My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 859 - 860: Experienced With Selfishness

Damon had no idea when she had arrived; the area had been completely deserted until now.

For the past few days, his party had been tracking Abellona with the intention of meeting her. Unlike Xander, however, Damon and the others didn't share a personal history with her. She was, after all, the Princess of the Empire.

In the end, Xander had dispatched a formal invitation bearing all their names. The goal was to ask her to join their ranks or, at the very least, negotiate a mutual agreement.

Damon simply hadn't anticipated her arrival, let alone that she would corner him in such a manner.

The hand resting on his shoulder felt soft, and her scent was hauntingly familiar.

They were entirely alone on the balcony. Just the two of them.

She leaned in toward him, closing the distance.

"My, a love letter..." she whispered. "I never took you for the romantic type."

A weary, strained smile crossed Damon’s face as he forced a reaction.

He raised the paper slightly, his eyes falling on the three words he had penned.

I love you.

These words were intended for his sister.

However, Abellona had already seen them, and she clearly had no intention of departing yet.

Since there were no extra chairs, she opted to sit on the edge of the table, positioned far too close to him. Her presence blocked his surroundings, making him tilt his head up to lock eyes with her crimson gaze.

"I don’t believe in romance," Damon replied in a quiet, steady voice. "Or... I didn’t. But if we assume it exists..."

His tone remained low and composed.

Abellona stared at him intensely, her gaze never wavering.

"After you had your way with me, Damian, you’d better start believing in romance."

A faint chuckle escaped Damon’s lips.

Right. That was the name.

It was the alias he had given her during their battle against Ashcroft. He had used it to ensure she couldn't track him down later, especially since he had touched her in ways a princess would never overlook, seeing parts of her that should have remained hidden.

She wasn't about to let that incident go.

Normally, he would have offered a shameless retort.

But this time, Damon chose silence.

As he worked on this letter, the reality of his impending death felt increasingly tangible. It was no longer a distant concept or a theoretical possibility.

It was right here.

He could see the end clearly now.

And that was why he finally understood the situation. The expansion of the cult was no longer the primary objective; it was merely collateral momentum.

This was what mattered.

Damon wasn't fueling the fires of hatred for the sake of victory anymore.

He was letting the world burn simply because he wouldn't be around to witness the ruins.

That realization was more chilling than any ambition. It was resignation, forged into a weapon.

This was the state of a man with nothing left to lose.

For some reason, that epiphany stirred a faint sense of melancholy deep within him.

Abellona observed him for a long moment before letting out a sigh.

"You know... after you stole my ring and my dignity, and tried to fake your own death—among many other things—I told myself that if I ever caught you, I would make you suffer. I expected you to try and talk your way out of it."

She looked down, her expression softening slightly.

"I still remember the man who stood arrogantly before Ashcroft, the Demon Lord of Domination. That man was fearless. He told me many things—most of them lies—but in the moments he was sincere... he actually moved me."

Her hand clenched into a small fist.

"He was the one who convinced me I could be something more than just Abellona of Destruction."

Damon offered a weak smile.

"I’m glad I could be of service."

Her grip tightened further.

"He also got me to agree to pay him billions of zeni," she remarked flatly. "And a man who loves money that much would never forget to come and collect."

Damon simply shook his head.

That’s right.

She still owed him a fortune.

It didn't matter now.

Money was useless where he was headed.

Raising his chin with a finger, she forced him to look at her. Her red eyes pierced into his dark ones.

"I’ve spent the majority of my life on battlefields," she said. "I recognize the look on a soldier's face when they stop caring—when their passion vanishes and the fire in their heart dies out."

She glanced toward the paper on the table.

"Some of them write letters to their families, imagining that a few words on paper can excuse their selfishness. It doesn't. It never works."

Her features tightened with emotion.

"All those letters become are violent reminders of the person they used to be."

She struggled to keep her hands steady, despite their visible trembling.

"You aren’t the first person with a death wish I’ve encountered, and you won’t be the last. But..."

Her voice cracked with a hint of pain.

"Now that it’s happening to someone I actually care for... it hurts significantly more than watching comrades I’ve fought alongside give up and waste away."

Damon felt a flicker of conflict at her frustration.

He had seen that exact look before on Lilith’s face.

"I never truly believed in the point of living," Damon said softly. "None of us asked to be born. We are forced into this world against our will. Some of us just have a harder time than others."

He turned his gaze back to her.

"And honestly... it’s exhausting."

He let out a slow, heavy breath.

"If you came here to tell me to keep living because the world is beautiful or some other nonsense, you’re wasting your breath. I’m not dying because I’m afraid to live."

His eyes turned cold and hard.

"This is my way of showing my middle finger to the divine. To fate itself. You might think it’s pathetic, but for me, this is my final scream against the ultimate oppressors."

She bit her lip, trembling.

"You’re insane."

He shook his head slowly.

"No. I was just never sane to begin with."

His resolve was absolute. No amount of pleading would sway him.

Seeing this, she changed her tactic.

"How cowardly," she spat out. "So you’re just tapping out because you’re afraid of losing. You’re too scared to finish the game you started because the odds look bad."

Damon’s brow furrowed.

That comment stung.

She looked down at him with disdain.

"If you die now, you won’t be escaping your responsibilities. You’ll just be dumping them onto weaker hands."

She crossed her arms defiantly.

"You’re running away and leaving your mess for others to clean up. How noble of you. You must be an expert at running away."

Damon’s expression hardened.

She had touched a raw nerve.

Did she truly believe anyone could triumph over the Unknown God?

It was impossible. That entity wasn't designed to lose; it wrote the laws of reality and could rewrite them at will.

This wasn’t a defeat.

It was an act of defiance.

Abellona stood up.

"Since you’re dying, I suppose there’s no point in continuing where we left off. I actually thought we might have a future together."

Her voice became as cold as ice.

"Good luck. I hope your death is less painful—actually, no. I hope you suffer a slow, agonizing end."

She turned to walk away.

"Oh, wait. I need to take one thing before I go."

Damon turned to look—

And she lunged at him.

She kissed him with a fierce intensity.

Then, she pulled back.

"I’m not even done with you yet," she said chillingly. "But if you somehow survive, I’ll get my revenge."

She vanished into the night.

Damon closed his eyes.

A single, unyielding thought crossed his mind.

He tightened his grip on the letter—

And watched as it crumbled into ash.