My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 967 - 968: White Witch

"I refuse."

Sylvia spoke firmly, her tone leaving no room for compromise.

There was zero hesitation or sign of weakness; only the cold, unyielding resolve of her denial.

For a brief moment, the book remained silent.

Then, new words manifested slowly upon the page.

"I am a god. The conclusion of this affair has already been revealed to me."

"You will succumb to my proposal."

The text appeared with an eerie, composed uniformity, suggesting the outcome was already etched in stone.

Sylvia’s fingers trembled slightly.

"I refuse," she stated once more.

Her gaze wavered for a split second, but she pulled herself together, forcing her composure to hold.

"How can you possibly ask this of me?" she retorted, her voice strained. "This only confirms one thing."

"You are not truly in charge."

"Not nearly as much as you like to pretend."

The pages of the tome suddenly fluttered.

They came to rest on an empty sheet.

Yet, no text manifested.

He was waiting.

Sylvia grasped the situation instantly.

He anticipated what she intended to say next.

However, the Unknown God allowed her to speak anyway.

Perhaps because the discourse proved more entertaining when the participant retained the illusion of free will.

Sylvia tightened her fists.

"If your influence were truly absolute, why rely on these pacts at all?" she challenged. "Why not descend and seize your desires yourself?"

"I have no intention of denying Damon his solitary opportunity to defy such hopeless odds."

For a moment, the page remained blank.

Then, a singular image materialized.

Damon.

A sword pierced through his chest.

Crimson blood trickled down the blade.

Despair was etched into his eyes.

That was the sole response.

Sylvia gasped, biting her lip until she tasted the copper of her own life force.

Subsequently, new text emerged beneath the portrait.

"Your assessment is accurate."

"Though my nature is demonic... I am simultaneously a god."

"What sort of deity would I be to deny mortals a fair chance at their fate?"

The page turned again.

The tone of the writing seemed momentarily amused.

"I was on the verge of revealing everything to you."

"The future."

"And the method to evade it entirely."

"But that is of no consequence now."

"The choice has been yours."

The pages drifted slowly once more.

They stopped abruptly.

"A new negotiation."

"I shall grant you a vision of that which approaches."

"In return, you need only perform one trivial deed."

Sylvia faltered.

This felt different.

Perhaps... better.

"And what would that be?" she inquired cautiously.

The quill began to move across the parchment again.

"I require only that you visit the Lake of Tears."

Sylvia's expression hardened instantly.

"I will not assist you in its annihilation," she declared.

Her denial was instantaneous.

The Unknown God appeared unmoved.

The response materialized with the same calm as before.

"Very well."

"Then I shall offer you a guarantee."

"I will not bring destruction upon the Lake of Tears."

Sylvia furrowed her brows.

Something about this assertion felt wrong.

It was too simple.

While she failed to spot the deception, she knew the trick must exist.

New words surfaced.

"There is no cause for suspicion."

"While absolutes are rare..."

"My promises are immutable."

The book continued.

"Vows that I forge, and vows established with me, are never to be broken."

Sylvia still felt uncertain.

This arrangement felt perilous.

Almost... demonic.

"Then... you haven't issued the oath yet," she reasoned carefully.

"Precisely."

The words appeared in flash.

Then, a fresh line manifested.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

"I swear, by the moniker of the Demon God..."

The script that followed appeared warped, as if the fabric of reality resisted the formation of the letters.

"A*t*ir I*a Ac**x."

"To honor my side of this covenant."

The chill in the chamber intensified. The nature of this pact felt primeval.

Ancient.

Like a ritual predating language itself.

Sylvia’s instincts warned her of the danger.

Yet, she was consumed by desperation.

And desperation often blinds mortals into accepting pacts they would otherwise shun.

She swallowed hard.

"What must be done?"

"Retrieve a worm from the floor and insert it into your eye."

Sylvia read the text and turned deathly pale.

Her gaze shifted to the ground, where parasites writhed in nauseating clumps. They had been purged from her own biology mere moments ago.

The mere sight caused her stomach to churn.

After the vile experience of expelling them, the thought of touch was repulsive.

But the covenant was already in motion.

Slowly, she knelt.

Her hands quivered as she reached out to seize one of the creatures.

It squirmed between her fingertips.

Nausea overcame her.

She hesitated for a heart-stopping second.

Then, she raised it toward her eye.

Before she could brace herself—

The creature lunged.

It burrowed into her socket with a damp pop and a splash of blood.

Her vision flared into a wash of crimson.

Agony, sharp as lightning, tore through her skull.

Dark, web-like veins erupted across her face as she collapsed to the floor.

"AHHHHHHH—!"

Her scream pierced the chamber. A raw, visceral cry of anguish that echoed into the silent void.

Her frame convulsed as excruciating pain consumed her nerves.

Minutes bled away.

Then, gradually...

The agony subsided.

Sylvia lay gasping, her breathing shallow.

With trembling hands, she pulled away from her face.

Her left eye remained intact.

More than that.

It felt... sharper.

More precise.

As if the layers obscuring the world had been stripped away.

And yet, an underlying wrongness persisted.

As if the eye no longer served her own will.

She slowly turned her gaze toward the book.

And with that left eye—

She perceived it.

It was no longer a book.

The object appeared as if the night sky had been compressed into the shape of a codex.

Within it, she beheld the entirety of existence.

The omniverse itself.

Galaxies.

Star systems.

Infinite universes drifting like motes of dust through a cosmic sea.

The deeper she stared, the more the sheer vastness threatened to consume her consciousness.

She felt lost.

Entranced.

Then—

Within that infinite expanse, she saw one thing.

Herself.

A solitary figure amidst a billion worlds.

One of her eyes appeared duller than its counterpart.

"Now you have truly become a White Seer."

The voice resonated from directly behind her ear.

A whisper.

Sylvia spun around, reacting on instinct.

There was no one.

The voice continued, soft and fluid.

"Perhaps it would be more fitting to name you..."

"The White Witch."

A solitary tear of blood welled from Sylvia’s eye.

Then, the whisper returned.

"Awaken, White Witch."

Sylvia jolted upright.

Her head jerked from the desk.

Her cheek had been resting against the book.

Her skin was drenched in cold sweat.

Her heart thundered violently as she canvassed her surroundings.

Her room.