My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 1025 - 1027: A Reader

Upon awakening, Mugu found himself fundamentally altered.

Several tomes, artifacts of the Unknown God with an unnerving chill, lay beside him.

His core attribute had undergone a transformation, evolving from Decay to Entropy, the universal principle of inevitable breakdown.

This intrinsic law permeated his surroundings, noticeable in the settling dust, the minute fractures in stone, and the subtle weakening of life itself in his proximity.

Furthermore, two of the Unknown God's divine authorities were now within his grasp, one of which was the formidable Boundary Maker.

Most significantly, Damon could no longer exert control over his body.

Mugu required no system; as the Prophet of the Unknown God, direct communion with the deity was his conduit.

By the time he stood, his cultivation had already ascended to the Fifth Class.

A Seed of Depravity had taken root within him, marking his transformation into a demon.

However, the physical changes were proceeding at a pace slower than Damon had anticipated.

Ashcroft provided the explanation:

"Mugu has not yet achieved the final stage. He lacks a sufficient number of souls."

In essence, Mugu still needed to inflict death, to claim lives, in order to complete his metamorphosis into a true demon.

Damon, conversely, had amassed enough souls but had not been compelled to the threshold required for demonization.

Even Ashcroft conceded that the nuances of demonization remained partially obscured, known only in fragments.

Mugu then journeyed back to Lysithara.

The instant he entered the city, Damon experienced an unsettling premonition, as if the very fabric of reality were beginning to fray.

He turned slowly, seeking to comprehend the strange phenomenon.

Ashcroft let out a sigh.

"You are on the verge of awakening. Or perhaps, the Unknown God has revealed all that he intended for you to perceive."

Damon's gaze remained fixed on Mugu's retreating back as he proceeded further into the city.

"No. We have not witnessed everything. This is insufficient."

Ashcroft fell silent for a beat before responding, "Indeed. It is sufficient. This juncture presents a peril for us. It is here that he aids in the construction of the Crystal Tower and the summoning of the Outsiders. Certain among these beings possess transcendent abilities, capable of sensing you even within a recollection."

Damon paused, a new consideration dawning.

Perhaps the Unknown God was not intent on withholding further revelations.

Perhaps the intent was protection.

Ashcroft's tone carried a hint of irritation.

"Nevertheless, I must verify one matter before our departure."

"What is it?" Damon inquired.

The world around them began to accelerate, time surging forward. The sun, the moon, and the surrounding landscape became a blur as years elapsed in mere moments.

"Regarding the prince of Valtheron. There was something amiss when Mugu encountered him again."

Damon observed the rapid passage of years, endeavoring to etch every detail of Mugu’s life into his memory.

Ashcroft spoke with urgency, "Direct your attention to the mark upon your arm before it vanishes. Utilize it as an anchor to a specific point in time. Halt the progression here."

"I am unable to achieve that," Damon stated, his head shaking in negation.

"Attempt it. I shall provide assistance. This is of paramount importance."

Damon drew in a breath and nodded in assent.

Ashcroft commenced an incantation, his words echoed by Damon as he focused with all his might.

The world’s momentum abruptly ceased.

In that stillness, Damon beheld Mugu once more.

Years had elapsed. Mugu had departed Lysithara for a second time, only to return to the Doom Continent.

This time, he convened the neighboring kingdoms, demanding their fealty.

He anticipated their refusal.

Thus, he selected a solitary example.

The nearest kingdom, Valtheron, bore the brunt of his wrath.

On a bleak, rain-lashed night, Mugu infiltrated the royal palace, initiating a brutal massacre. He dispatched all in his path without a flicker of hesitation.

The reigning king attempted to resist but was hopelessly outmatched.

Of the king's three offspring, Mugu claimed the lives of two.

Abellona, alongside the youngest child and a handful of escaped subjects, fled towards Soltheon.

Damon remained suspended within the throne room in the aftermath of Mugu’s departure. The temporal flow continued its relentless march, yet Ashcroft insisted on maintaining their current position.

Damon remained unaware of Ashcroft's specific objective.

He deferred, however, to Ashcroft's millennia of experience, and so he waited.

The king lay slumped beneath the throne, a gaping wound in his chest. Blood pooled around him as he weakly uttered his final words.

Damon leaned in, straining to hear.

Initially, his words seemed nonsensical.

"I... I truly could not alter the storyline... I have still met my demise... the destined villain's narrative arc... hahaha... I made an effort to change it..."

Damon's brow furrowed. The king's pronouncements held no discernible meaning for him.

But Ashcroft suddenly uttered an exasperated curse.

"Scoundrel. I knew it. I absolutely knew it."

Damon looked towards him, inquiring,

"The storyline? What is he referring to?"

Ashcroft’s countenance darkened with grim realization.

"He is a transmigrator. A reader, if my assessment is accurate."

Damon's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What precisely does that signify?"

"It implies that he, too, is an outsider. The original prince and this individual are not one and the same. The prince may have perished at some juncture, or come perilously close, and his consciousness was supplanted by a being from another world."

Ashcroft fell silent, his gaze cast downwards in contemplation, before resuming his speech.

"He spoke of the sequence of events. This implies he possessed knowledge of this world and the circumstances surrounding his current vessel prior to his arrival."

Damon's brow furrowed as the disparate clues began to connect in his mind.

"Are you suggesting what I suspect? That he..."

"Yes," Ashcroft interjected.

"Such occurrences are not as uncommon as you might imagine. Reincarnation is achievable. My own existence is a testament to that. I myself was transferred from another realm into this one."

Around them, the fabric of reality started to disintegrate. Faint fissures spiderwebbed through the atmosphere, akin to stress fractures appearing in solid glass.

Damon's gaze sharpened at the unfolding spectacle.

"If he was aware of the established narrative, he must have attempted to alter his preordained destiny. This would account for his uncharacteristic kindness towards Abellona. The original prince was a vile wretch who wronged her. From her perspective, his transformation must have seemed instantaneous."

He pivoted slowly, observing the widening chasms in the air.

Understanding flooded his features.

"I comprehend it now. Mugu's descent into monstrosity wasn't due to being forgotten. The Unknown God masterminded the entire charade. He supplanted the original prince of Valtheron with an imposter to steer events toward a predetermined conclusion."

Damon's voice gained a newfound firmness as the theory solidified.

"Leveraging his divine omniscience, he authored narratives in alternate dimensions, disseminating them as commonplace fiction. From the readership, he singled out the individual most instrumental to his scheme, implanting them within the persona of the story's antagonist."

Ashcroft absorbed his words without comment, his expression growing somber.

"He was aware of the protagonist's identity. In this particular instance, Mugu."

"Indeed," Ashcroft affirmed, his voice hushed. "That interpretation is remarkably close to the truth."

His tone hardened considerably.

"It is easy to overlook. The Unknown God is not merely a divine entity. He is also a demon. A demon characterized by patience, cunning, and utter malevolence."

A resonant fury laced his speech.

"Across four great epochs, from the initial Zero Epoch to the present moment, he has never suffered a genuine defeat. All has unfolded according to his intricate design. I can state with certainty that Mugu did not meet a fortunate end. Nor did I. And neither, I assure you, will you."

The world disintegrated entirely, yielding to an expanse of pure white void that stretched limitlessly in all directions.

At the far end of this emptiness, Damon perceived a man and a woman locked in a deadly embrace, both drenched in crimson ichor. They had impaled each other in the aftermath of a ferocious confrontation.

So, this was the manner of Mugu's demise.

He had perished in combat against Abellona.

They knelt, facing one another, blood coursing down their forms and pooling around them.

The woman's lips quivered as she uttered a faint whisper,

"I love you..."

Mugu's chest cavity was ripped asunder, his heart brutally exposed. Enormous demonic horns spiraled from his scalp. His eyes, though weary and vacant, blazed with potent venom.

He extended a trembling hand, seizing her by the throat and forcing her downward.

"I despise you."

His blood-slicked grip tightened, even as her dagger remained plunged deep within his heart.

Such was the tragic conclusion for two souls entwined by love.

In a world governed by justice, love might have triumphed.

The void fell into an unnerving silence as their lifeless bodies slumped together, intertwined in death's embrace.

Damon observed the scene, utterly speechless.

"I surmise that had the narrative not been disrupted by the interloper, Abellona would have been saved by Mugu," he remarked softly, a current of melancholy threading through his voice.

"Perhaps," Ashcroft conceded.

"They might have cultivated a tranquil existence in Lysithara. Possibly, they could have started a family. Mugu might have ascended to the status of a sage."

A profound sorrow enveloped Damon.

Who bore responsibility for Mugu's ultimate fate?

The original prince of Valtheron?

Or the enigmatic Unknown God?

Ashcroft's voice remained devoid of inflection.

"It is immaterial. This is how the past unfolded. Hypotheticals alter nothing."

Damon's jaw clenched, his resolve hardening.

"The Unknown God is a charlatan. He espouses the virtue of choice, yet demonstrates the utter futility of our decisions. What genuine agency do we possess when a being of his caliber decrees all potential outcomes as inherently wicked and mandates the annihilation of the omniverse?"

The final vestiges of the world crumbled away.

What then greeted Damon was the piercing cry of a newborn infant.