My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Damon leaned against the crumbling wall of an old house. The floor beneath him was coated in thick dust, and large portions of the structure had long since collapsed, leaving the place vulnerable to the chill night air.

The interior was pitch black. No one in the party dared to create a single light source, not even a spark, despite the biting cold that settled over the city once the sun dipped below the horizon.

They had learned their lesson during their first night in Lysithara—light only attracted something worse.

Damon could already hear them—familiar creatures, the grotesque ones the locals had once called lamp snatchers.

Well the locals were the lamp snatchers.

They moved across the ruined streets, their disfigured forms twitching and crawling as they hunted for even the faintest glimmer to steal.

Somewhere deeper in the city, he caught the distant growl and clash of nocturnal monsters locked in a deadly skirmish. Another night hunt.

Damon was on first watch—alone. The others were asleep, huddled together in a tight circle, with Xander lying a little further off, respectfully distant from the girls.

They might've looked asleep, but Damon knew they'd be up in a flash at the slightest wrong noise.

He could've asked the party to travel during the night, but he'd avoided that—for now. Not until they understood the true nature of this city.

Yes, they had the Nightlight spell, which granted them night vision. But that wasn't enough. Three of them had the unfortunate habit of being flashy when they fought.

If they wanted to avoid causing another city-wide disaster, they needed to avoid drawing attention with light.

Not that Damon needed light. He was just fine in the dark.

Leona had offered to keep him company during his watch, but he'd turned her down. She was his friend, sure… but his first friend had always been his shadow—even if it had a tendency to drive him mad when it got hungry.

He smiled faintly, eyes drifting toward the ground where the living darkness twisted behind him.

"Hey there, buddy… you and I haven't had time to talk much lately."

His shadow gave a lazy shrug, as if to say it wasn't a big deal.

Most people didn't talk to their shadows. Maybe it was a good thing Damon hadn't had time for his lately—it meant he wasn't alone anymore. He had friends now. A team.

Even so, his shadow was still his shadow. It would never leave.

At least… he hoped not.

Damon smiled in the pitch darkness where he sat, brushing a bit of dust off his armor.

"I got a new skill… isn't that something?"

His shadow placed a hand over its chest and puffed it out, brimming with smug pride.

Damon chuckled. "It's called Shadow Storage. Don't tell me you put in a good word for me with upper management."

The shadow looked even more smug.

He remembered the first time he'd seen Lilith store items in a hidden space linked to her stigmata. It had looked so useful—so seamless. He'd half-jokingly asked his shadow to do something similar for him.

He hadn't actually expected results.

Yet here it was.

Damon opened his system panel, noting with some irritation that his mana pool was dwindling and his shadow energy was low.

"I need to devour more enemies... or corpses."

Easier said than done. Most of the bodies in Lysithara were too old, and any fresh ones were usually taken by scavengers long before he got to them.

Still, he focused on the new skill and tapped the name. The panel expanded.

[Skill: Shadow Storage]

[Description:]

This vile thief was reviled by all—hated by the true gods, despised by the true demons, and loathed even by the amoral Old Ones. The capricious True Dragons could not abide his presence. There was nothing he would not steal—divine or mundane—bloodlines, knowledge, magic, skill, abilities, even the essence of souls. All that caught his eye became his, hidden away in a palace of crystal. There he birthed his vile progeny—the worst of them became the Unknown God.

[Effect:]

Store any object within a shadow spatial pocket.

The greater your shadow, the larger the storage space becomes.

[Cooldown:]

0 sec

Damon stared at the screen, a wave of confusion washing over him.

Just when he thought he was beginning to piece things together, something else unraveled it all.

The line about the vile thief was fascinating… but it wasn't what unsettled him.

No—it was two very specific things.

It wasn't the mention of true demons. Nor was it the True Dragons. It was the "crystal palace." Valerie had said something once—about how the Ascendant Armors had been forged using a method from that place.

But that wasn't what bothered him most.

It was the claim that the Unknown God was one of the progeny of this vile thief.

That didn't make sense. Not at all.

He remembered the poem—the one about the Weeping Star. He was absolutely certain the Weeping Star and the Unknown God were one and the same.

The verses echoed in his mind:

"…The Weeping Star came first, and the god who gives names devoured its light. All names that followed were lies."

"…The Weeping Star came first, and the god with no name devoured its light. All names that followed were lies."

"…To speak his name is to invite him in."

"…So the goddess took it, carved it from the hearts of men and cast it into the void."

"…In oblivion, she bound them. In silence, she damned herself."

"…He called her Bride, but the veil she wore was never white—it was woven of false fates."

The god who gave names… hated his own name.

Oh, the tragic tale of the Abyss and his Bride...

If the Weeping Star came first—if he named everything—then how could he be the progeny of a thief?

"Why doesn't this make any sense…"

His joy at getting a new skill was drowned beneath the weight of the confusion.

Damon shook his head.

Maybe he hadn't interpreted the poem right. His knowledge was still incomplete.

"Mortals shouldn't try to understand the world of gods—or even try to apply our rules to them…"

There was likely an explanation. Something simple… or perhaps something beyond comprehension.

Either way, it didn't matter right now. He focused on what the skill could do.

This skill was going to be a looter's paradise.

This skill was about to make him very rich.

His shadow looked up at him, a faint smirk etched into its form.

Right… some of his skills came with consequences. But he was trying to stay optimistic this time.

The shadow shrugged, choosing not to tell him.

Let him find out on his own.

Besides… this one wasn't that bad.