My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 874 - 875: Battle Of Gods

Damon understood the situation perfectly.

He was completely outmatched, and he accepted that reality. Not even he possessed the strength to leap across several ranks to challenge a literal god.

As one progressed through class advancements, the disparity between ranks ceased to be a mere gap; it became an absolute wall. Power no longer grew in a straight line but began to spike with violent intensity. That chasm made any hope of victory impossible.

A third class would never be able to defeat a seventh class.

That was a fundamental law woven into the fabric of the universe.

However, Damon didn't need to do it.

Lazarak was capable of such a feat.

And by the looks of things, Lazarak had arrived in a state of pure fury.

This was the god who loathed the world’s endless, pointless cycles of war. He was the one who had staged a solitary rebellion and nearly won, all without taking the life of a single mortal or deity.

Now, he stood face-to-face with another god once again.

When Lazarak yanked on the chains of Seraph Null, the very atmosphere let out a scream.

An astral wind exploded outward as the gargantuan god was ripped from the heavens and driven into the dirt. The force of the impact caused the earth to shatter like glass. Nearby buildings buckled and collapsed, turning into piles of debris in a heartbeat.

The Chained watched on in a stunned daze as their deity was manhandled from the very start of the encounter.

"Hehh... huah... bahha..."

Despite the brutality, Seraph Null began to laugh.

"How pathetic you are, Lazarak. You speak so much of showing me my limitations, yet you stood by and watched thousands perish. That is exactly why you are a failure."

Lazarak recognized that the god was merely trying to shake his resolve before the true conflict began.

He remained perfectly still within the massive crater that Damon’s previous strike had carved into the cityscape.

"If you are talking about the civilians of this district," Lazarak replied with a calm voice, "then I must disappoint you. I used teleportation to move them away before I showed myself. Take a look around you, Prison God."

The wings of Seraph Null shifted as his gaze swept across the city.

Something was undeniably wrong.

There were no women to be found. No children were present. No elderly or wounded remained, and every civilian incapable of combat was gone.

Only those who lived by the blade were left behind.

"You evacuated everyone..."

Seraph Null whispered, his voice resonating through the heavens.

A faint smile touched Lazarak’s lips.

"I know my friend well enough to foresee that he would cause a massive disturbance. He does possess a certain flair for the dramatic."

The chains that formed the body of Seraph Null ground against each other, pulsing with rage.

Lazarak turned his head slightly toward his companion.

"Damon. I will handle him. You take care of the rest."

Damon began to open his mouth to argue, but the look on Lazarak’s face silenced him. Darkness swirled around Lazarak’s silhouette like a set of living robes.

"Allow me to show you," Lazarak whispered softly, "the true power of a god."

He opened his arms wide and slowly lifted them toward the sky.

Something began to rise over the horizon.

No. It wasn't just 'something.'

It was Darkness.

It billowed upward from every direction, consuming the heavens as it ascended. When it reached the sun, the entire world was plunged into shadow. The daylight collapsed into a sudden eclipse.

Even though the sun had been close to setting, night fell in an instant.

Seraph Null let out a roar and lunged toward the sky, soaring higher and higher. His wings beat against the air, kicking up dust storms that stretched for miles.

"I am the god of this domain, Lazarak," he boomed. "My word is the law. By my command, it is day!"

These were not the words of a boastful fool.

Reality itself obeyed his whim.

The eclipsed sun vanished, only to reappear at the horizon and surge to its peak, blazing with light. Its radiance burned through the suffocating darkness.

Lazarak’s brow furrowed slightly. A thin trail of blood began to leak from his nose, yet he did not waver.

Faith provided Lazarak with strength, even if he was currently far from his peak power.

The chains began to rattle with violence.

"My followers," Seraph Null proclaimed, "these heretics give strength to a traitor god who dares defy our creator, the Goddess of Doom. Destroy them. Strip away his stolen power. Slaughter every last one of them!"

The moment of awe was broken.

Damon raised his hand, instantly incinerating the closest Chained Knight where it stood.

"Move toward the Black Tower," he ordered. "Tear down his seat of power!"

His command rang out across the battlefield. Lifting his charm, he spoke again, ensuring his words reached every corner of the city.

"Advance to the Black Tower!"

The sky erupted in violent flashes as darkness collided with the massive, chain-bound angelic entity. Clouds were ripped to shreds. The winds howled.

"Carve a path to the Black Tower," Damon bellowed. "Show this creature of the lower realm the true strength of the children of Aetherus!"

Cries of war filled the air.

Magic exploded and steel clashed against steel. The city was swallowed by the tide of war.

Anyone who wasn't an ally was the enemy. That was the only reality that mattered now.

Abellona plunged her spear through the skull of a Chained Knight, her crimson eyes glowing with intensity. Blood sprayed across the pavement as warriors leaped between rooftops in superhuman displays of combat.

The high heavens belonged to the gods.

The streets and the lower sky belonged to the mortals.

Leona triggered her Sovereign Mantle, lightning sparking from her skin as she moved in a series of blinding teleports. Her blade cut through the air in arcs of ruin, leaving nothing but charred remains behind her.

At her side, Wendy tore through the opposition with her bone sword, shattering and dismembering Chained Knights until the path was paved with broken bodies.

Damon ground his teeth together.

"The Black Tower. I must get to the Black Tower."

The streets were a scene of pure bedlam. Blood ran in rivers. Buildings toppled over like rows of dominoes. The air grew thick with the stench of decay, smoke, and scorched meat.

He dove to the side as a corpse, skewered by jagged metal spikes, crashed into the earth with eyes wide in a final look of terror.

Damon vanished into the shadows, flickering between narrow alleys and high rooftops, slaughtering anything that tried to obstruct his path.

In a nearby alley, rows of skeletons formed a defensive line as the demon necromancer Kashi fought alongside a young elf from the Silver Glades. Ancient rivalries were cast aside in the desperate struggle for survival.

Damon sprinted toward a broad thoroughfare.

When he arrived, he saw nothing but a mountain of corpses.

In the center of the road, perched atop a pile of the freshly slain, stood a man holding a parasol.

"Ah," the man remarked in a pleasant tone. "I have been searching for you. We have a few debts to settle."

It was the Wind Apostle.

Before Damon could even think to reply, a pillar of golden light descended to his side.

Evangeline appeared, clad in her Duskglass armor with her Sovereign Mantle fully active.

"That's funny," she said with a cold edge to her voice. "I was just about to say the same thing to you."

Damon looked at her with a frown.

She simply shook her head at him.

"Go. This one belongs to me."

"He is a fourth class," Damon reminded her under his breath.

She stepped toward the enemy, her sword dropping into a lethal combat stance.

"Good," she replied. "That just makes him a target worth killing."

Damon tightened his jaw.