My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 1024 - 1026: Unknown God’s True Plan

Mugu pressed onward without pause.

For days he flew, driving the wyvern across the vast ocean and pushing it far beyond its natural limits. Its wings beat with diminishing strength each passing hour, its breaths becoming ragged and uneven. By the time Soltheon’s distant coastline emerged into view, the magnificent creature was barely capable of staying airborne.

A single day of continued flight later.

It plummeted from the heavens.

The wyvern crashed violently into the dense forest below, its colossal body tearing through thick branches before striking the earth with a resounding thud. It let out one final, guttural roar that reverberated through the surrounding trees, then lay utterly still.

Mugu was violently ejected from its back. He collided with a sturdy tree, sliding down its trunk before landing heavily upon the forest floor. Miraculously, the impact spared his life. He remained there, motionless, gazing up at the sky through the fractured canopy above.

A profound emptiness settled in his chest. It felt as though something essential had been extracted, leaving a void.

For many years, he had been propelled by a burning rage, by a deep-seated hatred, and by a resentment so fierce it had carried him across entire continents.

Now, that intense resentment had no direction. There was no adversary to confront, no vile creature to vanquish.

Was he meant to harbor animosity towards Abellona? Was it his destiny to slaughter her offspring?

A broken, hollow laugh escaped his lips.

"Haha... haha... hah..."

Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the dirt on the ground.

"What was all of this for? What is... what was it truly for? What is the ultimate meaning behind everything I have accomplished?"

Answering silence was his only companion.

Damon observed the scene in quiet contemplation. Even he was unsure of what a person should do after losing the sole purpose that had defined their existence.

Mugu lifted his head, abruptly slamming it against the unforgiving ground.

"What is the point of even being born..." he uttered mournfully.

A malevolent sensation stirred within his heart. A seed, nurtured by despair and lingering resentment, took root in the emptiness that now consumed him. And as this seed began to grow, something responded from the abyss.

A voice echoed from behind him.

It sounded distant and chilling, yet possessed a strange softness. It was simultaneously beautiful and horrifying, seeming to whisper directly into his ear while also being impossibly far away.

"We are not given a choice in our birth; we are compelled into existence. Today marks a terrible day. Tomorrow promises to be even more dreadful. In the end, all things will inevitably cease. Memories fade, perishing with time – the ultimate destroyer."

Mugu slowly turned his head.

His gaze fell upon the lifeless form of the wyvern.

Its body was grotesquely twisted from the brutal fall. Its neck was bent at an unnatural, sickening angle. Crimson blood had already begun to dry along its dark scales. It was undeniably, irrevocably dead.

Yet, its massive jaw hung open.

And from its gaping maw, the enigmatic voice continued to speak.

"Wh-what is this..." Mugu stammered, his voice barely a whisper.

The voice showed no reaction, simply repeating itself with the same unnerving, calm cadence.

"We are not given a choice in our birth; we are compelled into existence..."

Mugu felt it then, a palpable presence emanating from within the wyvern's corpse. Something immense. Something so far beyond his comprehension that his mind struggled to even begin to grasp its magnitude. It pressed against him, an undeniable urge compelling him to echo the words he had just heard.

He resisted at first. He was consumed by terror.

But what did he truly have left to lose?

And so, he spoke.

"We are not given a choice in our birth," he whispered, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

His childhood flashed before his eyes – a simple boy, living a life he never selected. No true parents, only Abellona.

"We are compelled into existence."

He had never chosen any part of his journey. He had simply existed, propelled forward by the relentless current of fate.

"Today marks a terrible day."

A nobleman had cruelly snatched Abellona from him. He had dedicated ten arduous years of his life striving solely to retrieve her.

"Tomorrow promises to be even more dreadful."

Ten years later, he had returned, vastly more powerful, only to discover she had never required his protection.

"In the end, all things will inevitably cease. Memories fade, perishing with time – the ultimate destroyer."

His profound pain. His deep love. His burning hatred. Abellona. Lysithara. Every single thing he had ever held dear.

All of it would eventually vanish, lost to the annals of time.

If ultimate destruction was the final destination for all existence, then what was the true meaning of anything he had ever done?

Mugu began to weep and laugh simultaneously, his entire body wracked with uncontrollable tremors.

What sort of profound madness was this?

Was this spectral entity suggesting that absolutely nothing held any significance?

Or was it, perhaps, revealing the sole, undeniable truth that had ever existed?

A flat, weathered rock lay a short distance away.

Mugu slowly made his way towards it, knelt down, and with his fingers, traced the enigmatic words onto its surface, etching them in with faint threads of pure magic. The stone emitted a low hiss as the ethereal letters burned themselves into its very substance.

He leaned back against the inscribed rock, his gaze returning to the deceased wyvern.

Its head remained at that impossible, unnatural angle, clinging to its body by only a thin shred of torn flesh. Dark streaks of dried blood marred its once-majestic scales.

With an expression of strange, unsettling calm, Mugu posed a question. "Who are you?"

He pondered if this was akin to the dark entities rumored to reside within the Duhu Mountains.

The voice responded, its tone as gentle and enigmatic as before.

"I am Unknown. The Unknown God."

"Unknown..." Mugu murmured, his eyes still fixed on the wyvern's corpse. "What is it that you desire from me?"

"I was summoned here by you. The deep resentment festering within your heart called me forth."

The voice seemed to emanate from every direction simultaneously – from the rustling trees, from the very air around him, and disconcertingly, from within his own mind.

Mugu closed his eyes, a profound sense of detachment washing over him. He no longer felt concern.

"You are a god. What would a god want with me? I am only a defeated soul."

"Then why does your soul cry out so loudly?" the Unknown replied. "You and I are kindred spirits."

Mugu reopened his eyes, a faint darkness settling within their depths.

"How so? You are a god. I am merely a mortal."

The wyvern’s corpse began to stir.

Its limbs twitched and scraped across the soil, like torn paper. Dried flesh split open, and blood started to seep anew, dripping to the ground as the body shifted in an unnatural manner.

"I am the god of the wronged. Of the downtrodden. No matter how I strive, I can never eradicate evil. For as long as goodness exists, evil will persist. For as long as there is darkness, light will emerge."

The Unknown God paused for a moment.

"I summon you to assist me in ushering in salvation for this omniverse. There are countless beings who suffer, just as you have endured."

Mugu lifted his head slightly.

"How do you intend to achieve this?"

The voice remained steady and calm.

"By bringing an end to all existence. I shall return everything to the state it was in before even the concept of nothingness was conceived. There will be no suffering. No pain. No anguish. Only eternal silence. We will not be compelled to be born, for there shall be no birth."

Damon gasped at those pronouncements.

So this, then, was the true objective of the Unknown God. The ultimate cessation of everything.

He cast a glance at Mugu.

Surely, Mugu wasn't actually going to accept this offer, was he?

Mugu slowly raised his hand.

"I agree."

He placed his palm against his chest.

"I simply wish for this pain to end. And if I had never been born... I would have been spared from feeling it."

"I proclaim you, Mugu, Prophet of the Unknown God."

The wyvern’s corpse suddenly exploded outwards.

Flesh tore and flew in all directions, blood spraying widely and splashing across the earth. The crimson liquid didn't disperse randomly; instead, it flowed across the ground as if guided by an unseen force, merging into lines and curves that materialized into a vast sigil directly beneath Mugu’s feet.

Damon recognized it instantly. It was the symbol of the Unknown God.

The sigil flared brilliantly and ascended like a crimson mist, enveloping Mugu’s form. Power forcefully pressed inward from every angle. Mugu’s back arched, his eyes sliding shut as the raw energy surged into him.

Damon observed from the periphery.

Then, he noticed something that caused his breath to catch in his throat.

The wyvern’s skeleton still possessed eyes.

They rested, wet and whole, within the hollow skull, slowly rotating in their sockets. They weren't looking at Mugu.

They were fixed upon him.

Upon him and Ashcroft.

Even though this was merely a memory, a dreamlike echo of the past, the Unknown God was gazing directly at them through the deceased wyvern.

Mugu’s body began to writhe violently within the sigil. His muscles spasmed and contracted as if he were being torn apart from the inside.

A profound silence ensued.

Damon finally broke the quiet.

"So this is why you desire the Pillar of Conflict. Not just that single artifact, but all the pillars. This is your grand scheme: to annihilate everything."

His voice emerged sharp, laced with indignation. He seemed unfazed by the fact that he was addressing a god.

The wyvern’s eyes remained locked onto him.

Then, the voice responded.

"You are here because I willed it. You witness this because I desired you to see it. I shall acquire the pillars. All thirteen of them. And when I succeed, there shall be an omniverse of absolute silence."

Damon was about to reply when a specific word lodged itself in his mind.

Thirteen.

The instant the number registered, his mastery over fate manipulation resistance faltered. Something within him resisted, preventing a vital memory from surfacing.

He narrowed his eyes.

"So there are thirteen pillars. I suppose you intended for us to know that as well."

Ashcroft, who had remained silent until this point, let out a low scoff.

"I have a strong suspicion this was orchestrated from the very beginning. Mugu’s downfall was part of your design. What I cannot comprehend is the 'how'."

Damon glanced at him.

Was Ashcroft suggesting that the Unknown God had arranged for Mugu to become a demon? That all of this had been carefully manipulated into place? If so, which aspects had been tampered with?

The voice spoke once more, its tone calm and assured.

"You will comprehend as things conclude. You will perceive the utter futility of opposing me. Know this: you shall never prevail against me, regardless of how deeply the poison festers within your hearts."