My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 954 - 955: First Wave

Previously on My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger...

As the ship departed, Damon led a team of women on the forward boat toward the singing sirens perched on jagged rocks, warning the men to avoid eye contact to prevent the creatures from assuming the forms of their desires. The sirens' melody intensified, and one transformed into a seductive version of Lilith Astranova, drawing a surprised reaction from Damon. Further shifts revealed shapes resembling Renata, Seras, and Evangeline, exposing Damon's hidden thoughts and eliciting embarrassment amid the mission's tension, while the other soldiers kept their distance in respect.

Naturally, the instant Matia's visage emerged, yet another siren underwent a transformation.

His hands shook uncontrollably.

His instincts were turning against him.

The following siren morphed into Wendy.

Then one more shifted to resemble Leona.

This madness needed to end.

Damon shielded his eyes with his hands.

"Matia!"

His shout broke with emotion.

"Slaughter them. Eliminate every single one. I can't bear to watch. Just finish it!"

Matia wasted no time in acting.

Wendy, on the other hand, let out a soft, mocking chuckle.

"You indulge in fantasies with women and then demand their demise."

She shook her head in an over-the-top manner.

"Typical noble conduct."

Damon gazed at the heavens in quiet torment.

Oh, the sheer unfairness of it all.

The men on the nearby boats gradually shut their eyes.

A few even offered a respectful salute.

"I wish I had that kind of courage," one murmured softly.

"Vice Commander, you're my inspiration."

"I sensed he was a true legend from our very first encounter."

Damon caught every utterance and experienced not a shred of honor.

In the meantime, Matia leaped from the boat.

Her delicate foot met the water, and the ocean surface hardened into ice right away under her. A swift ring of frost expanded outward, converting the surging waves into dense sheets of ice.

She unsheathed her blade.

In a single fluid stroke, the head of a stunning siren soared skyward.

Blood splashed over the iced sea.

By a twist of fate, the initial victim was the siren who had assumed Lilith Astranova's likeness.

Matia pressed on without pause.

Her figure turned hazy in motion.

Frozen spikes burst forth from her sword as she advanced, whipping up a blizzard of lethal icy shards blended with gushing blood. The sirens scarcely managed a cry before being sliced to pieces.

Their melody cut off suddenly.

No escape existed for them.

The ocean had morphed into their cage.

Matia had encased the entire area in ice, locking the waters all the way to the rough cliffs in front. Confined upon the frozen expanse, the sirens met their end right there.

In mere seconds, the last of them fell to her onslaught.

Quietness reclaimed the waves.

Yet, a valuable outcome arose from the carnage.

The stretch of water linking the boats to the cliff now lay fully iced over, creating a sturdy walkway of frost.

The boats proved unnecessary any longer.

The team assembled on the solid icy ground.

Damon lifted his arm.

"Ashborn."

Shadowy infernos blazed across the forsaken vessels.

The timber caught fire without delay, as ebony flames consumed the ships completely, leaving only floating cinders and haze. No traces survived.

After the final vessel crumbled to glowing remains, the party faced the cliffs.

The stone barrier loomed overhead.

Towering.

Rugged.

Scores of meters in height.

To an ordinary individual, scaling it would drain their strength.

Damon merely crouched slightly.

Then he sprang upward.

The earth splintered under his boots during the launch, propelling him through the sky until he alighted gracefully atop the cliff edge with one leap.

For the very first time, his footwear met the earth of the Demon Continent.

The instant it did, a sensation awakened within him.

His pulse quickened sharply.

Buried deep inside, the Seed of Depravity quivered.

A subtle surge of force rippled out over the terrain like an unseen throb.

Far off, within a remote stronghold, Paimon abruptly widened her eyes.

Her face grew tense.

"Huh... what could that be?"

She shut her eyes once more, probing her awareness over the region.

For an instant, she detected nothing.

Then a courier burst inside bearing pressing information.

"The initial assault group has reached the shoreline!"

Paimon creased her brow faintly.

"One hundred thousand troops..."

She reclined in her seat.

"They're truly committing everything to this opening assault."

*****************

Vessels dotted the skyline without end.

Every craft bore unique emblems and symbols etched into their frames. Enormous spell circles shimmered on their surfaces, archaic patterns vibrating with might strong enough to reshape the surrounding reality.

Warriors positioned themselves aboard the ships.

Clad in shining plate and wielding arms inscribed with sophisticated glyph sorcery, their very aura exerted a heavy oppression in the atmosphere. Myriads of combat essences merged into an oppressive swell of strength that bore down on the waters below.

Overhead, colossal iron skyships filled the heavens.

Glyphic motors shone under their undersides, driving them forward while lines of arcane guns aimed at the ground beneath.

Circling the skyships were mounts borne by riders on mighty enchanted creatures.

Wyverns.

Storm hawks.

Enormous drakes.

In their midst soared winged fae and sprites, joined by kin of the divine lineages who flew unaided.

Beneath the waves, the depths churned with matching intent.

Colossal marine monsters glided beside the armada, leashed by submerged handlers. Full squadrons of merfolk steered the fleet past concealed hazards and perilous flows, directing subsea legions toward hostile beaches.

And this...

Represented merely the opening surge.

Additional craft kept streaming in from the far reaches.

At the armada's heart glided a gigantic flagship.

It formed a vast blended skyship, fit for both ocean travel and aerial flight. Shields of enchanted script pulsed over its plated exterior as spires of mystic firepower pivoted lazily, surveying the shore.

This served as the lead vessel for the vanguard assault.

Within its confines waited the top overseer of the incursion.

A youthful lady braced one palm on an extended lance.

Her ebony locks streamed in the ocean breeze, as her scarlet gaze surveyed the remote seaboard with steady command.

She possessed stunning allure.

And utter dreadfulness.

This was Abellona of Valtheron.

The Empire's Third Princess.

Head of the initial attacking contingent.

Her objective remained straightforward.

She led as the spearhead.

Her duty involved securing the outpost that would enable the goddess kin forces to penetrate the Demon Continent.