My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 1048 - 1050: To Fear Tomorrow

A gentle breeze stirred, rustling Damon’s cape and playfully tousling his hair. His hands found the familiar grip of his sword's hilt as the sun's warmth bathed his countenance.

He appeared lost in thought, a figure detached, as if gazing upon the mortal realm from a celestial vantage point.

Medals were proudly displayed upon his chest, and an aura of profound mystery enveloped him.

Then, he lifted a hand.

"Silence," he commanded.

"Um, no one was actually speaking," Evangeline replied, pressing her fingers to her temple as Damon continued his theatrical pose before the assembled onlookers.

This was his farewell ceremony, marking the official declaration of his triumph over the formidable dragon, Ashergon.

True to form, Damon was ostentatiously attired and positioned several steps above the rest, surveying them with an air of dramatic significance.

Evangeline offered a silent plea for him to forgo a speech, convinced he would indulge in self-aggrandizement, fixing everyone with a gaze of blatant condescension.

Fortunately for her, Damon’s eagerness to reunite with his daughter overshadowed any desire for a lengthy address. He uttered only a few cryptic words, gave his cape a flourish, and turned to depart.

Behind him, an airship had already touched down, poised to convey him homeward.

The conflict on the front lines had undergone a transformation. With Ashergon vanquished, the hostilities were now concentrated solely within the forest.

This shift was not universally welcomed.

News of Damon's success reportedly caused the elf king Kadelas to faint. He remained unconscious, his sleep disturbed by mutters and curses.

Evidently, he dreaded the reality of being compelled to offer his daughter's hand to Damon willingly.

Evangeline harbored different anxieties. The persistent conflict among outsiders raged within the city of Lysithara, its tremors occasionally felt in the distance and its skies illuminated by unfamiliar and astonishing displays of magic.

She did not comprehend Damon's reasons for leaving, yet she made no attempt to dissuade him, sensing an important undertaking awaited him.

Damon, however, completely misinterpreted her expression.

He firmly believed she wore the look reserved for a hero embarking on a perilous quest.

That was not his intention.

His immediate goal was to remain inconspicuous for a period.

Certainly, he was also contemplating the creation of a weapon capable of dispatching a phoenix, though this objective seemed of secondary importance to him.

"Corruption and decay," Damon murmured under his breath.

A phoenix, by its very nature, was a being of purity, or so the ancient wizard Orbitus had suggested. This inherent purity, paradoxically, enabled it to kill Wendy, who was invulnerable to those deemed impure.

Damon remained uncertain about the extent to which this factored into the Unknown God's grand design, yet he wouldn't dismiss the possibility.

After all, discerning the boundary between destiny and the Unknown God's subtle influence was a formidable challenge.

Coincidences were nonexistent in this world; Damon had gleaned this truth from observing the unfolding life of Mugu.

However, he still lacked vital information. He required the clue that would unveil the location of the Pillar of Conflict.

The instant that location was revealed, every player on the grand chessboard would initiate their move.

He was confident that the Goddess of Doom awaited patiently, strategically cautious, preparing to secure victory with a single, decisive action.

But could she truly surpass the guile of a demon like the Unknown?

The demon god had redefined the very essence of cunning machinations.

Damon had never experienced such profound paranoia.

A small fragment of his being had already begun to yield to the inevitable. A nascent seed of quiet despair had taken root in his heart, whispering that escape from the vast, unseen dominion of the Unknown God was utterly impossible.

The airship ascended into the celestial expanse, his gaze remaining fixed upon Evangeline and Leona, still standing on the battlefield below.

All Damon desired now was to be by his daughter's side, witness her growth, nurture his own Cultivation, train Iris and Luna, and fortify his forces for the inevitable confrontation he foresaw.

For he was convinced that the end loomed just beyond the immediate horizon.

This cherished tranquility was merely the ephemeral calm before the tempest.

Clouds meandered idly across the heavens, indifferent and oblivious.

He felt a pang of envy.

The landscape blurred rapidly beneath the airship, and Damon eventually settled into the opulent seat within.

"I have gained so much. I have gained so much that I stand to lose."

He was certain that only despair awaited him in the future.

Much like Mugu, he had been granted a glimmer of hope, only to have it cruelly extinguished.

Similar to Ashcroft, who had stood on the precipice of his ultimate triumph only to suffer defeat.

Now, Damon's time had come.

He would face betrayal from someone he held dear.

Initially, he could narrow down the possibilities.

Now, his heart had grown to encompass too many cherished individuals.

The potential list had expanded to a perilous degree.

It could be anyone.

Before long, the airship arrived at the Brightwater family's citadel. His aunt awaited his arrival, cradling the infant Ranar in her arms.

That evening, a celebratory feast marked his homecoming.

The following day, Damon stood before a tomb, gently placing a small flower upon it.

This was Wendy’s final resting place.

He had retrieved her remains from his shadow storage, performed rites of purification, and offered proper prayers before her interment.

A small gathering was all that was present. Damon had no desire for an elaborate ceremony.

Three years had passed since she departed this world.

Yet, her final resting place was only being prepared today.

The infant cradled in his arms tugged at his hair, giggling, completely oblivious to the solemnity of her mother's burial. This child would never know her mother's embrace.

She was now motherless.

However, not an orphan.

Family remained.

Damon vowed that his daughter would never want for anything. For Ranar, he would sacrifice all.

With a subtle gesture, he whispered,

"Stop time."

Nothing occurred.

It had not been anticipated to work.

It was merely a phrase Waton of Valtheron often uttered. Waton had been Wendy's inaugural companion.

Damon desperately wished that time might halt in this very moment.

For he had come to dread what lay ahead.

Indeed, the future remained veiled in mystery, and the dread of the unknown represented the most ancient of fears.