My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 1001 - 1003: Hidden Clues

"Then why did Mugu suffer that fate? The mural showing that fae woman reveals his deep obsession clearly." Damon countered, keeping his tone hushed while his gaze remained fixed on the carving. Without thinking, his fingers tightened at his side, battling the impulse to glance once more at the mark on his palm.

"Don’t ask me. I’ve never experienced love, so I can’t say," Paimon answered with a light shrug.

"Did none of the previous Paimons know love?" he inquired, buying time as he sensed the mark pulling in more.

"If any did, it’s not in our records. We inherit knowledge, not emotions."

Damon opened his mouth to respond when a soft chime echoed in his mind.

[Wish Mark has absorbed memories of Mugu]

[Dream magic will activate upon your sleep]

He avoided looking at his hand. Paimon observed him too intently.

Instead, he moved ahead with ease.

"Let’s continue. Share more about this temple."

Paimon’s face lit up a bit. She spun around and resumed walking, her footfalls soft on the aged stone. Clearly, she relished discussing subjects she understood well. To her, knowledge deserved to be spread.

"This stands as the world’s most ancient temple. Unlike the Goddess Temple, established officially long after ours, we’ve existed here for ages. Back then, the Goddess received no formal worship. Lesser gods filled that role. By the First Epoch’s close, they vanished entirely, ushering in humanity’s age. That time fell to ruin from invading outer powers, birthing our demon kind."

She narrated their history calmly as they progressed, familiar with these old tales.

Damon trailed behind at a measured pace, his attention wandering, biding for the perfect instant to trigger the communicator and call Seras. Yet first, he required a clear map of the temple. They had to venture further in.

They stepped into the following chamber.

Names adorned the walls here, etched deeply.

Damon’s pace slackened.

His gaze swept over them.

Beelzebub. Malacoda. Satan. Lucifer. Lilith. Paimon. Bael. Asmodeus. Sitri. Dantalion.....

Numerous others appeared. Some names rang unfamiliar to him.

"These are reserved for Demon Lords," Paimon explained, crossing her arms. "This registry was forged by Lord Ashcroft."

She surveyed the room with deep respect.

"Among the temple’s holiest areas, this chamber holds great esteem. Many names draw from the Ars Goetia."

"Ars Goetia? What is that?" Damon questioned, facing her.

Paimon shook her head.

"I lack knowledge of it. The First Paimon passed this memory to me. She heard Lord Ashcroft reference it once."

"Does every name belong to a Demon Lord?" Damon pressed, still eyeing the wall.

"Indeed. Certain ones remain active, others dormant. Some carry greater honor."

Damon pivoted toward her gradually.

"Why lead me here? This isn’t open to everyone."

Paimon regarded him briefly.

"Maybe someday you’ll rise as a Demon Lord bearing one of these. I wager Lucifer suits you."

She offered a subtle smile.

"Lord Ashcroft claimed a name from this list too, though he favored his personal one. He chose Satan, a mark of his supreme pride."

She motioned to the path forward.

"Onward. Your prizes await in the chamber ahead. You must enter solo."

Damon inclined his head. Thus, his name had been Satan Ashcroft.

He regarded the lovely priestess with a quick smile, then subtly engaged the communicator to summon Seras while advancing to the subsequent room housing the Ashcroft fragments.

Speed was essential.

He had to get back to Wendy, left waiting beyond the entrance.

Regarding the coil, he figured it lay in the facing chamber, concealed under thick magical barriers.

Damon shoved the massive door aside, anticipating a swift devouring of the fragments, a level increase, and fresh power.

The door barely parted when he halted abruptly.

"Ahh man, come on. This should be easy."

It proved far from simple.

The fragments had merged into a horrifying clump of bone and meat.

Damon discerned eyes nestled amid ribs, wings sprouting from a warped backbone, fingers sticking out at bizarre angles. He couldn’t guess the fragment count amassed there, but the view alone chilled his flesh. Their presence bore down oppressively, and from the heap emanated an insane urge to unite with him, like a voiceless wail scraping his thoughts.

Yet Damon hadn’t arrived to merge.

His purpose was to consume.

Fusion might suit true Ashcroft, but Damon was the conqueror. He’d seized the Dominator mantle from Ashcroft. These inferior, spiritless remnants sensed it.

And they resisted being eaten.

Damon advanced warily, scrutinizing the pile, when an oddity halted him.

He tilted slightly aside.

"Ohh... there’s a brain here too."

As soon as he uttered those words, the mass began to convulse wildly. Chunks of it stretched out grotesquely in an attempt to lunge at him, but a brilliant flash of light burst forth from the ground. Ancient seals and runes blazed to life throughout the chamber, yanking the fragments back with brutal force.

Damon breathed out sharply through his nostrils.

"Nice. I really should thank the Demon Continent for gathering you all up. There should be more of you... but I’ll enjoy what I have for now."

These would provide him with extra Dominator fragments. They would propel him straight to the pinnacle of the Fifth Class Advancement. If he managed to snatch the Ouroboros Coil next, he could even leap directly into Demon Lord status.

From his feet, his shadow started to ascend.

The Ashcroft fragments twisted in reaction, fighting once more, yet this time the shadow surged outward at blinding speed, flowing across the floor like ink blending into water. It scaled the walls, devoured the ceiling, and plunged the whole room into total blackness where no light could penetrate.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the darkness withdrew.

The shadows glided back to Damon’s feet as though nothing unusual had occurred.

A clear chime echoed inside his mind.

[You have leveled up]

...

A flurry of chimes rang out right after.

Damon gasped in shock.

His knees slammed against the floor with a thud as excruciating pain ripped through his frame. Muscles seized up fiercely, veins swelling prominently while an inner force churned and reshaped him. His bones ached like they were being hammered anew from the core.

His rank was being thrust toward the Fifth Class Advancement.