My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 965 - 966: A Name From The Book

Tears welled up in the elf woman’s eyes, leaving them swollen and bloodshot as she wept.

Yes, Sylvia had long since grown into a woman. Yet, for some reason, she found herself completely incapable of restraining those tears.

It was a torrent of sheer helplessness and stifling frustration.

Once more, her gaze dropped to the mysterious volume resting before her.

Damon remained captured on the page, his eyes frozen in absolute despair as a blade pierced his chest.

She had been thorough in her study of that weapon. Every minute detail was etched into her memory: the craftsmanship of the steel, the unique form of the hilt, and the intricate runes running along the blade’s edge.

The one thing the book refused to reveal, however...

Was the identity of the person wielding the sword.

Someone was destined to betray Damon. But that wasn't the source of her sorrow.

Sylvia’s terror was rooted in something far more profound.

She feared that she—the person he loved most—would be his ultimate betrayer.

Through every desperate attempt to weave a new path, the tome of the Unknown God had made one brutal truth apparent: any effort to defy the prophecy only served to pave the road toward its fulfillment.

For all she knew, by attempting to prevent this grim future, she might actually be the one to drive that blade into Damon’s heart.

She gripped her hair, knotting her fingers into the strands as frustration tore through her. Her jaw clamped down so forcefully that her gums began to seep blood.

"Haha... hahah..."

A soft, fragile sound escaped her, reminiscent of pearls scattering across a hard surface.

Yet, a hollow, biting sting lurked beneath the laughter.

The tragedy of betrayal lies in its source; it only inflicts true pain because it originates from someone you hold dear.

When such profound trust is shattered, the wound cuts deeper than any physical weapon ever could.

Sylvia stared intently at the tome once more.

As if addressing someone lurking in the shadows, she murmured, "What do I do?"

Silence stretched for a heartbeat. Then, the pages turned by themselves, coming to rest upon a completely blank surface.

She heard it distinctly—the frantic scratching of a quill against paper.

Her eyes widened as characters slowly manifested.

"Betray him."

Those two words were all the page offered.

"Betray him..."

Sylvia stared at the ink in shock before her brow furrowed with realization.

The presence felt different this time. Usually, the book’s influence was mechanical and distant, but these words carried a focused, sharp intent, as if someone were speaking directly through the parchment.

"You..." Her voice tremored. "Are you Altair?"

The instant that name left her tongue, she felt as if her own throat were being shredded. Blood erupted from her mouth, splashing in crimson droplets across her fine garments.

The reality around her began to unravel. When she cast her eyes toward the window, the Moon Glades had vanished entirely, consumed by an encroaching, endless void.

It was a darkness deeper than anything she had ever known. And yet, scattered throughout that infinite abyss were countless glittering lights.

Stars. They shimmered across the silent expanse like scattered diamonds, a beauty that defied human language.

The longer she looked, the harder it became to tear her eyes away.

Drip. Drip.

A liquid splashed onto the floor below. Looking down, she realized a pool of blood was forming, leaking directly from her weeping eyes.

She realized then that she was not observing the heavens, but rather the abyss itself—the true, repulsive, and beautiful form of the Unknown God.

Sinner and saint, demon and god, present yet absent—it was all of them at once.

Her hands trembled violently as she forced her gaze back down. The agony was excruciating, her vision feeling as though it were being ripped apart.

When she again looked at the book, new words had replaced the old.

"Do not invoke the Lord’s name in vain."

Sylvia hung her head, her teeth tightly locked against the nausea roiling in her stomach.

Something began to crawl up her throat. Pale, writhing worms spilled from her lips, forming sickening piles on the floor, followed by thick, slime-coated black maggots.

She convulsed, retching uncontrollably, until thick clumps of dark hair emerged, which she pulled forth with trembling fingers.

She offered no resistance. This was the cost.

After several agonizing minutes, the purging finally ceased, and Sylvia slumped over the desk, gasping for air.

"Forgive me..." she wheezed weakly. "I never intended to disrespect the God of the Abyss."

Slowly, the text shifted again.

"It is of no consequence. Many cycles have passed since one of your kind dared to utter my name."

"I don’t want to remember. Remembering brings only pain."

Sylvia blinked, startled. She hadn't anticipated such a candid response. Perhaps speaking the name had breached a barrier.

She knew the Unknown God loathed his own name, though she never understood why—only that he had once allowed the Goddess to strike it from existence.

Did he truly harbor such hatred for it?

The answer appeared without hesitation.

"No. I loved my name once, and I cherished those permitted to use it. Now, those memories are merely chains that lash me with anguish."

Sylvia’s eyes widened. "You can perceive my thoughts."

"I am a god. There are feats I perform that lie beyond your meager comprehension."

She nodded, keeping her gaze steady. "What did you mean earlier? You seldom converse with mortals. Surely there is a purpose?"

The text materialized once more. "Your audacity is amusing. It would be a dull exchange indeed if you only did nothing but cower in fear."

Sylvia held her ground. She reminded herself that while he was a god, he was equally a demon. It was safer to stick to referring to him as simply "Unknown." Even the thought of his true name sent shivers through her spine.

The book responded again: "I am a demon. More so than I am a god, though some would argue I am a perfect equilibrium of both."

There it was, reading her thoughts as easily as turning a page. Nothing could be hidden from a being like him.

"I will not betray Damon," Sylvia declared firmly. "I refuse to play a part in fulfilling his prophecy."

Then, something unexpected bloomed on the page: a tiny, mocking caricature of a human face, its mouth twisted into a taunting grin.

"I never commanded you to do otherwise," the text read. "The choice remains entirely yours. There are no absolutes before the Demon God. Because all things exist within me, nothing is absolute anywhere."