My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 864 - 865: Wisp In The Metaverse

Through the divine mercy and unique grace of the goddess, Damon had somehow navigated his way out of that predicament.

By some miracle.

He now sat in the middle of a strategic briefing. To be more precise, it was a high-level summit attended by representatives of the goddess races.

Their objective was to deliberate on their future course of action. While Damon might have normally exercised more discretion, he was certain that Seraph Null was already aware of their movements. The lesser god likely wanted them all in one location, waiting for their insurrection to spark so he could annihilate them in a single blow.

Absolute confidence, after all, was a natural byproduct of possessing absolute power.

Because of this, Damon felt no pressure regarding the secret of their hidden ace.

As for that trump card, Lazarak’s recovery of his former strength was progressing much faster than anticipated, fueled by the cult that was diligently spreading his worship.

The assembly consisted of Damon’s own group and students from Aether Academy. Lilith, Renata, and Natch Wuta were among those present. They were joined by delegates from the Eldorian Magic Academy of the Magic Continent. Surviving members from other institutions had also gathered, including the beastkin Ishara Fang, various elves, and several figures Damon only vaguely recalled.

The hall was packed to capacity.

He saw many familiar faces.

Yet, he noticed just as many were gone.

Abellona cleared her throat, her crimson eyes scanning the expansive chamber. The individuals seated here represented the peak of power and influence within the current resistance movement.

"I appreciate everyone coming. Our agenda today is heavy, and the decisions made here may dictate our very survival," she announced.

With a slight turn of her head, projection magic was activated, casting vivid images into the air above the conference table.

Damon arched an eyebrow in surprise. The display was sophisticated. He hadn't realized they possessed a mage capable of such high-level projection magic.

He looked toward the young knight maintaining the flow of Qi and mana for the spell. She was a petite girl with a short blonde bob, her body held in a stiff, focused posture.

Abellona gestured, and the visual display shifted.

"This is the nightmare of Lazarak. I assume everyone here heard that voice upon awakening in this world’s dungeon, along with the rewards it guaranteed."

A low murmur of confirmation rippled through the room. It had been a seductive proposal, offering power that most of them could never hope to achieve through standard Cultivation.

Abellona’s hand tightened into a fist.

"The promised prize was a fourth class advancement. A guarantee that any survivor would attain it."

She bit her lip in frustration. As the leader of this summit and the empire’s princess, she was well aware of the entity behind that vow.

And she found it loathsome.

This was blatant heresy. The temple would surely demand retribution. However, the situation was complicated; it wasn't just a single heretic this time. It involved her and the heirs of the world's most prominent figures. To persecute them under that banner would be to declare war on the entire world.

Evangeline folded her arms across her chest.

"The unknown god. The one the demon races revere."

Damon mirrored her posture.

"Strictly speaking, even the demons don't truly worship him. But yes, that is the one. Personally, I never received that promise. Since I was the final person to enter that abyss, I was mostly out cold when the announcement happened."

Emilia Highgon chewed on her finger, her nerves visible.

"We don't exactly have the luxury of declining these rewards. What would the temple have us do? Commit suicide? That's absurd. I would prefer we focus on the immediate threats. There is no guarantee we will live long enough to see such a reward anyway."

Sylvia gave a slow nod, her fingers tracing the leather binding of her tome.

"Perhaps we should address the fundamental questions then. Where are we currently, and how do we return home? Preferably in one piece."

Sitting next to Emilia, Xander crossed his arms.

"Those dark entities. Do you all recall them from the ruins of Lysithara?"

He aimed the question at his teammates.

"I do," Damon answered, his tone turning grim.

Evangeline’s eyes sharpened.

"The black shadows that manifested from the Lysithara rift whenever they detected light."

A heavy silence descended upon the room.

Few present understood the true nature of Lysithara. The Path of Kings was a legendary ruin, a notorious death trap. It was a place from which no one returned.

Except for Damon and his companions.

"The servants of Ittorath," Sylvia interjected.

As she spoke the name, a strange shiver ran down her spine, as if a distant presence had momentarily focused its attention on her. She brushed it off. It was just an instinctual reaction. He wasn't there.

"Ittorath?" Abellona inquired, echoing the confusion of the crowd.

Damon let out a sigh, massing his temple as a dull ache began to throb behind his eyes.

"Ittorath is an interloper from beyond the heavens. During the First Epoch, he clashed with the Ascendants and was eventually imprisoned by Valarie and Valcara."

He leaned back, sharing his specialized knowledge.

"Ittorath is a nightmare. I don't mean that as a description; I mean it literally. He was a dream belonging to someone else that achieved physical form and gained autonomy within the metaverse. Those black creatures are nightmares."

The room went silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Sylvia took over the explanation.

"Theoretically, every person here has birthed a nightmare in the metaverse at some point through a bad dream. However, because we are insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe, our nightmares are nothing more than harmless, fleeting wisps."

Ishara Fang finally spoke up, her complexion pale.

"Then whose nightmare gave birth to Ittorath, if he is that powerful?"

Sylvia’s eyes shifted momentarily toward Lilith.

"If I were to speculate, Ittorath was a nightmare spawned by the unknown god. Perhaps just a minor fragment, but still a manifestation of his tormented subconscious."

A collective gasp filled the room.

The mere concept was bone-chilling.

"May the Goddess watch over us," a voice whispered in the dark.

"And that leads us to the primary concern," Lilith stated calmly. "The massive black entity that swallowed us was also a nightmare. As you recall, it was summoned by the unknown god. He manifested personally, using the priestess of the Snake Temple as a vessel."

No one spoke.

The memory of that presence was etched into their minds. It was beyond mere terror. Their hearts hadn't even registered fear in the traditional sense.

Fear was too noisy for a moment like that.

They had simply prayed to remain unnoticed.

Abellona exhaled deeply.

"This leaves us with a mountain of unknowns. However, it is a safe assumption that we are currently inside the body of that colossal nightmare. This world has likely merged with the dungeon gate."

She leaned forward, placing her palms flat on the table.

"The real question now is: whose nightmare are we inhabiting? And just as importantly, who is this Lazarak?"

Damon raised a hand casually.

"Oh. Right. I neglected to mention that."

A thin smile touched his lips.

"Lazarak is a friend of mine."

Every head in the room snapped toward him.