My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 890 - 891: Black Death
Previously on My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger...
"Fortune rarely favors me, yet I've grown accustomed to these minor yet deadly shifts."
Seated in a chair, a strikingly handsome man clutched a tome. His ebony complexion outshone the finest dark elves, complemented by flowing, glossy silver locks. His eyes stayed locked on the volume before him.
He delved into its pages and extracted a partially wilted bloom.
A faint grin curved his mouth.
"The gamble paid off."
Preserving Damon's life mattered, though it ranked as merely a secondary task. He managed it alongside his primary goal: the blossom bestowed upon Lilith. She had probed its traits flawlessly and delivered the specimen back with ample insights.
The Unknown God approved of this result.
"The trial to determine if intricate spells could slip past the divine framework unnoticed succeeded. I anticipated Minerva spotting my moves."
He turned the leaves of the tome in his grasp.
"What a rewarding test. Now, refinement is all that's required."
Everyone had lost recollection of the Unknown God’s true identity after Minerva, the harbinger of ruin, wiped it away. Yet that didn't leave him nameless. He recalled it himself and could share it selectively.
Lacking a precise tie to its owner, it sparked no reactions.
It mirrored the ubiquity of names like Jack. Erasing one particular Jack's identity wouldn't bar others from bearing the name.
Such was the vulnerability she exploited against him. Though he despised it, the name held a lingering bond for him.
"Her trait as the demon god's bride lets me infiltrate Doom’s realm, but unrelated deities remain beyond reach. With this, however..."
He raised the flower, watching its petals twist and reshape gradually into a seed.
A modest pot rested on the nearby table. With a gesture, he embedded the seed into the soil.
"I made a point to act boldly, but you failed to appear, Minerva..."
"I deliberately settled in your sacred territory to lure you into an ambush."
His eyes drifted to the window, where doom symbols adorned the streets.
Her holy essence permeated this entire plane.
"What delays your response, and what snares await me? Regardless, the concluding stage demands advancement."
"Hmm, to whom are you speaking?"
A feminine tone echoed from his rear. A subtle scowl crossed his face before softening into a warm grin.
At the entrance loomed a ravishing lady in a spotless white gown. Labeling her beautiful fell short; claiming her the loveliest would shame the term for its inadequacy.
"Altair, chattering to yourself once more?"
She gave a gentle shake of her head, a soft smile playing on her lips.
"My scholarly spouse proves ever so quirky."
He let out a light laugh. To evade Minerva, he had suppressed all traces of his Unknown God essence. It all served as his disguise.
"Welcome home, Mina."
She formed another layer of his facade. Upon his initial arrival, fate had intertwined their paths, leading to marriage.
In essence, she embodied the demon god's bride.
They appeared as a typical pair within Doom’s territory. The spouse enjoyed minor nobility, while the partner was a roving academic who had taken root there.
Absent their extraordinary allure, they might blend seamlessly into the crowd.
......
The ordeal had concluded, leaving the Unknown God’s intentions shrouded in mystery for all.
Yet such details held no sway.
He emerged as the supreme triumph.
As the glow dissipated, Damon beheld a well-known sight.
He stood at the heart of the war games' arena.
All survivors had returned—those who persisted, those who triumphed, those who weathered the horror and its ordeals.
Not all had emerged intact. Numerous souls lay lost.
For the remnants...
The initial victim of the nightmare sensed it first.
The summons.
The summons to fourth-class ascension.
He hadn't even attained third class. Stuck at second, he had defied fate to endure, and now this echo reached him.
The echo of a tier he deemed unattainable in his existence.
Fourth-class ascension.
The Unknown God fulfilled his vow.
Nearby, cultivators shattered limits, ascending to higher tiers.
Damon mirrored their path.
He dropped to his knees, his armor adhering to his wounded body.
"Ahh..."
The world's resonant tone filled his mind once more.
[Death, incurable death proliferates under life's banner, your shadowed grip unleashes plague upon everything]
The timeless murmur brushed his hearing.
[You have unlocked the exclusive class: Black Death]
[Class skill: none]
[You have received a skill scroll]
Skill scroll activates.
[You have gained the class skill]
[Class skill: Plague of Steel]
"The plague propagates via the edge."
[Your legend endures]
A torrent of system alerts followed, detailing shifts in his attributes and abilities.
Damon sensed his form transforming, his essence expanding until it solidified into a compact presence inside. This budding soul linked to the world's surrounding energies.
At last, the ultimate alert rang out.
[Class: Black Death]
"Plague of blood, fields of steel, death proliferates under life's banner."
Upon reading it, Damon grasped its essence.
It captured his transformed being. Compelled to endure, he would eliminate any peril to his survival.
He disseminated death to safeguard life.
His own life.
With Deathless poised to unleash its full fury upon him, a brutal rampage loomed ahead.
"Very well. Come at me."
Strength now coursed through him.
Damon lifted his gaze, spotting the crowd's stares upon him. Only then did he note the elixir still in his hold.
He tucked it into his shadow storage. It may have vanished earlier, but returned to reality, such fears dissolved.
Anxiety eluded him.
None could seize it from his grasp.
The ancient powerhouses of superior tiers posed a different challenge.
’Months must have slipped by in our absence.’
Crack.
The overhead barrier fractured, thrusting them into the external realm.
Damon glanced skyward, seeing the spectators in their seats as before.
His sibling occupied the Brightwater family's enclosure.
Time appeared utterly unchanged.
A pale streak darted as Elf King Kadelas sped to Sylvia, his face etched with concern for his child.
Chaos reigned: cries, astonishment, raw feelings.
Yet for Damon and his fellow nightmare survivors, the scene rang hollow.