My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 892 - 893: Second Time In History

Right as a voice was poised to brand him an idiot for dashing after the grand duke while yelling "grandpa," the grand duke astonishingly consented.

And remained solidly at his side.

A cocky grin spread across Damon's face. Security wrapped around him right here. Who would even think of laying a finger on him anymore? Not a soul.

An elderly aristocrat with skin etched in heavy creases advanced, his demeanor steady and unruffled.

"Your Excellency, if I might," he uttered with courtesy. "Doesn't it seem somewhat unjust to declare this youth your grandson just for a single elixir?"

He inclined his head a touch, his presence restrained.

"Think of your standing."

Damon peered up at the grand duke before whispering into his ear.

"Grandpa, is this fellow accusing you of deceit? He ought to meet his end."

Chill swept into the grand duke's gaze.

A burst of radiance streaked through the air.

The aged noble hadn't a moment to respond before his arms vanished entirely. In an instant. Resistance hadn't even crossed his mind.

Damon grinned like a sly fox who'd just discovered the mighty tiger viewed it as its own offspring.

Though here, he truly counted as one of those offspring.

"Nepotism only stinks when it's not lining my pockets."

Cassian knitted his brows at Damon's words.

'He voiced the unspoken truth.'

Damon drew in a steadying breath. His sibling eyed him with bewilderment. She stood as the sole observer clueless to the real events unfolding.

Reactions varied wildly among the onlookers to the spectacle they'd beheld, yet the grand duke showed no shock that Damon had pieced it together.

True to form for his grandson.

A gentle exhale escaped Aurelius Venn as he stood up.

"I never knew the Golden Death fathered a child," he remarked, aiming his statement straight at Cassian.

Cassian let out a weary sigh. He'd been keeping to himself peacefully, but somehow they'd pulled him into the mess.

"Though the likeness might strike you as eerie, I promise you I'm not his sire."

Damon pressed a palm to his heart.

"You're shattering my spirit."

Cassian sighed once more. He yearned for this chaos to wrap up so everyone could simply head back home.

"So, how is he connected to you precisely, Grand Duke?" Aurelius urged, chasing the validation for his hunch.

"The details don't concern you. This stays a private family issue, and meddlers have no place in it," the grand duke snapped back. Let another handle the explanations to the temple. Not him.

Damon released a hushed breath of ease.

Mere instants earlier, peril had loomed large, so he'd triggered the snare he'd set for his grandfather. In truth, Damon had zero intention of departing without unveiling their bond.

The consequences? That burden fell to the elder.

Yet Damon needed to capitalize further.

He jabbed a finger at the assembly.

"How could you handle me like that? Did you overlook my victory over Amon? Weren't rewards pledged to me? I clearly recall the temple bestowing the grand honor of hero upon me."

His eyes then shifted to the emperor.

"Plus, the empire vowed me a vast fortune and a rank among the nobles."

The emperor's face stayed impassive. The pledges lingered in his memory. If anything, he'd watched the whole affair unfold.

"The empire upholds its word to you."

Damon scanned the crowd, hunting for more debtors. His stare settled on Seras Blade.

"Don't assume I've overlooked you too."

She let out a laugh.

"You're truly indestructible. That trait surely didn't come from your mother. Perhaps it traces to your father's lineage."

The elder from the Ravenscroft lineage chuckled quietly.

"Oh, now it clicks. So he's Ranar's boy. You ought to have mentioned it. Such a tiny realm. Who'd guess a pal of Xander's turns out to be Ranar Brightwater's offspring."

"Ranar Brightwater? Wasn't she lost to us ages back?"

"Indeed, I was even at her burial."

"So why would the grand duke fabricate the tale?"

Damon lifted his arm.

"Pardon the cut-in, but he and I aren't buddies. More like schoolmates who barely tolerated one another."

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The applause resounded across the arena.

Damon spun toward the source.

Paimon.

She'd kept mute throughout. Having rounded up the remaining demon successors onto her dromedary, she perched on the beast's crown.

"My thanks. I had no clue the goddess kin harbored such intense intrigue," she quipped casually. "It kept me riveted. Regrettably, my time is limited, and dusk approaches. Thus, if it suits you, I've a brief announcement."

She cleared her voice while shadowy wings spread from her back.

"I recognize this breaks tradition, with just a single prior instance in our annals, but I'm issuing it. A war declaration against every goddess race, spoken for the Demon Continent."

Her tone boomed.

"By the obscured title of the Unknown God, I, Paimon, High Priestess of the Snake Temple, proclaim war upon you all."

Her dromedary ascended skyward. A tear in space appeared, swallowing Paimon whole.

In a flash, the realm teetered on war's edge anew.

Across history's clashes, the goddess races had launched the assaults. Each time, demons crushed them and shoved the strife back to goddess territories.

Demons had initiated just once before.

That came in the Era of Ashcroft, as the Demon Lord of Domination claimed the throne of Demon King and rallied the then-marginalized demons to revolt.

Thus dawned the age of demon dominance.

All at once, lesser woes faded into irrelevance.

The goddess races, fractured by endless rifts, drew tighter together than ever imagined.

An odd reality.

Loathing binds souls swifter than affection ever might.

"War preparations are urgent. No room for delay," certain nobles bellowed.

"Another conflict brewing? The previous one ended just years past."

"Have the demons lost their minds?"

"We haven't mended from the prior bout yet."

"Is this the finale? Has Ashcroft come back?"

Instantly, Damon's bold unveiling lost all weight.

The demons had unleashed their war cry.

Damon stayed quiet, fixated where Paimon had faded. His instinct for peril throbbed from afar.

Conviction gripped him now.

Deathless would hurl him into genuine peril.

'Blast it. Death holds no appeal for me.'

The hex lodged in his core stirred on reflex, compelling Damon's instincts to shield his survival above all.