My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 852 - 853: Shockwave

Damon remained unaware of the entity he had unchained, or that a fragment of Ittorath had slipped into this world alongside them. Perhaps every event unfolding was merely a thread in the Unknown God’s grand design.

Regardless of the cosmic implications, the reality was simple: his scheme had succeeded perfectly.

The data Damon received was grim. Ten million lives had been extinguished, while several million more suffered from severe wounds. The displacement was equally catastrophic, with seven million left without homes and another sixteen million forced to flee as internal refugees.

The scale of the carnage was breathtaking.

Despite the mountain of corpses, Damon—shielded within the inner city—did not witness a single body. To him, the tragedy was merely a statistical summary. Millions of lives had been distilled into ink and paper.

He was spared the sight of the dead. He never heard their dying wails or their desperate pleas for mercy. Instead, he sat in the comfort of his luxurious residence, reviewing a report.

In his youth, Damon had loathed the nobility for their detachment, yet he was now behaving exactly like the aristocrats he once despised.

However, Damon justified these actions as a necessity. He believed that the path to true freedom required a violent struggle.

From his current vantage point, even the billowing smoke and rising ash were invisible; the city’s sheer scale meant the devastation in the outer districts was beyond the horizon.

Yet, two significant objectives had been achieved.

The first was blatant. The resentment simmering within the Grinding Gate had boiled over, and that fury had birthed a spirit of rebellion. He had demonstrated to the masses that no one was safe from the current regime.

As despair took root, the people instinctively reached for a lifeline. When hopelessness becomes absolute, humanity turns to faith and the divine.

Consequently, the religion Damon had established began to flourish.

He provided them with a different path—a vision of a world without tyrants and a method to strike back at their oppressors.

Throughout the city, the cult of Lazarak was attracting converts at a frantic pace. Beneath the surface of the social unrest, a deep-seated hatred for the chained knights and the deity Seraph Null was festering.

But there was more...

Damon allowed a smirk to surface as he crossed his arms.

His newly acquired shadow maw was feasting.

The massacre at the Grinding Gate had provided a surplus of remains.

Since rotting bodies were a breeding ground for disease, the cult Damon founded offered "assistance" in disposing of the dead. These corpses were fed directly to the Maw, accelerating the Vor’Thal’s evolution toward its mature form.

He inhaled deeply, centering himself.

"If the gods are imperfect, if faith is a lie, and if hope only breeds monsters... then what is left?"

Damon voiced the question to the empty air.

The solution was elementary and undeniable.

"It is choice."

Everything centered on the power of the will.

If the gods were fallible, then it fell upon humanity to construct its own heaven.

We are defined by our decisions, and those decisions mold our reality. Divine intervention is not required for us to choose our path.

This philosophy was a core tenet held by the Unknown God.

Choice was the ultimate truth.

And if the power of choice truly rested with the individual, then the divine could not be blamed for the outcome.

"Damon, why are you just standing there? Let’s move."

Evangeline’s voice echoed from the doorway. Ignorant of Damon’s inner machinations, she only saw him as being idle.

"Hurry up. We’ve located Leona, haven’t we?"

With a slow nod, Damon followed her out into the world.

Dressed in an elegant gown with her golden hair shimmering under the sunlight, she looked every bit the high-born lady.

Noticing Damon’s distracted expression, Evangeline gave him a playful nudge with her elbow.

"What is bothering you?"

He looked up at her.

Bothered? That wasn't it.

"Do I look like something is wrong?"

She nodded, her smile softening.

"You do, actually. I haven't seen you this moody since our academy days."

Damon rubbed the bridge of his nose, recalling those cringeworthy years.

He let out a tired sigh.

"Eva... if you were in a position where saving a million people meant the certain death of a hundred others, what would you choose?"

She fell silent for a moment, processing the weight of the question.

Finally, she shook her head.

"I don't know. People shouldn't be treated as numbers on a ledger. Why is the life of a million inherently worth more than a hundred? It isn't a sacrifice if you are murdering those hundred people against their will."

He bit his lip, contemplating her words.

"Then what is the solution?"

She shook her head again.

"Executing justice is a heavy burden, and I am merely a mortal. I don't have the answer. But my desire would be to save every person I possibly could."

Damon’s gaze sharpened.

"Then would you permit death to claim everyone equally—rich, poor, regardless of their race or beliefs?"

She recoiled slightly.

"You are describing genocide."

She looked down at her palms.

"Justice is vital to me, but justice stripped of humanity is nothing but cruelty."

"If I am forced to answer, I would say that because I am human, I will choose the most humane path."

Damon’s fist tightened at her response.

She had emphasized that she would make a choice.

A choice always existed. That was the recurring theme.

Damon had spent countless hours meditating on the nature of choice, hoping to grasp the philosophy of the Unknown God. Yet, the deeper he delved, the more convoluted the concept became.

Perhaps that complexity was exactly why the Unknown God remained such an enigma. He was, after all, the deity of choice.

Evangeline remained quiet as they navigated toward the location where Leona had been spotted. Sure enough, the residence bore the unmistakable mark of its owner.

A sign was posted clearly on the door.

Leona’s territory. Enter only if you want a broken jaw.

Damon and Evangeline exchanged a knowing look.

"Well, at least we can be certain it isn’t an ambush," she remarked.

He gave a measured knock. Almost instantly, the door flew open with violent force, and a figure lunged into his arms.

"I knew it! I knew it was you! I caught your scent... hehehe!"

Leona’s spirited voice rang out as she nearly squeezed the breath out of him.

Damon returned the embrace.

"Yeah, I missed you too, bestie. To be honest, I’ve had a rough time."

He shot a glance at Evangeline, feigning distress.

"I was even sexually harassed by Evangeline in public, and the crowd just stood there and watched her take advantage of me."

Leona gasped, covering her mouth in mock horror.

"No way! She finally let her inner predator out!"

Evangeline closed her eyes, her brow twitching as she fought to suppress her irritation.

'I am going to murder both of them...'