My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 1017 - 1019: Death Of Lazarak

Damon grasped one undeniable truth: resisting the tempest was futile. It was far wiser to surrender to its course and be carried wherever it dictated.

Without a moment's delay, he lay prone upon the small vessel. He secured the rope binding him more tightly around his waist, looped an arm through a railing for stability, and then bowed his head, bracing for the storm's fury.

A deafening roar split the heavens, the tempest's darkness resonating with the guttural cry of a dragon. Damon couldn't discern where the swirling clouds ended and the colossal Aethergon began. All he knew was that the creature was present. Once more, he felt the immense scale of the sky and the overwhelming power of a magnificent dragon.

He sealed his eyes, daring not to gaze upon Aethergon lest he attract its fearsome attention.

Colossal black waves surged upward, crashing against the diminutive boat, flinging it airborne only to slam it into another watery precipice. The vessel was violently pulled beneath the churning surface.

Initially, Damon remained calm. Then, a chilling realization struck him: this was not his own body. Drowning presented a stark and present danger to Mugu.

The boat's inherent buoyancy eventually propelled him back to the surface amidst a sea lit by striking lightning. The wind shrieked past his ears, and the rain assailed his skin like a barrage of needles as the boat began to skip erratically across the water's surface.

It felt as though eons passed before Aethergon finally subsided. By Ashcroft's later account, merely thirty minutes had elapsed. The dragon and its accompanying storm vanished as abruptly as they had manifested.

Damon found himself utterly immobile. He lay supine, gazing at the sun, his throat parched and burning. He slowly turned his head toward the water collected within the boat and lowered his face to drink.

"Ahhh, I have a feeling he is going to die before he reaches Soltheon," Damon mumbled, the bitter taste revealing the mixture of seawater and rainwater he had just consumed.

He remained in that position for a while, squinting against the sun's glare. Gradually, he raised his thumb, using its position to gauge his direction.

"Ahh, Soltheon should be that way then."

With renewed effort, he pulled himself upright and unfurled the sail. It was Mugu, not Damon, propelling the boat forward. Even in such a weakened state, he refused to falter.

"Abellona, I will save you."

This single vow was sufficient fuel to sustain his relentless purpose.

A faint smile touched Damon's lips as he observed Mugu's unwavering determination.

As if the world itself were lending a hand, wooden crates began to drift towards the boat. These were supplies salvaged from the wrecked ship, bobbing on the waves. Crates filled with provisions, flasks of fresh water, fruits, and various merchandise floated within easy reach.

Mugu let out a laugh, a sound of youthful exuberance contrasting with his hardened features. He seized the oars and began skillfully pulling the crates closer, one by one. He drank greedily and ate with unrestrained hunger until the boat was laden with the rescued provisions.

Ashcroft offered a chuckle.

"I do not know if fate is with him or against him."

Mugu pressed onward with his arduous journey. Two weeks drifted by on the vast, open expanse of the sea.

He stood at the vessel's edge, gazing intently towards the west.

"Hmm. I am almost out of food, and there is still no sign of land."

Damon placed a hand on his chin, lost in thought.

"It has been ten months since I began experiencing Mugu’s life. My anger has subsided, but I remain concerned about my capsule. I pray that not too much time has passed in the outside world."

"Perhaps it has. I am curious to know if it survives or simply perishes from starvation," Ashcroft commented.

"Shut up," Damon snapped instantly, his voice laced with a sharp edge that pierced the tranquility within his mind. He refused to entertain such a dreadful possibility.

He exhaled slowly, consciously redirecting his focus away from the unsettling thought.

"Anyway, some weeks ago you mentioned you would tell me about the great dragons."

"Ahh, so you have been persistently asking me about that," Ashcroft replied, a hint of amusement coloring his tone. "Very well. Since you are practically begging, I shall impart the knowledge. But in return, you owe me one question. Do we have a deal?"

Damon let out a sigh and gave a slight shake of his head.

"Sounds reasonable."

"Very well then."

Ashcroft's voice deepened, settling into a tone more resonant, more ancient.

"A long time ago, a deity known to you as Lazarak instigated a rebellion. He had just recently broken free from a world-bound dungeon. His final stand was made in Vuldren, the continent suspended in the sky. There, he cast many of the lesser gods into a slumber, but he himself perished in that very place. That marked the concluding clash of his rebellion."

Damon's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

So that was how Lazarak met his end.

Ashcroft continued without interruption.

"But that death was not an end. It was the genesis of something entirely new. From the very spot where he fell, his lingering desires and unfinished will coalesced, giving rise to what we now know as the Abyss, summoned by the Unknown God."

Damon fell silent, processing the profound implications of the tale.

"The Unknown God is referred to as the God of the Abyss because wherever his influence extends, an abyss manifests. It assumes myriad forms: a vortex of perpetual darkness, a maelstrom in the ocean, a scorching void within a desert, or even a tempest that devours all light. Any phenomenon that mirrors an abyss is a testament to his presence."

Damon's brow furrowed.

"How does this connect to the great dragons? I have never even heard whispers of an abyss in Vuldren."

Ashcroft emitted a soft scoff, as if Damon had posed a question of utmost obviousness.

"That occurs because, following Lazarak's demise, Aetherus, his sibling, lifted the sky continent into existence. This was done to subjugate the Abyss and diminish the Unknown God's pervasive influence. The Goddess then intervened, eradicating Lazarak's name from historical records, although a part of this action was likely orchestrated by him."

A somber cloud descended upon Damon as the gravity of these revelations washed over him.

Lazarak's death was not merely an endpoint; it was a catalyst that fundamentally reshaped their entire world.

It was no surprise, then, that the sky continent stood as the solitary floating landmass.

He pushed the thought further, urgent.

"The dragons," Damon prompted, his voice firm.

"Indeed. I was just arriving at that point," Ashcroft replied.

Ashcroft's demeanor shifted once more, his tone hardening considerably.

"These creatures originated from the shed scale dust of the primordial dragons that once dwelled within the true Abyss. During their existence, those magnificent dragons shed fragments from their scales. Such fragments mingled with this world's ley lines – what you refer to as dragon veins. This infusion is what ultimately gave rise to all dragons across the globe, including the most formidable ones."

A brief silence followed.

"They are not even genuine dragons. They are mere dust. Insignificant vestiges," he concluded.

Damon stood utterly still, processing this shock.

Those beings of calamity, those world-ending entities.

They were, in essence, just scale dust.

Not even an entire scale, but fragmented remnants.

Merely pieces of something that once existed in a far superior realm.

A chilling comprehension began to solidify within his chest.

Just how immensely powerful, then, must the true dragons have been?

Ashcroft continued his narrative, seemingly unmoved by Damon's reaction.

"Now you grasp the situation. Should a path leading out of this world exist, it undoubtedly lies within the sky continent. However, reaching it necessitates venturing into the Abyss. I have no doubt that any outsider weary of the ongoing Pillar War would contemplate such a perilous undertaking."

The wind sweeping across the vast ocean suddenly felt imbued with a profound, oppressive weight.