My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 912 - 913: Amadeus

The lich appeared captivated. This was the sole notion crossing Seras's mind as she noticed its empty stare locked steadily on Damon.

Damon, on the other hand, casually sipped his wine, behaving like he wasn't facing off against a quirky ancient beast from a malevolent arcane tradition.

"Come, come... sit. Tell me about yourself," Damon invited, causing the whole expedition team to blanch in terror while they monitored the lich’s response.

The lich hesitated briefly, then gradually approached Damon's location.

Damon prepared to pull a chair from his shadow storage, but the lich gestured with his hand, summoning a seat crafted from bones right behind him.

From his seated spot, Damon sensed the presence. Yet, he had encountered a figure deserving of regard.

"What did you mean by ’predated his existence’?" the lich inquired gently, his timeless voice hushed, nearly a murmur.

Damon twirled his wine glass before casting a look at the lich.

"Have you heard of a paradox?"

"Yes. It is a simple concept. A contradictory statement of opposing natures that is both true. There are at least ten definitions of what a paradox is."

"You have asked me two questions now," the lich responded evenly.

Damon stiffened. He blinked, puzzled.

"Wait, that doesn’t apply—" he cut himself off. The lich had promised answers to three questions. Damon hadn't anticipated the ancient being would deliver them upfront, without even announcing it.

"Touché, friend. Touché," Damon conceded, sensing Seras’s furious stare boring into him. Truthfully, it wasn't on him. This lich was playing dirty.

The lich’s eyes stayed pinned on him.

Damon realized he could no longer stall for time, though he truly preferred not to discuss the Unknown God amid such a crowd if possible.

"The Unknown God is said to have existed before the moment of his birth. He existed in both extremities of time. Apparently, he only became active quite recently, at least compared to when gods like Doom ruled."

Silence emanated from the lich.

"Interesting... interesting indeed to think... no, that should be a small feat for the Unknown God."

He eyed Damon with a chilling essence of death.

"Your words seem to suggest you have knowledge of a time before even the goddess."

Damon halted briefly. His gaze lingered on the glass he held, though in truth, he studied the reflection of Seras’s blade within it. She offered a faint nod, prompting Damon to nearly chew his lip.

"Perhaps... what I know is frighteningly little. Still, knowledge should be shared. I’m sure you think so too, friend."

"Amadeus of the West," the lich stated firmly. "I am Amadeus."

Amadeus.

Damon wasn't truly familiar with the name. It surely pertained to a significant figure. As to Damon's awareness of this, it was straightforward.

Minor figures didn't adopt titles tied to directions. Such a choice marked a supreme master.

Though Damon lacked knowledge of Amadeus, Seras recognized the name.

"You... you are Amadeus the God Seeker..."

"A great mage from the First Epoch who was said to have walked the Path of Kings. Amadeus sought the knowledge to become a god. He named himself after the West to symbolize the setting sun, a representation of the dusk of gods. He lamented, and to this day seeks the way to transcend the limits of the world."

Damon grasped why she recited this. She conveyed it under the guise of astonishment, and he genuinely valued her effort.

"I am merely a forgotten name," Amadeus remarked. "I’m surprised I am still remembered."

Damon took a sip of his drink.

"I see you walked the Path of Kings. It’s not every day I see someone who experienced Lysithara and all its beauty."

"I am not surprised you would appreciate its elegance. After all, the armor you are wearing is from Lysithara," the lich observed, his stare settling on Damon’s Ascendant armor.

Damon brushed his armor, setting his glass aside.

"Oh, this old thing... it’s nothing. Personally, I’m curious as to which Ascendant you studied under."

The lich tolerated the casual exchange. Encounters with those familiar with Lysithara were scarce for him. Damon stood out as an exception, meriting his esteem.

"I learned from Valarie Sunwarden. You wouldn’t be familiar with her."

"I see. What a small world... She was my teacher too. Did she have that know-it-all attitude back when she was teaching you?" Damon inquired. Meeting another who knew Valarie filled him with real joy, especially someone who recalled her.

The lich let out a sigh, rattling his form—or rather, his bones.

"Yes. She had a tendency to teach in the most inopportune times. She wouldn’t stop until you got it. She especially hated it when her students lost to the students of other Ascendants. She’d encourage us to pull childish pranks on them to get even."

All at once, the lich lost his aura of dread, resembling nothing more than an elder lost in memories of his younger days.

"Of course, we won more than we lost. However, whenever we lost, it was always against that no-good scumbag, Mugu..."

Damon halted upon hearing the Wicked Prophet's name, the instigator of so much chaos.

Seras Blade went rigid. Through the reflection, her look pressed Damon to dig deeper. Details on the Wicked Prophet remained woefully rare.

"Hm... Mugu. I see. So you knew him."

The lich grew annoyed, his presence surging.

"We were in the same class. He was just a boy from the Demon Continent, nursing a grudge and hoping to return home to meet his—"

The lich stopped. Gradually, his energy calmed. He had evidently caught on to Damon's probing.

"Touché, friend. Touché," he echoed Damon’s earlier phrase.

The morning sunlight pierced through the dense overhead branches, bathing them in its glow.

Everyone grew alert, expecting the lich to lash out, but he remained still. Amadeus stayed silent.

"Now my turn to answer," he declared. "Tell me what you know."

Damon folded his arms, eyeing the group trailing him, the expedition force.

"This is blasphemous, and I’ll have you know that just possessing this knowledge can be grounds for heresy and execution. Personally, I’m safe. I am, after all, the Holy Child."

His stare held on the lich. Both understood he addressed the expedition force, not the lich.

His statement boiled down to a clear warning: spread word of this at your own risk. I hold high status. I am beyond reach. You are not.

In essence, he urged them to guard the secret.

One mage trembled. Her thirst for insight clashed with her dread of death. Nonetheless, she produced an oath scroll.

"I sign this scroll and swear secrecy to the events of today."

She inscribed it with her blood, then handed it along. Before long, all had added their signatures.

Seras accepted the scroll and signed, not out of necessity, but to sustain her troops' spirits.

When it came to Damon, he skipped signing. Instead, he flung it into his shadow storage.

He was the secret's source. No signature required from him.

"Now then, where was I... ah, yes. The goddess wasn’t always a god. If anything, she was just like you. Well, not like you, since you’re undead. I mean she was human. A mortal."

"She was born. With a mother and a father, I imagine."

As Damon uttered this, gasps of horror rose from the expedition force.

"My goodness..."

"Goddess have mercy..."

"Oh, have mercy on my soul..."

"It’s heresy..."

These murmurs explained why Damon waited for the oaths. To them, it defied belief. Their goddess, whose very existence they doubted, shown as imperfect.

Believers carried such frailties, forever shielding an omnipotent deity who required no shield. The goddess likely remained indifferent. Yet, these folk would slaughter in her honor. Despite her domain over doom and war.

The lich ignored their shock. He adjusted in his chair, bending closer.

Damon crossed his arms.

"In the beginning, the omniverse where we all exist was ruled by amoral entities called the Old Gods, or the Old Ones. They were older than concepts like love or kindness. They ruled the world until a select few rebelled. The ones who did somehow became gods and defeated the Old Ones."

"This includes the goddess."

"How... how did they become gods?" the lich demanded fiercely, glimpsing a spark in his quest.

"I do not know," Damon replied steadily.

"Perhaps the Outsiders know," he suggested.

"They don’t. I asked them," the lich, Amadeus, countered.

Damon raised his head a touch.

He had questioned them. Naturally. Amadeus dated back to the First Epoch. The Outsiders operated then too. Perhaps this opened a door to learn more about them.

"They don’t know," Damon stated, "or they refused to tell you."

Amadeus clenched his jaw, bones scraping on his bare skull.

"They refused me... keeping their secrets. In their eyes, I saw disdain for us of the lower Realm. Oh, curse the goddess for creating me in a world such as this..."

"A world in a cage," Damon interjected.

The lich went still.

"Wha... what do you mean..."