My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 3 The Viscous Entity

As the final glimmers of daylight vanished, the woods grew increasingly gloomy. Damon sprinted through the undergrowth, his breath rattling in his chest as he searched the darkness for a hiding spot. The forest echoed with the shouts of his pursuers, their voices dripping with cruel intent.

He recognized Marcus’s voice, which was filled with sadistic glee as he goaded the others. Even more terrifying was the sound of Lark’s snarls, still strained from the desperate blow Damon had landed on his groin earlier.

‘If they catch me… it’s over. I’m dead.’

Damon forced his exhausted legs deeper into the thicket. He tripped over a gnarled root and slammed into the earth, his face hitting the dirt. Every bone in his body throbbed with agony. His eyes were red from crying, and his palms—already shredded from brutal training—stung as he pushed himself back up. Though his body was a map of bruises and exhaustion, he knew he couldn't stop moving.

Running away was the only skill he had ever mastered. If that was his only talent, he would pour every remaining ounce of strength into it.

Taking a ragged, trembling breath, he ducked beneath low-hanging limbs and continued his flight, his vision beginning to haze from fatigue. He eventually paused, leaning his weight against a tree trunk to recover.

"I think... I lost them... phew."

A sigh of relief escaped him, but the moment his adrenaline dipped, a wave of intense pain made him gasp.

He tried to stand straight, intending to sneak back toward the academy to find a healer. Suddenly, a sharp icicle whistled through the air, grazing his cheek. Startled, he looked up to see Marcus and the rest of the group closing the distance.

"There he is! Don't let him get away!"

Marcus’s command pierced the air. Damon didn't waste a second; he turned and bolted further into the gloom.

"Keep your eyes on him! The rat is good at hiding!" someone yelled from the group.

"Grey! Give up now, or it'll be worse for you later!"

Damon’s mind was a whirlwind of terror, but there was no going back now. If he was going to be caught, he’d make them struggle for it. He crashed through the foliage, heading straight toward the ominous boundary that marked the limit of the academy’s protective enchantments.

One of the boys slowed down, glancing nervously at the edge of the woods.

"He’s heading for the barrier..."

Marcus’s expression darkened with irritation.

"Grey, stop this instant and I might let you live! If you cross that line, the monsters will finish you before we do!"

Damon’s heart hammered against his ribs. He knew the risks. The barrier was the only thing holding back the lethal creatures that students were only permitted to face under strict supervision. Despite the danger, he preferred the teeth of a monster over the "mercy" of Marcus and his gang.

He ducked under a branch and surged forward. He didn't realize how close the edge was until the air began to shimmer with a faint distortion. He hesitated for a heartbeat, but Lark’s enraged screaming from behind reminded him of the pain waiting for him.

Without looking back, Damon dove through the barrier.

Passing through felt like plunging into a wall of freezing water. He stumbled but quickly found his rhythm again. Behind him, the group skidded to a halt at the shimmering line. They wavered until Lark, consumed by a mindless rage, let out a roar and charged through after him.

"Damon! You're a dead man!"

"You idiot!" Marcus cursed. However, his arrogance wouldn't allow Damon to escape so easily.

With a growl of frustration, Marcus followed, and the rest of the lackeys fell into line behind him.

Damon’s pulse thrashed in his ears as the sounds of pursuit continued. His lungs felt like they were on fire. He vaguely remembered warnings about this part of the forest—territory where only professors were allowed—but pure instinct kept his legs moving.

His stamina finally gave out. He skidded to a halt, nearly tumbling over a sharp drop-off. A deep ravine stretched out before him, dropping fourteen meters into a churning river hidden in the dark. He turned to find another way, but his tormentors had already arrived.

"You little bastard... I'm going to kill you!"

Lark’s voice preceded a heavy fist that slammed into Damon’s jaw. The force sent him hitting the ground, dangerously near the edge of the chasm.

Damon barely had time to react before Lark began a barrage of kicks. Each strike was delivered with unrestrained malice. A sudden blade of wind magic sliced through the air, carving into his skin and sending blood trickling down his face.

He coughed, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. His head spun as Lark’s relentless beating left him gasping for air.

"That's enough for now, Lark," Marcus interrupted, his tone cold and bored.

Panting with rage, Lark stepped back. Marcus walked over to where Damon lay. The boy was barely conscious, his vision a blur of colors. Marcus reached down, grabbed a handful of Damon’s hair, and yanked his head up to force eye contact.

"Beg for it, Grey," Marcus sneered, a sadistic grin stretching across his face.

"Beg, and I'll make it stop."

Through a haze of blood and pain, Damon pulled his lips back into a defiant smirk, his teeth stained crimson.

"Go... screw yourself."

Marcus’s face twisted into a mask of fury.

"Beat him until he begs for death," he hissed.

The group closed in once more, their fists ready.

The boys took turns, laughing as they treated Damon like a punching bag, ignoring his muffled groans of agony. Lark, driven by a special kind of cruelty, brought his boot down hard on Damon’s leg. A sickening crack echoed through the ravine as the bone snapped.

Damon let out a piercing scream that was quickly drowned out by their mocking laughter.

After several minutes of brutalization, Marcus finally held up a hand to stop them. Lark, however, refused to quit, pressing his foot harder into the broken limb with burning eyes.

Marcus stepped in, shoving Lark away.

"I said that’s enough!" he barked.

Marcus knelt down again, gripping Damon’s hair to force the blood-streaked face upward.

"You know, Grey, I've always despised you," Marcus whispered venomously.

"But what I hate most is your damn pride. Someone as pathetic as you should be groveling. Instead, you walk around like you're someone important. You look your betters in the eye... you have zero respect."

With a violent shove, Marcus slammed Damon’s head into the dirt. Damon groaned, blood matting his hair as Marcus stood up and looked down with pure disgust.

Damon struggled to prop himself up, swaying dangerously as he looked at the faces of Marcus, Lark, and Isaac. With a glare of pure defiance, he spat a broken tooth onto the ground and rasped out,

"You bastards... rot in hell."

Marcus moved to strike again, but Lark was faster. With a flick of his wrist, he unleashed a powerful blast of wind magic. The impact sent Damon flying backward, disappearing into the dark, yawning abyss of the ravine.

Marcus’s eyes widened as he watched the boy fall.

"What... what did you do? You just killed him!"

He ran to the ledge, staring into the impenetrable darkness, but the pit was too deep. The shadows had swallowed Damon whole. Marcus began to panic, clutching his head as his jaw tightened.

"Damn it... we have to get out of here. If anyone asks, we never left the academy."

Lark was still shaking with lingering rage, but the others were already retreating, gripped by fear. Marcus looked back one last time, his voice urgent.

"Move! Now!"

They vanished into the night, leaving Damon to his fate.

The fall wasn't bottomless, but Damon’s body battered against the rocky slope as he tumbled down. He hit the base with a sickening thud, his ribs cracking upon impact. He groaned, his consciousness flickering like a dying candle. Looking up, he could see the moon through the canopy, its dim light feeling cold and haunting.

He could hear the distant, fading voices of the boys as they fled the scene.

‘Wait... no... don't leave me...’ he thought in a panic. But the words wouldn't come. His throat was choked with blood, and he was too weak to make a sound.

As the forest fell silent, a strange rustling sound emerged from the nearby shadows. Damon’s heart raced, fear cutting through his physical agony.

He was beyond the barrier; this was where monsters lived. Even if he wasn't far from the academy, he was completely defenseless.

His eyes stretched wide with terror as he scanned the pit. In the darkness, something moved—a thick, inky mass of blackness was slithering toward him. It seemed to be part of the shadows themselves. The creature was a formless, slime-like entity that moved with a terrifying, fluid grace.

Damon shook with primal dread as the creature drew closer. He tried to scream for help, but only a wet, gurgling sound left his throat.

‘No... please... someone... help me...’

The entity loomed over him, silent and predatory. His mind screamed for mercy, but his body was paralyzed by fear as the thing inched toward him.

Under the ghostly moonlight, the creature stopped directly above his chest. Suddenly, it dove downward, sinking into his shadow and merging with the darkness beneath him. A wave of excruciating pain flooded his body as the entity began to seep into his very being, but he lacked the strength to even cry out.

He felt the thing burrowing into his essence, a writhing void settling into his soul. Tears tracked through the blood on his face as he lay there, broken.

‘Is this it... am I dying in a ditch...’

The agony was too much. His mind began to fade as he held onto one last memory.

"I'm... sorry... Luna..."

The words were nothing more than a faint, pained whisper.

As the creature merged deeper into his spirit, his consciousness began to blur and sink into the dark. Just as the last of the entity vanished into his shadow, a profound exhaustion took hold.

However, in that final moment of clarity, a vow ignited within him, fueled by a reservoir of pure hatred and resentment.

‘If... if I get another chance... I’ll make them suffer.’

As his awareness finally flickered out, a sharp, metallic sound echoed in his mind.

[Ding]

[System initialization has begun.]