My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 1026 - 1028: Ray Of Sunshine To Banish The Abyss

The cry of a baby jolted Damon from his stupor. He hesitantly raised his head, finding himself staring at a rough surface inches from his face. It wasn't bark, but rather the immense canopy of a towering tree, its branches extending hundreds of meters into the sky, casting a deep, cool shade over the forest floor.

Something brushed against his cheek. Initially mistaking it for an insect, he then felt a faint pressure as tiny gums gnawed at his skin. It wasn't painful, barely noticeable, accompanied by a warm, milky scent as the small mouth gummed his face with unexpected persistence.

Motionless, Damon remained frozen in confusion, gazing straight ahead.

Suddenly, a flash of red entered his vision and whisked the infant away.

He blinked and pushed himself into a sitting position.

A baby, no older than a year, was being held by a scarlet squirrel. Nearby, beneath the colossal tree, a black raven was vigorously milking a struggling minotaur.

The raven struck the giant beast each time it attempted to resist, while the squirrel deftly guided the baby's mouth towards the minotaur's udder.

Damon watched, his expression utterly blank with disbelief.

By the time the milking concluded, the baby had ceased crying. The squirrel and raven cooed over it, completely engrossed in their care, oblivious to Damon now sitting up and observing them.

"Wh... what in the world is happening?"

They froze.

The squirrel, identifiable as Scar, turned first while still cradling the child. The raven, Croft, who had been fanning the baby with its wings, also slowly turned their heads towards Damon.

Their eyes widened.

A surge of hope, as if witnessing their salvation, washed over their faces.

Before Damon could utter another word, they hurried towards him. Scar reached him first and unceremoniously placed the baby into Damon's arms.

Damon instinctively caught her.

She was swaddled in familiar fabric, material from the system, from his shadow storage.

He glanced down and realized his shadow had been protectively enshrouding the child throughout.

It was a baby girl.

She was strikingly adorable.

"Is this..." Damon began.

"Squeal squeal squeal."

What followed was the most scathing insult Damon had ever encountered in squirrel language. He was quite sure he'd just been called a degenerate and a deadbeat father in at least seven distinct ways, conveyed solely through squeals.

Scar was incensed.

Croft joined in.

"Caw caw."

Though Damon didn't grasp the words, the emotion was undeniable.

They were venting.

About the hardships they had endured. The sleepless nights. The stress. The torment. The sheer suffering of caring for this child while Damon was incapacitated.

Damon looked down at the infant in his arms, then shifted his gaze to the base of the tree.

Scattered there were fragments of a shattered capsule and pieces of glass.

Shards from the Womb of Healing.

Which implied...

"Hmm. This little one is my daughter..."

Even as he spoke the words, they felt unreal, absurd.

The baby's minuscule hand clasped his finger with surprising strength, trembling with effort as she held on.

Damon blinked.

Then he noticed it.

His mouth fell open slowly.

The baby had already reached First Class Advancement.

"Ho... how is this possible..."

Damon inhaled deeply.

Ashcroft's voice resonated in his mind.

"Hmmm. How intriguing. I've never witnessed such talent. Not even I can compare."

"A prodigy," Damon murmured.

Yet, her exceptional talent was the least of his worries.

He was still grappling with the astonishing reality of having a daughter.

She bore no resemblance to him whatsoever.

Golden hair. Golden eyes.

His own genes hadn't even put up a fight; she looked as though she had been blessed by the sun. The only discernible trait inherited from her mother was her hair's texture.

Damon slowly looked back at Scar and Croft, who were still vocally expressing their grievances and gesturing animatedly, clearly lamenting the unfairness of life and the burdens of parenthood while accusing him of neglect.

He sighed, then furrowed his brow.

"How long was I asleep?"

He paused.

"And more importantly... where did you two procure a minotaur?"

Damon was soon regaled with an epic narrative filled with peril, affection, animosity, agony, and the trials of reluctant parenthood.

Evidently, three years had elapsed.

Scar and Croft had tracked him after Wendy's demise at Morticai's hands. When Damon plunged into the spatial rift created by the fractured dimensions, the pair had leaped in after him without hesitation.

Thus, they arrived in this realm.

It took them considerable time to locate him. Upon finally finding him, his shadow exhibited peculiar behavior, the reason for which they later discovered: Damon had utilized his blood and Wendy's blood with the Womb of Healing to conceive a child.

After a year, the child was ready to be born.

However, Damon remained unconscious.

With some assistance from his shadow, they managed to extract the capsule. However, the problem persisted: the infant remained securely within its confines. Neither Scar nor Croft possessed any knowledge of how to open the casing without jeopardizing its contents, leading them to leave it undisturbed.

For an additional year, the capsule remained sealed.

Then, spontaneously, it began to fracture, cracking open like an egg.

In an instant, the two creatures found themselves gazing upon a newborn baby, completely bewildered about the next steps.

Their fervent hope was for Damon to awaken.

He did not.

Consequently, they resorted to the only viable option: setting aside their incessant squabbles to collaborate on ensuring the infant's survival, guided somewhat by Damon’s shadow, which seemed to possess an innate understanding of childcare.

Their first action involved coercing the shadow into releasing fabrics, blankets, and duvets from Damon’s storage.

Following this, they abducted a female minotaur.

And proceeded to milk her.

Damon cast a glance at the minotaur, still present nearby, its features permanently etched with an expression of sheer terror and utter hopelessness.

"Well. That certainly clarifies the minotaur situation."

Their initial inclination was to flee with Damon, abandoning the location entirely. However, apprehension about the baby's ability to endure such a journey deterred them.

Scar, being the only one equipped with rudimentary hands, assumed the responsibilities of cradling, soothing, cleaning, and feeding the child.

Croft, meanwhile, undertook the duties of guarding the infant, procuring sustenance, and warding off any potential threats that ventured too close.

In every conceivable aspect, they had served as her parents.

It was easily overlooked, but both were nearing the Fourth Class Advancement. Beings of immense power had been reduced to the roles of exhausted caregivers.

Damon gazed down at the infant nestled in his arms, feeling a profound sense of detachment from the surrounding reality.

For them, a span of three years had elapsed.

For him, a full decade had passed within Mugu’s life experiences. He had lived it, felt it, and cherished it. His heart and mind had undergone a transformation as a result of that immersion. Upon his return, the sole burden he carried back was an overwhelming despair.

The chilling revelation concerning the Unknown God.

The crushing weight of that knowledge.

When he awoke, his heart had felt like an abyss of eternal night.

Yet, now, as his gaze fell upon the golden-haired child cradled in his embrace, it was as if a solitary beam of sunlight had pierced through that profound darkness.

It felt as though despair itself was a surmountable obstacle.

He tenderly brushed his finger against her tiny nose.

A soft, joyful sound escaped her, and she opened her mouth, as if attempting to playfully nip his finger.

A smile graced Damon’s lips.

"I genuinely believed you would be deceased when I rejoined you. I had already come to terms with that possibility. But it appears you possess quite the resilient spirit, don’t you, little ray of sunshine?"

"Shuh gah hah."

Her small hands reached out again, grasping his finger.

"You are akin to the sun... indeed. The sun. Ranar."

A warm, delicate sensation began to stir within his chest. His divine spark pulsed faintly, emitting a soft, ethereal glow.

"Ranar signifies the sun. It was the name of an individual who cherished me deeply. The name of someone I held dear. You are my sun."

He gently lowered his forehead to meet hers.

"My Ranar."

Ranar had been his mother’s name.

And although this child bore no physical resemblance to him, she possessed an uncanny likeness to his mother. The same golden features. The identical warmth. The sole discernible difference was her petite stature, small enough to be held effortlessly.

He harbored the sincere wish that she would mature into someone equally beautiful.

For the very first time, the insidious seed of depravity residing within Damon experienced a weakening, while concurrently, his divine spark surged with newfound strength.

The passage of time seemed to stretch and suspend.

The world around them gradually receded, until it felt as though only the two of them occupied existence.

Within this realm of reality, a universal yearning existed: the desire to be indispensable to someone.

Mugu had yearned for Abellona’s need for him. When that need was no longer present, he descended from grace, transforming into a malevolent entity bent on bringing about universal annihilation as a means to end his own profound suffering.

Damon remained uncertain whether Ashcroft's descent had followed a similar trajectory.

However, he found himself empathizing with Mugu's plight.

His entire existence, the very purpose that propelled him forward, had been centered on safeguarding his sister. He had longed to be needed by her.

"Ranar Grey. Does this name please you?"

"Dahh ahh hah gugghh."

She responded with cheerful, nonsensical vocalizations, yet Damon found himself utterly captivated by her presence.

He had undeniably, completely, fallen in love.

Observing from the periphery, Scar and Croft regarded him with impassive, unimpressed expressions.

They had endured hardship. They had cleaned her, fed her, protected her, weathered sleepless nights, and grappled with relentless stress.

And this man had awakened, held her for a mere five minutes, and bestowed a name upon her.

They looked towards Ranar.

She appeared content.

They exchanged glances.

If their master wished to claim the credit for their arduous efforts, they would graciously permit it.

Provided that she continued to smile.

"The Unknown God proclaims that We are compelled to exist. Existence itself is suffering. Let all things end," Damon murmured to himself.

"Then why does this feel so profoundly worth protecting?"