My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 956 - 957: Excuse Me My Good Man

Damon advanced boldly, showing no trace of uncertainty.

The scenario appeared fraught with peril.

Yet Damon possessed demonic heritage to some degree.

Horns already protruded from his head, though he often kept them concealed.

In this realm... assimilation came easily.

Indeed, he contemplated shaping his horns a touch to enhance their authenticity.

Seras inclined her head in agreement.

"Very well. Then you may lead a team with you."

Damon knew precisely whom he desired for the task.

"I’ll bring Wendy, Renata, and Matia."

These were the sole individuals privy to his hidden truth.

Moreover, Renata belonged to the demonkin race herself.

For her, this land felt almost like a native territory.

Lana clenched her lower lip sharply before lifting her staff and directing it toward Seras.

"With utmost respect, Commander, we must object to this."

Her tone quivered, yet she compelled herself onward.

"His Excellency the Grand Duke commanded us to ensure Lord Damon returns home safely."

She gestured in Damon’s direction.

"And yet... you’re dispatching him on a mission doomed to fail!"

Seras observed her with composed demeanor.

The Brightwater Knights positioned behind Lana displayed strained faces.

Evidently, they shared her sentiment.

"I’m not dispatching him," Seras responded evenly. "He offered his services."

Damon gestured casually to wave it off.

"At ease. It’s a minor issue. I’ll manage it fine."

Silas, the leader of the knights, had remained silent up to this point.

He moved ahead.

"My lord, your courage remains beyond doubt," he stated cautiously. "However, stepping into a demon city will make you conspicuous right away. Blending in seems impossible."

Damon held a ready response.

But Seras interjected before him.

She delved into her cloak and flung a handful of brooches.

They landed with a clink close to Damon’s boots.

"These serve as disguise brooches," she explained.

"They excel at modifying looks, though they solely append demon traits."

She folded her arms across her chest.

"They might grant you horns, wings, tails... such features. The illusions appear and feel utterly genuine."

Her gaze tightened a fraction.

"Still, they remain mere illusions. Should the brooch bestow wings, flight isn’t possible unless you possessed them naturally or employed flight spells."

Next, she faced Lana.

"I praise your boldness," Seras declared icily. "Your devotion has left an impression on me."

Her stare intensified.

"That’s the reason you still breathe."

The weight in her words struck Lana like a tangible blow.

Briefly, it seemed as if myriad unseen blades encircled her.

Her legs weakened.

She collapsed to her knees, perspiration streaming down her features while she fought to raise her eyes.

At the same time, Damon retrieved a brooch with a broad smile.

Excitement truly gripped him.

An opportunity to traverse demon settlements.

Seras passed him a compact enchanted sheet.

"Update me daily," she instructed. "Stay in contact."

She lightly touched the parchment.

"When needed, I’ll reach out and set up a meeting point."

Her face grew grave.

"Don’t forget our goal."

"The Snake Temple."

She fixed him with a piercing look.

"And restrain that fiery temper of yours."

Damon inclined his head and affixed the brooch to his attire.

At once, horns sprouted from his skull.

Shadowy wings unfurled from his shoulders.

Lana gnawed her lip once more before rising gradually.

Then her eyes met Damon’s.

"I... I’ll accompany you."

Damon’s mouth quirked oddly.

"Uh... it’s truly unnecessary."

"I must insist."

Her tone solidified.

"I cannot abandon you in hostile lands. A Radiant Knight’s honor forbids it."

She drew herself up with pride.

"Our role is to shield you and strike as your blade. I’ll join as well."

Damon regarded her with astonishment.

Didn’t knights follow commands?

What drove her unyielding stance?

He strongly preferred she stay behind.

His intentions involved dubious demonic pursuits amid enemy grounds.

Ideally, unobserved.

"No," he replied swiftly. "Remain here."

Regrettably, no solid rationale emerged.

Seras observed the discussion in silence.

Then she gave a subtle nod.

"I side with her."

Damon pivoted gradually.

"A knight ought to act precisely so," Seras went on steadily. "Lana joins your group."

"I mean... I don’t believe—" Damon began.

Seras dismissed it with a gesture.

"It’s settled."

She averted her gaze.

"She accompanies you."

Without turning, she appended,

"Prepare your gear."

Ultimately, as expedition leader, Seras issued the binding call.

Soon after, Damon donned a lengthy journey cloak and slung a satchel across his back. Prominent horns arched from his forehead, while expansive bat-shaped wings extended from his frame.

He tested their movement lightly.

Next, he commanded them to retract.

The wings retracted smoothly and vanished under the guise.

"Impressive," he whispered.

Lana shook her head right away.

"Not impressive, my lord. Far from it. Those grotesque appendages mar your striking appearance."

Damon rubbed the nape of his neck sheepishly.

"Uh... thank you, Lana."

He eyed her briefly.

"You carry it off decently too."

She pursed her lips at once.

Obviously displeased with her own demonic wings.

In contrast to Damon, no horns adorned her. Demonkin females typically lacked them. Horns signified male potency, a marker of fertility.

Thus, Damon might have exaggerated his horns’ size just a tad.

They departed the secluded outpost, as Seras and the remaining team ventured further into the woods seeking a hidden stronghold.

Damon’s party descended a mild slope.

Their aim proved straightforward.

Locate a demon settlement or urban center.

Their fabricated tale was set.

Hailing from a remote highland hamlet. The mightiest warriors of their community. Wanderers who ventured forth to discover broader realms.

The path offered no drama.

Now and then, stray beasts crossed their way.

Harmless encounters.

Feeble foes such as arachnids and minor animals that fled upon detecting the party’s power.

Damon felt a twinge of letdown.

The Demon Continent was renowned for its horrors.

Thus far, it seemed...

Dull.

The creatures proved woefully weak.

At last, they arrived at a road divergence where a weathered signpost leaned askew by the trail.

They paused to inspect it.

Various settlement names were etched into the timber, with indicators directing various ways.

As Damon began to study the marker, he abruptly lifted his gaze.

A band of beings neared from the left route.

Redcap goblins.

They wielded rough implements and garb marred by dried crimson.

Upon spotting Damon’s company, all members braced instinctively.

They anticipated shrieks.

Hostility.

An onslaught.

But instead...

The goblins merely observed them.

The forefront figure offered a gruff salute of acknowledgment.

He grumbled a salutation in a rough dialect of the common language and proceeded onward.

Damon stared in astonishment.

Then recollection dawned.

Beings such as redcap goblins and similar sentient monsters faced enmity from the Goddess Races.

Yet on the Demon Continent...

Acceptance prevailed.

Damon looked to his allies.

Then he extended a palm.

"Pardon me, good sir."

Utterance Damon never imagined directing at a goblin.

Particularly a redcap variant.

Past encounters with their ilk lingered.

The goblin band halted.

Their head turned deliberately toward him.