My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger - Chapter 775

Chapter 775: Chapter 776: A New Riddle
“Victory is an endless nightmare, defeat is the moment of wake.”

The words drifted through Damon’s mind like a whisper that refused to fade. They had been the Unknown God’s last message delivered through the system when Damon first awakened in this strange prison.

What if the Nightmare of Lazarak was exactly what the name claimed to be. A dream. A nightmare trapped within a nightmare.

“This is the most realistic dream I have ever seen…” Damon murmured as he lifted his hand and watched how the light reflected along the glossy floor.

He shifted his stance, his weight moving from one leg to the other as he tried to ground himself in this place.

“What if we die here. And how do we escape this dream…” he asked softly.

Matia raised her hand slightly, the movement slow and deliberate. Her eyes did not blink.

“It is also possible that we are in the past. Waton had the time attribute. He died, but what if he was only meant to be a sacrifice.”

Her tone remained cold and impassive, yet her gaze sharpened as she spoke.

“The phrase Nightmare of Lazarak might be figurative. If we take it too literally, we might put ourselves in danger.”

Damon rubbed his thumb across his palm, thinking the same thought but unwilling to voice it first.

“Let us assume for a moment that it is a nightmare. How do we escape it.”

Matia’s silence stretched for several seconds. Her hands curled and uncurled once, a sign she had no answer but was running through possibilities.

“The Unknown God really loves his riddles…” Damon muttered.

He rose to his feet, brushing mirror dust from the knees of Ghost’s armor. His boots scraped lightly against the ground, echoing in the quiet hall.

The Unknown God was cruel when it came to tests like this. No matter how wise you were, he found a way to twist your understanding. He had trapped the Keeper of False Truth in Lysithara for thousands of years with nothing but a riddle that was painfully simple in hindsight.

This could easily be one of those traps. A mind game woven into a place that felt real enough to bleed in.

But clues existed here. Small, subtle, and just barely visible if he paid attention.

“Alright, just between the two of us, our priority is finding anyone else from our time.”

He clasped his hands lightly together, grounding himself.

“It is either a dream or the past. Those seem to be our only options for now.”

Matia nodded slowly. Her armor shifted with the movement, the ice frosting under her breath.

Time travel or a dream. Both absurd, but with a god involved neither could be dismissed.

“Should we proceed to the next trial…” she asked softly.

Damon nodded.

“Yes. But first I want to try something.”

His eyes slid to the sleeping Mirror Seraph. The creature lay curled upon itself, its body cracked in several places. Its wings were folded tightly, trembling every few breaths as if even sleep caused it pain.

Damon stepped toward it, lowering himself beside the glassy torso. He reached out and let his fingers trace the reflective surface.

“I believe it is time for a little wardrobe change, do you not think.”

With those words he let his soul slip from Ghost’s body. It was like stepping out of a warm cloak into a freezing storm. The familiar chill of the world rejecting his discarnate form clamped around him.

He did not rush. He focused on his breathing, even though he had no lungs in this form. The Mirror Seraph twitched as he moved his soul-laden fingers in steady circles around its head, drawing thin soul threads with the Soul Conduit skill.

The threads wove themselves into a gentle net around the creature’s mind. It trembled but the serenity forced upon it crushed any instinct to resist. Its will had been drowned by Lazarak’s authority.

Peace had replaced struggle, and peace surrendered easily to Damon’s mental domination.

He slowly pushed forward and seeped into the Mirror Seraph’s body. The transition was smooth and eerily quiet.

A moment of stillness passed. Then its long, slender fingers unfurled across the ground as Damon tested the body from within.

He raised an arm. The movement caught at least three different angles in his vision. He blinked and saw dozens of mirrored reflections of the room overlapping with each other.

“Hmmm… this body is strange.”

His own body could see in a three hundred and sixty degree arc. This, however, felt like looking through countless shards of glass that each gave him a different angle. A kaleidoscope of perception much like his own but different.

He stood with slow movements, adjusting to the weight. His wings flared out weakly. A painful shock pulsed through his chest, followed by a heavy pressure that pressed down on him like an invisible mountain.

That weight came from everywhere. The world itself was pushing on the Mirror Seraph, trying to crush or reject it.

This was different from the pressure he felt possessing Ghost or using his own form. The Mirror Seraph was far too powerful, and the world wanted it gone.

He felt that power, sealed tightly beneath the suppressive force. The energy within this form belonged to the realm of the sixth class advancement.

Lazarak approached quickly, his expression twisted with concern.

“Are you insane. You tried to possess something far more powerful than you. Your soul could have been destroyed.”

Damon smiled inside the glassy face and waved a shimmering hand lazily.

“Look, no one is home. The Seraph is submissive.”

Lazarak pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Because of my authority. That body is easy to control now, but you will not be able to use it freely. And we cannot risk the Mirror Seraph dying. Seraph Null will know something is wrong.”

“I know. But this increases our odds for the Trial of Sin. Who knows, the warden of the next trial might even let me pass.”

Lazarak scoffed, shaking his head.

“That is never happening. The wardens of the trials are prisoners too. No one comes in and no one leaves.”

Damon ignored his worry and let out a quiet chuckle.

“Relax. I am a death seeker. It is what I do.”

Lazarak’s face drained of color.

“Those are not comforting words. I am more worried than before.”

Damon lifted the Mirror Seraph’s head slightly to look at him. The creature’s face barely changed, but Damon’s voice carried an amused lilt.

He did not know if Lazarak was even real.

“It will not be as bad as you imagine.”

The mirror body began to shift, reshaping itself. Cracks sealed. Wings folded tightly. The entire form grew more humanoid, making it easier for Damon to move naturally.

He nodded toward Lazarak.

“Let us go. The Trial of Sin awaits.”

Lazarak followed with another long sigh.

“You are truly suicidal, my friend.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”