My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 988 - 990: A Small Sign

Lord Fayjoy revealed every detail he knew to Luna, but as she moved away from him, it felt like they had learned absolutely nothing. She had only listened to a father fiercely shielding his son's reputation.

As they departed the manor, the light rain had swelled into a heavy downpour. Ominous clouds churned darkly above, while the courtyard pavement gleamed slickly beneath the relentless shower.

The lord suggested they stay the night, but Luna refused with a courteous nod of her head. After his words, she had no desire to remain longer.

Within the carriage, Iris remained silent as rain streaked unevenly across the glass pane.

"I heard Lord Fayjoy was a womanizer with many concubines and illegitimate children. I just didn’t think he’d take such a firm stance for his son."

Luna stayed quiet for a moment.

She attempted once more to envision her father's features.

The image appeared hazy.

Whenever she strained to remember the man constantly practicing his sword swings, that vision faded, overtaken by the sharp recollection of her brother.

She recalled her father being gentle. A decent person. That much she understood.

"That’s what a father is..." Luna whispered finally. "Grandfather once told me no matter what, you can never understand how deep the bond between a parent and child goes."

Iris dipped her head a bit, her mind wandering to her own father.

The carriage raced down the wide street, overtaking a lengthy line of troops advancing through the rain.

Luna's eyes fixed on them via the rain-streaked window.

"I miss my father, Iris," she breathed softly.

A brief silence followed.

"I miss my mother too... I hate that they’re dead. I hate that I can’t do anything about it..."

Her words broke even in their gentle tone.

Iris looked over at her. Luna’s gray eyes stayed glued to the window, faraway and vacant. She never anticipated hearing such vulnerability from Luna.

"My mother... I didn’t forget what she looked like. There are portraits of her all over the Brightwater estate. My grandfather even has a shrine for her." Luna gulped. "But my father... he’s gone. I don’t have a single image. I don’t even remember what his face looks like anymore."

Iris paused, uncertain how to respond. She struggled with emotional matters like this. She favored challenges she could confront directly.

"I’m sorry," she murmured.

Luna offered a weak smile and shook her head.

"It’s fine. It doesn’t bother me as much anymore. I have my brother... and I know he will never betray me."

Her gaze returned to the soldiers beyond, now joined by mercenaries displaying the Fayjoy emblem.

"These must be part of the third wave," Luna noted, nibbling her lower lip. "Which means the fighting must have already started."

Her fingers clenched lightly on her gown.

"My brother is there fighting. I’m... I’m scared he could die. And then I’ll be all alone..."

Iris stretched over the narrow gap and grasped her hand.

"This Damon you keep talking about... he’ll live. I’m sure of it."

Luna managed a faint smile and shifted the subject on purpose.

"Where do you think they’ll take us for the end-of-semester evaluation?"

Iris picked up the cue and went with it.

"Maybe the front lines. We might see Damon. Or maybe we’ll get thrown into the page program."

Luna chuckled lightly at the idea. Ridiculous.

Still, considering the academy, it wasn't out of the question.

"Haha... I bet my brother is busy killing demons..."

Her mirth died away swiftly.

"You do realize it’s not easy... He’s fighting. I know it’s dangerous. Bloody."

Luna pressed a hand to her heart and inclined her head.

"Goddess, please keep my brother safe."

During her prayer, a subtle glow flickered along her arm, bearing a gentle divine essence that vanished as silently as it emerged.

*****

On some part of the demon continent, Damon shoved a massive platter of seafood aside with just two fingers, his face showing mild annoyance.

"This lobster is too buttery... and this damn steak is too juicy."

He flicked his hand casually.

"Bring me some tamberry cakes."

His attire was exquisitely fitted, hair impeccably arranged, the chamber chilled by multiple layers of air-conditioning spells humming faintly nearby.

Lovely women hovered close by, watchful and hushed.

Towering balrogs lined the room's edges, their fiery spears throwing dancing shadows over the glossy floor as they stood motionless, ready for his command.

This routine had defined his last month.

In demon lands, Damon reigned like royalty.

No assaults dared target his tower. Fellow tower lords stayed eerily silent. Additional towers fell under control across the region, but none challenged him.

Monsters, demons, and demonkin continued streaming into the city in endless streams, eager to serve the fresh overlords if they showed potential.

All others hustled to enlist followers.

Damon lifted not a finger.

He secluded himself within his tower.

However, his tower's immense scale demanded attention.

Numerous demons rejected every offer and instead gathered beyond his territory, opting to linger.

The cause was straightforward.

On the demon continent, strength ruled supreme.

And controlling a tower this grand meant possessing unfathomable might. Glimpses of balrogs guarding the borders sufficed to persuade them.

’At this rate, I can take over Trace easily,’ Damon mused, reclining in his chair.

These demons knew nothing of him.

He remained a mystery.

That mystery drew them in.

He displayed might without revealing his face.

The enigmatic inspired dread.

It mirrored the Unknown God.

The less known he stayed, the more fearsome he loomed. But as Damon uncovered more about him, the god seemed more mortal... and far less intimidating.

He remained daunting, undoubtedly.

Yet Damon now perceived his true essence.

A recognized enigma.