My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 1042 - 1044: He Cometh

Damon was utterly amazed. The combined might of the goddess races possessed the power to reshape the very world. Before them lay hundreds of siege engines and thousands upon thousands of troops gathered in this very territory.

And more forces were continuously arriving.

The entire forest had been felled, incinerated, and subdued through conflict to carve out this expanse. Massive structures were rapidly erected, adorned with countless barriers and seals. Rune masters and mages hurried in tight clusters, their assistants struggling behind under the load of materials, tools, and inscribed plates.

Evangeline, accompanied by Damon and Leona, entered a fortified building to signify their arrival. They were granted a five-hour respite before resuming their assignments.

Naturally, Damon understood this was no true period of rest. It was merely allocated time for them to acclimate themselves to the war headquarters.

Damon did precisely that. He traversed the burgeoning fortress, observing the diverse structures under construction, and with each observation, a sense of unease grew within him.

Metals resistant to fire and magic were being smelted into innumerable projectiles. The walls and edifices were layered with fire-and magic-resistant runes. Water, cooling, and ice runes were meticulously etched into both stone and metal.

Clearly, preparations were underway for an entity that commanded fire and destruction.

Damon noticed several magical airships bearing the insignia of Lazarak. These were unequivocally crafted by his organization.

There were eight such airships, representing the pinnacle of technology, constructed in a manner akin to Lysithara's but imbued with elements of Valtheron magical engineering within their frameworks.

A plan began to coalesce in Damon's mind.

All these implements were evidently designed to repel Ashergon. However, for Damon's intended purpose, Ashergon was far too powerful and swift to be overcome under conventional circumstances. He required the dragon's speed to be significantly curtailed.

He needed Ashergon to be in a state of aggressive offense.

And a distinct shadow was essential.

This was precisely why he required Evangeline. Yet, Damon could not bear to place her in peril. He could not fathom enduring the loss of her to a dragon's maw.

Thus, Damon set to work.

The reality was that he needed to establish the ultimate kill zone, and to achieve this, he was prepared to utilize all these military structures as mere bait. By a conservative estimate, several hundred thousand to a million lives might be lost, but he could perceive no alternative.

They would perish regardless.

After three days at the war headquarters, Damon had successfully completed half of his elaborate trap.

He surmised he had a few more days before Ashergon made its appearance.

Just as these thoughts occupied him, while he was maneuvering a colossal chain and securing it to a ballista, he heard the sky rumble far beyond the mana anomaly.

He lifted his gaze towards a distant region where the mana anomaly known as the Severing Wind raged, and perceived a distortion in the very air.

The Severing Wind was peculiar in that it was not perpetually active. Contingent upon the fluctuations in mana frequencies, passage through it could be temporarily safe. However, most of the time, it would reduce a human body to mere ribbons before disintegrating into a mist of blood. It was such dire natural phenomena that rendered the world of Aetherus so terrifying.

And today, Damon discerned a vast shadow in the distance.

His scalp prickled, yet he did not succumb to panic. The mana anomaly was at its zenith, fragmenting even space itself into gossamer-thin, invisible strands.

Then, Damon witnessed something that evoked the primal fear of the divine.

The colossal wings of a dragon unfurled like a tempest in the sky, displacing clouds and distorting the very weather. Those wings brushed against the mana anomaly.

And in that instant, the world felt as though it had fractured.

A massive portion of the anomaly was torn away and hurled towards them from the heavens, as if it were a tangible object. Like a mere pebble a child might pluck from the roadside and toss with casual abandon. That was the sensation, witnessing such a potent natural force treated with such nonchalance.

But to Damon and the countless others below, like insignificant ants, it felt as though a god had descended.

And he had dispatched a devil, wreathed in inferno, to exact punishment for their transgressions.

One knight collapsed to his knees, murmuring in sheer dread.

"Goddess."

Damon had no intention of remaining to be eviscerated by invisible magical winds imperceptible to the naked eye.

He raised his hand, and innumerable shadows surged around him. His skill, Shadow Manifesting, was pushed to its absolute limits. Countless unseen wind blades condensed into a single, monumental shard of oblivion, hurtling downwards towards them, and Damon countered with every shadow he could muster.

"Domain. Dominion of Shadows."

As Damon uttered these words, an endless proliferation of shadows birthed from those he had accumulated. They permeated the world with an inky blackness, rising like an overwhelming tide. Their surroundings were utterly engulfed by a dominion of despotic shadows. Each shadow pulsed with Damon’s indomitable will.

The silence was absolute, yet none dared to defy that potent will.

An overwhelming presence permeated the area, compelling submission, a will bent on domination. Yet, beneath this power, a peculiar stillness offered a profound sense of peace. It was as though a hellish shadow had enveloped the entire war headquarters.

These shadows ascended towards the heavens. Everything in their path was met with a choice: submit or be consumed.

The sky emitted a deafening shriek as the shadows collided with sharp winds.

The Severing Winds performed their intended function. They severed, or at the very least, they made an attempt.

However, the shadows met this assault directly.

Upon their collision, innumerable fragments of shadow and wind dispersed into the atmosphere, raining down in all directions. But the earth itself was shadow, and under this dominion, the Severing Winds were drawn into the shadows' embrace, vanishing into unknown realms.

The colossal fragment of the Severing Wind fractured and was likewise pulled into the shadows.

At that precise moment, those within the domain perceived the shift.

The shadows had acquired a characteristic of severance.

Blood trickled from Damon’s nose and ears. He staggered, finding it difficult to draw breath, yet he could sense it.

His domain possessed a keener edge than before.

Nevertheless, he could not afford to celebrate.

The heavens commenced to hum with a deep, resonant drone.

Except, it was not a drone.

It was a voice.

The voice of Ashergon.

"Death and fire. I am fire. I am death."