My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 948 - 949: Phoenix Nirvana Eye

Oh, for the sake of the goddess.

Yet truly, such devotion meant little, given how the goddess spared no thought for their plight.

And by all that might be listening, dubbing a cursed artifact 'your precious' boded ill indeed.

Damon cast a glance at the golden trinket.

A crimson ruby gleamed softly in its midst. The form felt off somehow. It resembled no ordinary gem.

It resembled an eye.

Before the knight clutching it could respond, Damon clenched his fist.

The shadow within his grasp folded like crumpled parchment.

The knight stiffened.

His gaze dulled.

And then he perished.

Just like that.

His form tumbled to the deck unmarked by any injury, the golden trinket tumbling from his grasp and clattering lightly against the wood.

Damon had shattered his shadow.

It proved a sinister demise. Damon figured it brought excruciating agony, though so swift the victim couldn't voice their torment fully.

A shared gasp of chill air rippled across the deck.

Not a single knight stirred.

All remained rooted in place, hushed by Damon's icy, merciless deed.

Damon paid them no mind.

He stooped low and carefully retrieved the trinket.

He prepared to hurl it into the waves when sensation struck him.

A treacherous mental assault.

It crept toward his thoughts like venom hunting a gash, aiming to infiltrate his essence.

Damon scarcely twitched.

The crown atop his brow flickered softly.

The Ascendant Armor repelled the intrusion entirely.

No delusion.

No taint.

No insanity.

Nothing breached him.

Even so, Damon refused to lower his guard.

Absolutes didn't exist in this realm.

Even godly safeguards could crumble in certain scenarios.

Thus, rather than discarding it, he paused and chose to examine it.

A subtle azure panel materialized in his vision.

[Morticai Nirvana Eye]

The phoenix stood as a sacred lineage.

Mighty and fearsome, equaling dragons.

Their forms arose from eternal fire, undying and timeless, their lives tied to patterns of ruin and renewal.

Yet time showed no mercy to any creature.

Not even the phoenix.

To cleanse the flaws building in their eternal state, they incinerated their own flesh to ashes, shrinking to dust in a ceremony called nirvana.

It was a torturous ordeal.

From those remains, solely a cleansed spirit endured.

The torment of this renewal warped countless phoenix. They grew to despise all they deemed unclean.

This relic was once Morticai's eye.

It bore his intent.

And the flaws that had marred him prior to his nirvana.

Bearers of the eye would confront Morticai’s enduring will and the decay that lingered in his past form.

Damon gritted his teeth.

Of course.

Naturally, it was that fiend.

"I see," Damon whispered grimly. "So it's you, Morticai."

This explained his curse upon them.

Damon peered at the eye cradled in his palm.

Thus, he was a phoenix.

Damon knew naught of phoenix beyond the system's outline, but as a divine race, it demanded respect.

His grip firmed on the eye.

He couldn't retain it.

Yet Damon yearned not to discard it without striking back at Morticai.

He faced Seras with a frosty look.

"Are you able to shatter this item?"

Seras blinked.

She evidently hadn't anticipated such a query.

Damon exhaled and massaged his brow before clarifying.

"This is the eye belonging to that voice from the Bone Hallows," he stated.

"The one claiming to serve the God of Souls."

He intentionally skirted the name.

Despite his defenses against fate's twists and the enigmatic god’s shield, uttering that name remained imprudent save in dire need.

Certain names could sense their own utterance.

Seras fell silent briefly. Uncertain of response, she gradually accepted the orb from Damon. Upon contact, she sensed an attempt to cling to her psyche. She promptly veiled her hand in sorcery and repulsed the force.

"Hmm... I understand. This forms part of that being."

She detected a consciousness within. Faint and vague, yet purposeful.

"From what I... um... discerned, it's his eye. He's a phoenix. Some divine entity, perhaps. Never encountered one. You?"

Seras gradually shook her head.

"My first encounter too. No matter what this phoenix entails, it's far from benevolent."

In Aetherus's vast chronicles, no phoenix appeared. Dragons featured prominently in old scrolls, but phoenix lay unknown.

"Can you annihilate it?" Damon inquired.

"Indeed. Yes, I can."

Damon inclined his head, yet Seras squinted.

"However, we'd need to handle it away from the vessel. The backlash could submerge the entire craft."

He nodded deliberately and eyed the inky blue seas encircling them.

"Very well. The ship can advance a few miles while we linger to obliterate it. Matia will form an ice raft."

Seras agreed with a nod.

"That gives us choices: swim back... or take to the skies."

Damon negated with a shake of his head.

"I'll handle that."

He discerned her concerns. Soaring over the sea held perils. Mid-flight assaults or arcane strikes could fell them. Swimming fared worse. Submerged horrors might pull them down.

A knight clad in dark armor glided toward the sea, her fairy wings unfurling broadly at her back. They sparkled with swirling snow, each flap dispersing chill into the breeze.

As her boots met the waves, the ocean responded at once.

The liquid underfoot started to solidify, expanding in crisp white designs. Ice surged over the swells, transforming the turbulent brine into firm glacier.

In mere moments, a broad icy expanse emerged.

Behind, the ship gradually pulled away, canvas billowing in the gusts as the captain steered it miles distant, per the scheme.

Damon and Seras leaped from the rail.

Their soles hit the frigid ice with a firm snap, the solid layer creaking softly under their mass as they balanced.

Both lingered wordlessly a beat, observing the ship shrink afar.

Seras folded her arms and eyed the receding ship.

"You realize, you might've simply flung that into the depths and been done with it."

Damon regarded the golden eye in his hold, its ruby heart pulsing dimly as if observing him.

"Yeah," he replied evenly. "And I might've pardoned that scoundrel as well."

His digits squeezed the relic a touch.

"Pardoning and releasing grudges isn't my style."