My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 1028 - 1030: Grown Up
Previously on My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger...
Evangeline attempted to explain. Her lips moved with haste, her hands gesticulated wildly, and words tumbled out in a torrent, yet there was a distinct lack of proof to substantiate any of her claims. The singular piece of evidence that everyone deemed sufficient was the infant cradled in Damon’s arms.
Her face flushed a deep crimson as she desperately tried to defend herself. Damon, however, managed to exacerbate the situation. He advanced towards her, his gaze drifting down to the baby, and uttered softly, "Come, Ranar. Go to mommy." It was as if he had just given the child his explicit approval. Ranar immediately extended her small arms towards Evangeline. All of Evangeline's arguments vanished, unspoken. Instinctively, she accepted the baby, and the resemblance became undeniably apparent – the hair, the eyes, even the peculiar way the child blinked. A hushed murmur rippled through the hall. Evangeline slowly understood, with a mounting sense of dread, that Damon had just irrevocably damaged her reputation without even trying.
At that precise moment, Lilith Astranova, adorned in a flowing crimson gown, approached and halted directly before him. "You have been absent for three years," she stated, her eyes scrutinizing him intently. "And you return with an infant. Whose child is this?" Damon parted his lips to utter 'Eva,' but then paused. A smile bloomed across his features as he smoothly reclaimed Ranar into his embrace. "This is Ranar. She is mine," he proclaimed with an easy grin. "I did not abduct her, should that be your suspicion. It's true, she bears no resemblance to me, but *I* am the odd one out here. I don't even look like my mother. She, however, does. Just look at her. Classic Brightwater lineage." Evangeline and the assembled company stared at him as though he had taken leave of his senses.
"You have a daughter. That poor child," Evangeline murmured, shaking her head. "He has a daughter. That unfortunate baby," Xander muttered under his breath. "That baby needed our assistance," Leona whispered. Damon shot them a disgruntled look. "You all just vocalized the unspoken thoughts." Lilith let out a sigh, massaging her temple. Nearby, Abellona maintained a strained smile. Then, the question that occupied everyone’s mind was voiced: "Who is the baby’s mother?" Damon's expression underwent a transformation. His tone grew solemn as he bit his lip. "Who do you imagine?" They required little time to deduce the answer. He gently passed Ranar back to Evangeline. "Here. She is your responsibility now. Best of luck." Evangeline accepted the baby as if by reflex and began to gently sway her. "What is wrong with you? Don't even think about departing without her." Damon's gaze flickered towards Xander, whose wedding had been spectacularly upstaged. "Oh, right. Congratulations on your wedding, Xander. Seems I beat you to fatherhood." Xander scoffed, brushing his hair back. "It's not a competition. And congratulations on fatherhood, Damon." Damon turned to Emilia Highgon. "I am profoundly sorry about this," he said with utmost sincerity. She misinterpreted his meaning. "It's quite alright. The interruption did not bother me." "Interruption? That is not the reason for my apology," Damon replied, a look of confusion on his face. Xander sighed. "He is apologizing for the fact that you had to marry me." Damon smirked. Xander understood him all too well. He stepped up to the bride, placed a hand gently on her shoulder, and declared in an exaggeratedly emotional tone, "Forgive me." He was about to elaborate when he sensed a chilling stare upon him. He turned. Sylvia was observing him with an utterly impassive expression. Damon offered an awkward little wave. She whispered, "I want one too." His lips quivered.
Over the subsequent minutes, individuals formed a queue to converse with Damon, effectively hijacking Xander's wedding for all practical purposes. Eventually, after acknowledging what felt like half the assembled nobility, he managed to extricate himself for a brief private meeting with his uncle and grandfather. He noted Sera’s absence, and for reasons he couldn't quite fathom, that fact disappointed him more than he had anticipated. They convened around a long table within a commodious war room. An expansive map dominated the surface, adorned with tokens, demarcated borders, and hastily drawn lines that indicated shifting battlefronts and desperate strategic maneuvers. "Welcome back home," his uncle Cassian greeted him, observing him closely. "It appears I should offer you early congratulations on reaching the sixth class." Damon frowned slightly. He hadn't considered himself anywhere near that milestone, yet the conviction in Cassian's voice prompted him to reconsider. "Enough of that," his grandfather interjected, leaning forward with a stern expression that did little to conceal his underlying concern. "Why don't you explain to this old man where you've been all this time?" "I was lying unconscious on the Sky Continent for the past three years. I only regained consciousness three weeks ago and had to find my way back. What is transpiring? What is the current status of the war?" Cassian's gaze dropped to the map. "The war is the least of our concerns at this juncture. Those Outsiders have commenced deploying more of their kind, and we have sustained grievous casualties." Damon folded his arms and exhaled slowly.
"Then Ittorath is free." "Not yet," his grandfather replied. "They have been gathering in Lysithara. For now, we have a secret agreement with the demon race to work together." Damon’s brow creased. That was unexpected. Things had to be far worse than he imagined for such an alliance to exist. Cassian noticed his expression and shook his head. "I understand how you feel. You must hate demons as much as Luna does, but we have no choice. This was actually proposed by the Temple." Damon remained silent. In truth, he did not feel strongly about demons anymore. Not when he himself was more demon than man. "Does the Temple have some trump card," he asked quietly, "or are they just expecting everyone to march to their deaths?" His grandfather smiled faintly. "I would expect no less from my grandson. Yes, they do. The god of this world has awakened, and as of this moment, we are all subject to his will." Damon’s eyes narrowed slightly. "God of this world?" "By that, I do not mean the Goddess of Doom," the old man clarified. "But he acts on her will. Which means we are fighting with divine guidance." He paused, and for a brief moment, uncertainty flickered in his eyes. "The god known as Aetherus. A god of war. Long ago, he was gravely wounded and fell into a deep slumber for ages. Now, he has awakened." Damon kept his face neutral. Aetherus was powerful, yes, but one minor god would not shift the balance against transcendent Outsiders. "I assume he will not be dealing with all of them on his own." Cassian shook his head. "If it were that easy, we would not be locked in a stalemate while our enemies grow stronger by the day." A dull ache formed behind Damon’s temples. "They cannot take Lysithara. Even in ruins, the city is very much alive. Its denizens do not take lightly to Outsiders." "That is true," his grandfather said. "As far as we can tell, Lysithara itself is resisting them. The entire place has become a battlefield." Damon tapped a finger lightly against the table as he thought. "If Ittorath is free and still in Lysithara, then he either cannot leave or has a reason to stay. He and the Outsiders must be locked in conflict with the city’s inhabitants." The Grand Duke smiled. "Yes. That is correct. They are caught in a prolonged battle. Our plan is to let both sides exhaust themselves. That gives us time to search." Damon looked up. "For what?" Cassian leaned forward, lowering his voice. "For reinforcements. We are searching for a place called the Tomb of Lesser Gods." Damon did not react outwardly. "The Tomb of Lesser Gods is said not to be a burial ground, but a place where lesser gods slumber. Long ago, Lord Aetherus had a brother who rebelled against the Goddess. When he did, he sealed away the other gods who fought against him. His name has been erased from history." Damon nodded slowly as they recounted the story of Lazarak. He listened as if hearing it for the first time. In truth, he knew exactly where that tomb was. He also knew they could never be allowed to enter it. It was his base of operations. The enchantment keeping the lesser gods asleep was tied to Lazarak’s Lake of Tears, and that mechanism was now effectively in Damon’s hands. Everything had converged on him, yet he did not know which move to make. His goal had always been the Pillar of Conflict. Deliver it to the Unknown God, receive his reward, and leave this world with the embodiment of conflict itself. But nothing felt simple anymore. He still held resentment toward the Unknown God, yet he understood a hard truth now. He was no longer a child. There was no defeating an absolute being. ’Should I betray the Unknown and call upon Doom instead?’ If he did, what would stop the Goddess from tearing him apart the way she did Ashcroft? Surely Ashcroft had once thought the same thing. It had not ended well for him. "How long do we have?" Damon asked quietly. Cassian’s expression darkened. "Not very long."