My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 983 - 985: Another Feat

Damon stood motionless, his mana reserves gradually replenishing from the surrounding ambient mana. Drawing in a deep breath, his shoulders lifted and dropped as his vision extended far past the mountain peaks. From such an elevation, he spotted distant flickers of ruin way out on the horizon.

The conflict with the demon races continued to blaze. Remote explosions of banishment boomed like subdued thunder through the heavens.

He slipped a hand into his cloak, fingertips grazing the material before extracting the compact communicator. Lifting it to his lips, he switched it on.

A brief silence followed.

"I have a report," Damon stated, his stare locked on the horizon as though the battlefield lay within view.

From the other side, Seras released a sigh of relief.

"Why didn’t you contact me sooner? What’s your situation?"

Damon hesitated, his lips tightening into a slim line while pondering where to start describing their circumstances.

"Our situation..." he uttered deliberately. "We’ve managed to sneak into the demon city of Trace by joining some lord’s tournament or whatever. Details are hazy for me."

Seras fell silent.

Then her voice returned.

"Did you say you infiltrated Trace?"

"Yes. Is something wrong?" Damon inquired, tilting his head a bit, his gaze shifting to the subtle glow of the city barrier afar. Bewilderment etched across his features.

"Yes. I mean no. Truthfully, I believed it impossible. You can’t infiltrate Trace. It’s a fortress of security. Only demons gain entry," Seras explained, detailing why his feat defied all logic.

Damon squinted at the barrier, scrutinizing it closely now.

"It’s the barrier encircling the city, right?" he questioned, a trickle of icy sweat tracing down his temple.

"Exactly. The barrier was erected by a former Demon Lord, Paimon. Not sure which one. But it blocks humans or any goddess races completely. You must be a demon."

She inhaled sharply before pressing on, her voice sharpening with gravity.

"Dispatching spies there is futile. Even perfectly disguised, it’s a death sentence."

Seras groaned, her tone hardening with irritation.

"I can’t believe you headed there. Your task was straightforward: collect intel. Yet you charged into the heart of danger. Capture means instant death—or you’d become the ultimate bargaining tool. The Temple, Grand Duke, Empire—they’d all demand your return. Your companions? Matia’s nobility, Renata too. Ransom bait for sure. The others lack significance."

By others, she meant Wendy and Lana.

Damon massaged his brow leisurely, breathing out via his nostrils.

He conceded his fortune was outrageous. Deathless had nearly tricked him.

Wendy belonged outside goddess races, entering freely. Lana, once human, had been transformed by Damon into a demonic human—thus a demon by technicality.

Renata started as demon kin. Trolls and goblins evaded goddess races too, morphing into demonic variants post his blessing.

Seras kept berating his recklessness. Her original directive was basic: scout a minor outpost for data. Damon demanded the region’s grandest metropolis. His unfamiliarity with demon lands led straight to one of its deadliest hubs.

Her tone evened out at last.

"Fine. Give me your current status."

Damon grinned faintly, shaking his head.

"Are you maybe concerned for me?"

Seras snorted, her reply icing over.

"I fear you’ll spark catastrophe. Mission’s ongoing. Quit stalling and report. Or did you forget I command you?"

"Yes ma’am," Damon replied, smirking.

"My position’s solid. I rule the loftiest tower in Trace, commanding a force of war trolls, redcap goblins, and balrogs."

A stark hush ensued.

"Hold on. What? Balrogs? How?"

"That? Simple enough. I defeated a fifth-class balrog; he pleaded to serve me. Name’s Gotrog, I believe. Decent fellow. Work-obsessed, but whatever."

Dead quiet.

Seras figured Damon scraped by in hiding, terrified amid foes.

Reality: he reigned like royalty.

Balrogs obeyed him.

Was he a demon lord incarnate?

Credible, minus his history.

She knew his dossier inside out. Mother, her school senior. Grandfather, Empire’s Grand Duke, Demon Lord slayer. Father, knight of humble birth. Him: goddess races’ hero.

Damon recounted it all.

Mostly.

Sensitive bits omitted.

"You... how do you keep pulling this off?" she whispered.

"Pulling what off?" Damon countered.

Seras shut her eyes, squeezing her nose bridge.

Everything.

Humans, elves, dragons—foes galore. He should’ve perished countless times, yet persisted.

Thriving.

"Never mind," she grumbled.

"What intel on the Snake Temple?"

Damon negated with a head shake.

"Zero yet. Just that Trace holds multiple Ashcroft fragments. Snake Temple’s collecting them for the tournament victor."

Seras paused thoughtfully.

"Sorry, Damon, new orders. Your feat’s unprecedented. Maintain that cover. You’re our sole deep-cover agent."

She breathed out steadily.

"I’ll brief High Command; we’ll plan next steps. Stay safe, alright?"