My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger
Chapter 494 - 496: They're Sort Of Dead

Damon watched as the ice spread from Matia's sword into the struggling body of Saladirel. The elf tried to scream… but no sound came out.

A black aura bled from Matia's form, swirling like dark mist. Damon's severed arm — the one Matia still held — dissolved into shadow, sinking into Saladirel's body.

At that moment, Damon felt it — his shadow energy drained from him… siphoned into Matia… then funneled into the form of the elf.

There was a brief pause… and then Saladirel gasped. His eyes rolled back… and closed.

He was dead.

But Damon didn't hear any system notification.

The air turned ice cold. The shadows thickened. Saladirel's shadow rose from the ground… devouring his corpse as it tore free from the ice.

The shadow condensed, molding itself into a solid form.

An orb fell from the corpse's chest with a soft thud — Damon barely spared it a glance.

Before him stood a creature wrapped in pitch-black armor. Its skin glistened like inky oil, its form hazy like a living shadow.

Then — a soft chime echoed.

[Your Shadow Ruin Fairy has created a Shadow.]

Damon blinked.

Right… she could do that. She had the ability to create minions.

But this… this was different.

This shadow wasn't like the others — this one was on her level.

A minion in the same rank.

He glanced toward Matia. She staggered, collapsing to her knees for a moment before slowly rising.

The shadow of Saladirel…

He was nothing like Matia. She still resembled her human self with minor changes pale skin, altered eyes, darker hair… subtle shifts.

But Saladirel…

His skin was jet black, his eyes glowing a fierce blue. Tendrils of shadow smoke curled off his body.

Matia examined him like a craftsman judging her own creation. She gave Damon a look… waiting.

He cleared his throat. "Ahem… right, right…"

Damon circled the shadow, inspecting him. Then he stood directly before him.

"Whom do you serve?"

The shadow raised its head slightly.

Then, a single word echoed — not spoken, but heard in Damon's mind.

"Grey."

Damon nodded. "I like him. We're keeping him."

Matia gave a slight nod of approval.

Damon activated his [Appraisal].

Name: —

Race: Shadow

Rank: Three

Attribute: Shadow / Ice

Skills:

[Death Mark] — Marks a target, allowing him to track them endlessly. As a shadow, he becomes known to all shadows the target touches. The mark steadily drains the target's life force over time.

[Wraith Walker] — Moves like a wraith, undetectable in both shadow and ice storms. The power of this skill grows stronger the deeper he is in darkness.

[Thousand Thorns] — Fires countless shadow arrows in a single storm-like volley. The stronger he is, the more arrows he can unleash — until it feels like the sky itself is falling.

Damon glanced at Matia. At this point, she could no longer keep up the façade — she was weakened by creating this shadow.

But his power was the real deal.

As for a name, this shadow didn't have a name.

Damon glanced at him.

"You are now Saladirel — Ghost of the Glades. We shall call you Ghost for short."

It slowly fell to its knees.

Damon glanced at Matia — his shadow wasn't doing so hot.

"Hmmm… I wonder what the condition is to create shadows… I noticed you used my arm and still siphoned shadow energy from me."

She tried to force herself to stand up — he waved his hand. His shadow pulled her down. She disappeared into his shadow space.

She could heal and rest there.

He glanced at Ghost.

"Come."

The shadow didn't move.

Damon's eyes twitched. He glanced at where Matia had just disappeared. Could it be he couldn't command this shadow without her there?

He shook his head. Impossible. Wouldn't that be useless?

He raised his hand.

"Come." He commanded — except this time he used [Shadow Control] as well.

As soon as he spoke, the shadow obeyed.

Damon didn't like the idea of using shadow control every time… though, he did not get drained of shadow energy at all.

That's a plus.

He gave a command.

"Obey me."

Ghost nodded, bowing his head.

"Good."

Damon glanced at this shadow.

Matia had encountered different enemies in their travels. She never tried turning any into shadows.

What made this one so special?

"Is it because he has an ice attribute?"

That couldn't be the case. There were more than a few elves here with that attribute.

Damon groaned, looking at his arm that was slowly regenerating.

"Don't tell me I have to lose a limb every time she makes one of these."

He gritted his teeth.

'I better not be an ingredient in shadow production.'

As Damon was thinking, a squirrel and a raven flew out of the forest with excited cries. It seemed they had quite the haul.

Except their haul was elf eyeballs… and their nuts.

They landed on the new shadow and examined him while, in no uncertain words, letting him know there was a hierarchy — and they were on top.

Ghost gave no reaction — only standing there, giving off the aura of cold and shadow.

He sighed. At least they were useful this time.

Snapping his fingers, he glanced at Ghost.

"Go find me a mount."

The elves had a few stag mounts when they began hunting him. He was too hurt and tired to walk.

Besides… it was a long journey.

When he turned around, the shadow was gone — it had disappeared to fulfill its orders.

Damon looked around, picking up any magic artifacts he missed and devouring the ones he didn't like for attribute points.

He walked up to the orb that had fallen from the body of the elf Saladirel — who was now a minion of his shadow.

Small world, really. One moment you're an elf assassin… next you're serving your target.

Just as Damon was about to throw the orb at his shadow…

It flashed a little… then vibrated.

Damon paused. This was a communication orb.

He hesitated a bit… but figured he might as well let the elves know he was very alive… and very disappointed they had failed to kill him.

He poured a little mana into it.

A voice came before he could speak.

"Report. What is your situation?"

Damon paused. This was the gentle voice of a woman… but it was a bit stern at the moment.

It had a regal tone to it. This was the voice of someone in power.

"Ahem… ahem…" Damon cleared his throat. Goddess… he was in the presence of royalty.

"This is the target. Erm… they're sort of dead."

There was a small moment of silence. Damon was unsure why — maybe she was surprised… or just taking a moment to register the audacity.

"Damon Grey… I take it?"

Damon smiled.

"I don't know… whose asking?"

There was brief silence at the manner of speaking. Damon had intentionally spoken like someone from the underworld.

Actually… he spent his childhood there.

Her voice returned.

"I am Daphne Moonveil…"

A soft intake of breath.

"Queen of the Moon Glades."