My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Damon reacted instinctively.

He hadn't spread his shadow perception too far—no doubt avoiding the risk of something sensing him first—but his danger sense was still active, if dulled by the constant danger around them.

At the sound of walls being shattered, Xander's arm had already moved. His shield slammed up, deflecting the wreckage, then sent it hurtling back with a surge of gravity at the creature that had lunged at them.

They had grown used to this sort of chaos in the month Damon had been gone. With his absence, the others had learned to adapt—to rely less on his danger sense, and more on their own instincts.

Damon followed Xander's defensive maneuver, ducking behind him and firing a magic bullet toward the unknown assailant.

He heard a grunt as the bullet struck its target.

Evangeline was already moving, her sword gleaming as it arced forward.

"Radiant Blade—!"

A golden arc of light followed Damon's bullet. However, the creature didn't even attempt to dodge.

With a guttural groan, it took the blow head-on.

It didn't die. But it bled.

Damon narrowed his eyes.

"Magic resistance…"

The creature had shrugged off both magical attacks—clearly not immune, but tough enough to make spells ineffective. Then he heard it—sounds, subtle but many, crawling and echoing from the buildings and alleys around them.

More were coming.

"We're dealing with more juju creatures," Leona muttered grimly.

Damon glanced sideways at her. It was clear now—his entire party already knew what these were.

"I sure missed a lot being dead all this time," he muttered wryly.

Leona nodded, her blade swinging in a clean arc and cleaving the creature's head clean off.

The monster looked like some warped beast. Jagged skin covered its form, with a circular maw ringed with rows of tiny teeth. Several thin, human-like arms jutted from its torso, sickly and twitching. But its primary limbs were monstrous—thick, powerful, bestial arms that radiated brute force.

"The juju creatures resist magic," Leona explained. "And they're freakishly strong. This one's a juju grunt—not even the worst of the species."

Damon gave a brief nod, then raised his sword. Shadow energy laced across the blade.

"Dark Blade."

The slash mirrored Evangeline's earlier attack, but with shadow instead of light.

He glanced toward Sylvia. "Something tells me that's not all."

Sylvia took over from Leona, drawing closer.

"They aren't many this time," she said, her bow already drawn. "So we can kill them."

Damon held his sword in a firm grip, exhaling a grim sigh.

He hadn't taken down a single one yet, and the others were treating these things casually… but he could feel it. These creatures were first-rank. Normally, he could kill them without even thinking.

'Or are they one of the few exceptions?'

Sylvia's arrows flashed through the air, streaking toward the rooftops. She wasn't aiming to kill—she knew better. Magic wouldn't do much. But her shots were precise enough to slow them down.

"There are three kinds," she continued. "Each worse than the last. These here? Juju grunts. Simple beasts."

She leapt onto a road sign with practiced ease, landing with a graceful crouch.

"The next tier's juju knights. Kinda like mist knights, but not nearly as dreadful. Same magic resistance. And their armor's a nightmare to crack."

"If they're a rank above…" she added, her eyes flicking toward the distance, "we usually run."

Damon nodded, then activated his [5x] skill, surging his physical strength to its peak.

When the first one lunged, he caught its head mid-air—and crushed it in his palm until the skull caved in.

'Bet you didn't know I can boost my base strength by five.'

A low chime echoed in his mind.

[You have slain Juju Grunt.]

He didn't stop. He couldn't risk being seen devouring the corpse, not now.

Sylvia was close, flipping through the air as her bow switched into blades mid-spin. She sliced one of the creature's arms clean off, then impaled it through the chest.

"The last kind is called an apostate," she added. "They're usually rank three—and very dangerous."

From Damon's shoulders, Valerie finally spoke, smiling faintly.

"Back in the day, we called them mage hunters," she said. "The whole group was designed to hunt rogue magic users. At least, that was the official story."

She chuckled softly.

"But the truth? They were created to keep the city's secrets buried."

Damon raised his hand, summoning Ashborn.

A group of juju grunts leapt toward him.

The black flames erupted like shadows, consuming them all. The pain that followed was sharp—his body trembled as the fire ate into him, burning like real fire rather than magic.

He gritted his teeth.

"Thanks a lot for creating a group this deadly… You deserve a real pat on the back."

Valerie smiled wider. "Thank you. I did my best."

Damon ignored her.

[You have slain Juju Grunt.]

[You have gained 5 attribute points.]

[You have slain Juju Grunts.]

[You have gained 5 attribute points.]

[You have acquired an item.]

He smiled. This was what he was hoping for.

The system always rewarded him when he devoured the corpses—especially the ones he had slain himself.

Most of the time it gave attribute points. Sometimes, it granted skills. Occasionally, even mastery. But he always gained something.

Ashborn consumed both flesh and soul. In a way, he was feeding on them—though not always the same way.

When he burned shades, he didn't gain shadow energy. Only attribute points. Unlike traditional devouring, burning didn't add to his overall pool—it merely restored what he had spent.

No sacrifice skill needed.

Damon stepped back slightly, noticing something else. The juju grunts were focusing on him. Not Sylvia. Not Xander. Just him.

It felt like they were testing him.

Each one attacked from a different angle—above, below, the sides—never repeating the same tactic.

So Damon kept killing.

He shifted through every weapon and skill he had—short-range, long-range, swordsmanship, daggers, magic bullets, and more.

The fight lasted roughly fifteen minutes. By the end of it, he had the workout he didn't know he needed.

Once the last grunt dropped, they moved away from the area, continuing their journey out of Lysithara.

Damon's armor was slick with blood. The vile stench of gore clung to him like rot. Worst of all, the close combat had left blood soaking into his hair—which had been growing longer the past few months.

Now, it stuck to his scalp in thick, bloody strands.

'Ahhh… this is going to be a pain to wash.'

Still, his mood was high.

He had obtained three new items from the battle.

His mastery had grown.

And he had earned more attribute points from devouring the corpses.