery over magic required.”
She pointed subtly toward the bloody and floating carcasses drifting in the deep blue sea. The water was deep enough now to almost seem black.
“Those made me realize something. On this ship, something is letting them in. Whenever the Bloody Mary attacked, there was something that subtly affected the barrier. These creatures were the same.”
“Hm.”
Damon narrowed his eyes, glancing toward the faint shimmer of the protective runes.
“Yeah, I thought so too. So are we dealing with a monster or…”
“No. It’s an object. A cursed one, if I’m not mistaken,” Seras muttered, lowering her voice so only he could hear.
“Where would we find that… ahh, I see.”
His expression shifted.
They had come from the evil forest.
Past the Bone Hallows.
Too many treasures capable of making even a disciplined man red eyed with greed lay buried there.
If someone took one…
That was why the rule existed.
Take nothing from the forest.
Because the forest follows you.
“When do you think someone took something?” Damon asked quietly.
Seras glanced at him sideways.
“I thought you took it. I mean, only you would be that crazy.”
Damon bit his lip, visibly aggrieved.
“I’m greedy and a little crazy. Okay, crazy. But even I know not to be that greedy. In fact, I used to operate on the philosophy of eighty percent chance.”
“Really now. What changed?” she asked, deadpan.
Damon looked up at the sky and sighed.
“Life happened. I realized sometimes you just have to risk it all. It’s a leap of faith. Not in gods. In yourself.”
Seras studied his face for a moment, then exhaled slowly.
“Guess you really aren’t the one who brought something cursed onto the ship.”
“Well, that was a whole lot of nothing,” she muttered with a resigned expression.
Damon chuckled faintly, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension.
“Who do you think it is? I suspect it was taken when our guard was down. On the beach, before we boarded the ship.”
Seras’ gaze shifted to the crew moving about the deck. Sailors scrubbing blood. Others repairing minor damage. Some avoiding eye contact.
Her eyes sharpened.
“So an inspection is in order.”
She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword.
“And an interrogation.”
***************
Damon sat on a barrel, watching the knight with the swollen belly.
The man stood rigid despite his condition. One hand pressed against his stomach while the other held a bowl. He spat into it, wiped his mouth, then forced himself upright.
“Vice Commander, sir.”
He saluted, struggling to maintain the decorum of a trained knight.
The sight of his distended abdomen made Damon deeply uncomfortable.
He waved a hand.
“Take a seat.”
The knight lowered himself onto an opposing barrel. As he did, something worm like shifted beneath the skin of his stomach.
It slid from left to right.
The man groaned in pain.
His face paled as his stomach visibly swelled another inch. Blood began to drip from his nose. His breathing turned shallow.
Damon’s expression did not change.
“Now then. I have some questions for you. I expect you to answer honestly.”
It did not matter whether the man intended to lie.
Damon activated his skill.
Skill: Eyes of Veracity
Description:
Once wielded by the truthseers of the White Tribunal, this ocular skill reveals deception, illusions, and hidden motives with unerring precision.
Effect:
You see the truth from the lies, though truth can be vague.
Type:
Active
Cooldown:
0 seconds
His vision sharpened subtly. A faint distortion hovered around falsehoods, like heat haze above desert sand.
He began with standard verification.
“What is your name?”
The man answered.
“Where are you from?”
Another answer.
“What is your race?”
“Your division and knight order.”
Each answer rang true.
The questions might seem unnecessary, even uncomfortable, but Damon was confirming the man’s identity. Ensuring he was not an infiltrating entity wearing a borrowed face.
Satisfied, Damon leaned forward slightly.
“Did you carry any artifacts or objects before we boarded this ship?”
The knight shook his head.
“No, my lord, I did not.”
True.
“Are you under any kind of control? Have you experienced missing memories or blackouts?”
“Not that I know of.”
True again.
“Do you have vague premonitions or a feeling of not being yourself?”
“Yes. Yes, I do. I am, after all, carrying a monster parasite in my body.”
That too was true.
Damon watched the faint shimmer in his vision remain steady.
Then he asked one final question.
“Are you afraid?”
The knight met his eyes.
“No. I am not.”
There was no hesitation in his voice.
But Damon saw it.
A flicker.
A distortion.
Lie.
Damon said nothing.
The man rose and moved aside, clutching his stomach.
One by one, the crew and knights were interrogated with the same sequence of questions. The sun drifted slowly toward the horizon as Damon continued.
Faces blurred together.
Answers repeated.
Truth.
Truth.
Truth.
Until he reached a young knight.
He remembered this one.
Set.
The man sat down, posture stiff.
Damon was about to begin.
Then a scream tore through the deck.
One of the infected men collapsed to his knees.
“Agrghh… agrghh…”
He clutched his stomach as clear fluid began to drip down his legs, soaking into the wooden planks.
Like a pregnant woman whose water had broken.
“Aghhh!”
He fell onto his back.
Everyone rushed toward him.
Something bulged violently beneath his abdomen.
His skin began to discolor.
Rot spread outward from the center like ink bleeding through paper.
“Quick! Suppress it! Don’t let it tear through his skin!” someone shouted.
Knights forced him down.
A healer lunged forward, pressing both hands against the man’s stomach. A circular shield of condensed energy formed, pushing downward in an attempt to contain the swelling mass.
The man’s mouth opened.
Blood sprayed out.
His body convulsed as something inside him fed.
You could hear it.
Wet tearing.
Bones cracking.
Organs being crushed and consumed while he still lived.
The healer screamed in effort, veins standing out in his neck.
Then the lower abdomen ruptured.
A violent explosion of blood and tissue burst outward.
The healer was drenched instantly.
The infected knight went still.
His eyes remained open.
Frozen in horror.
In agony.
The healers stumbled back.
From the shredded cavity, something began to crawl out.
Slowly and deliberately.
A long, slick limb emerged first, pale and glistening, bending wrong at the joints.
Then another.
It dragged itself free inch by inch, coated in blood and fragments of what had once been a man.
