My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 1007 - 1009: The First Coming

Seras found herself at a loss for how to respond. A demon lord had just solicited her assistance. For a moment, she remained immobile, her gaze fixed on Paimon as if the spoken words had not registered.

"No. I refuse. You are the enemy," Seras declared, her fingers instinctively gripping her sword's hilt. How could she possibly collaborate with a demon?

Paimon clenched her teeth, a surge of frustration evident.

"We cannot halt this alone. Should those Outsiders manage to break free, this world is doomed. Your race – human, elf, beast kin, or demon – will be inconsequential. We shall all meet the same end."

Seras faltered. Her eyes, seemingly of their own accord, drifted downwards, landing on Damon amidst the scattered ruins below. He stood with his sword drawn, his gaze directed upwards at the colossal entity dominating the sky.

"I will not help you," she stated firmly. "However, if your fight happens to align with my own enemy, then fate dictates it. No one dares lay a hand on my people."

With an explosive boom, she disappeared from her position.

The very air around her imploded into a brilliant white light, a testament to her incredible speed as she propelled herself towards Ittorath. Her blade sliced through the atmosphere in a sharp, clean arc, yet it passed through his form as if he were merely ethereal smoke.

Paimon materialized beside her in the blink of an eye.

"He is a being of a metaphysical nature. Physical assaults will prove futile. Concentrate on the artifact. Destroy it if necessary," Paimon's voice cut through the deafening pandemonium.

The sky itself began to tear apart, stretching from one horizon to the other. The spectral image of an enormous prison materialized, suspended above the world like a second, superimposed reality. Within its confines, figures bound by heavy chains strained against their restraints, their gazes filled with eager anticipation.

Far out at sea, aboard a formidable warship, the Grand Duke observed the fractured heavens. Beside him, the Emperor tightly gripped his lip.

"Our time has run out. We have yet to locate the Tomb of Lesser Gods."

The Grand Duke released a slow, measured breath.

"Then we shall fight."

He ascended into the air, hurtling towards the demon continent. The Emperor followed suit. They were not the only ones. Across the face of the globe, every individual who had achieved the seventh class advancement rose into the heavens. Streaks of brilliant light traversed the sky like comets, all converging on a single, urgent destination.

On the demon continent, several demon lords had already commenced their movement towards the anomaly. They arrived to find utter chaos reigning. Paimon and Seras were locked in a desperate assault against Ittorath, who remained ensconced behind a protective barrier, ceaselessly chanting his incantations.

Additional demon lords emerged from distant lands, ascending into the sky and rapidly converging on the unfolding conflict.

In that critical juncture, any individual possessing sufficient power grasped the stark reality.

The protracted war between the goddess races and the demon races had lost all significance.

Only one objective remained paramount.

Preventing the Outsiders from achieving their freedom...

Seras scanned her surroundings as two demon lords descended in trails of dark luminescence. These must be the reinforcements Paimon had summoned earlier. For a fleeting instant, Seras tensed, a flicker of apprehension crossing her mind that they might turn against her.

Paimon's voice pierced the cacophony.

"Confront that entity immediately. We must act quickly."

The demon lords averted their gazes from Seras and charged at Ittorath without a moment's delay. Inferno-like flames and radiant beams filled the sky as their combined attacks impacted the barrier. Each strike sent spiderwebbing fractures racing across its surface, resembling cracks forming in delicate glass.

Below, Damon seized Wendy and pulled her down, using his own body to shield her as the aerial battlefield devolved into a spectacle far beyond their comprehension.

More luminous forms began to materialize on the distant horizon.

First came the demon lords. Damon sensed his grandfather's formidable aura before seeing him. Then the Emperor. Following them, the Elf Kings. One after another, figures radiating immense power arrived, filling the sky until it resembled a celestial storm descending upon the temple grounds.

Upon his arrival, Damon's grandfather's eyes briefly met his.

Before any words could be exchanged, a searing white flash erupted nearby, and a demon lord let out a guttural snarl.

"Damian Brightwater."

The Grand Duke's brow furrowed, followed by a dismissive scoff.

"Adramelech. I observe your designated seat has been refilled once more."

The palpable tension crackling between them was sharp enough to sever, but Paimon intervened without hesitation.

"Enough. It holds no relevance at this moment. Focus on that creature."

They exchanged a prolonged glance before turning away. They were not the sole ancient adversaries present. Numerous individuals gathered here bore histories etched in blood.

Flashes of light relentlessly bombarded the barrier. Each impact caused Ittorath's form to waver and distort alarmingly.

He uttered a furious curse.

"Vile insects of the lower realm, curse you all! Had I my full power, your existence would be insignificant."

The barrier finally succumbed and shattered into nothingness.

The instant it dissolved, Paimon unleashed a sealing sigil towards the Ouroboros Coil. The artifact pulsed with light, its power beginning to wane as it was effectively suppressed. Ittorath found himself assailed from all conceivable directions by a barrage of spells, energy beams, and divine strikes.

Yet, a smile played on his lips.

His incantation was already complete.

Drawing upon the Ouroboros Coil's last vestiges of power, he hurled it towards the dimensional rift.

"I summon thee, Morticai."

Within the spectral confines of the reflected prison, a profound stirring commenced.

A seal fractured and broke.

An aura, more immense than the heavens themselves, descended upon the world, causing all to freeze in place. This presence felt as though it could shatter galaxies and extinguish stars.

Flames erupted violently.

A colossal bird wreathed in fire burst through a spatial barrier. The world itself seemed to react, ensnaring the being with unseen laws and forcibly suppressing its might down to the seventh class.

Even in its restrained state, the power was utterly overwhelming.

A phoenix let out a piercing roar that echoed across the sky of Aetherus.

Within the confines of a prison, an elderly man clad in star-embroidered wizard robes flailed his arms wildly, shouting.

"Choose me. Choose me next. You require a wizard. A wizard is absolutely essential."

Ittorath let out a sigh. He possessed the residual power for only two more summons.

"I summon you, Orbitus. Great wizard."

A sinister chuckle escaped the old man as the seal surrounding him shattered. The laws of magic manifested visibly in the air, coalescing into a staff within his grasp. He emerged, laughing maniacally, and alighted upon the phoenix's back, his power subdued by the world's might.

Ittorath then surveyed the remaining figures. Numerous individuals gestured towards themselves, their eagerness palpable.

Only one remained motionless.

A cultivator stood with remarkable calmness, observing the scene.

Ittorath offered a disdainful sneer. A pact had already been forged between them long ago.

"For my final summoning, I call upon you, Zhang Dafei."

A vast spiritual aura unfurled across the expanse of the sky. Manifestations of dragons and phoenixes appeared in the air as a robed man stepped forward, positioning himself upon a flying sword.

A faint smile touched his lips.

"Many thanks, fellow daoist."