My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Life was truly a mysterious thing…

One moment, you were out and about collecting nuts—living your best life.

Just honest testicle harvesting. Not hurting anybody.

It wasn't much, but it was honest work.

Sure, your neighbor—the Evil Forest Wendigo—had just lost all three of her asexually produced offspring to some heartless baby killer, but that had nothing to do with you.

You were just minding your business.

Yes, the world was a horrible place. Yes, monsters lurked at every corner. But that didn't concern a humble squirrel just trying to survive. You were about honest living.

Squeal squeal.

Then—bam. Some fiend showed up.

Didn't chase. Didn't fly. No fair warning.

Just poof—appeared out of the shadows and grabbed you.

What kind of dishonorable scum teleports next to an innocent squirrel?

You'd gotten cocky, thought no one could catch you.

Why did the goddess hate good, honest work?

Squeal…

What god had you wronged?

After today, you swore—you'd change. No more evil nuts. Only ethical nuts. Mind your business. Stay low. Never trust a talking bird again.

But honestly, what hurt most?

That hateful, smug bird eating your hard-earned collection. The stash you'd risked everything for.

Did it know how many enemies you made just to collect those precious testicles? How many beasts you'd snuck past or stolen from?

And here it was—munching.

No wonder it was gone for so long. It had been working with the shadow fiend.

Traitor.

So when the shadow bastard asked where the Wendigo went?

The Scarlet Squirrel didn't hesitate.

It pointed. It told him everything. Even some things it didn't need to say. If it could've drawn a map, it would've done that too.

This was the Evil Forest. It was every monster for itself.

It betrayed the Wendigo without blinking.

Damon, of course, could barely make sense of it. The squirrel's speech was… chaotic.

It was like someone used to speaking formal grammar encountering a caveman on an energy drink high.

To him it was basically speaking broken.

He understood just enough.

He squeezed the squirrel in his palm.

"Thanks for the directions… your reward—I'll spare your life. But the nuts… go."

He smiled gently.

Then a flicker of darkness danced from his fingertips.

Black, shadow-like flames erupted, consuming the tree hollow entirely.

The squirrel screamed—clutching its head in disbelief.

It staggered up to the scorched hole, staring into the ashes.

Even the bird stepped aside.

Dead look. Eyes full of tears.

It collapsed to its knees.

A long, pitiful squeal escaped its throat before it lay still.

Damon almost felt bad.

He cleared his throat.

"Ahem… sorry about that. It's just… you have a weird fetish. But, uh, thanks for the info. Let's never meet again."

Croft, perched nearby, looked at the squirrel with mild pity.

Personally, he had no testicles, so he didn't really see the big deal. But still… nuts?

Really?

Clearly eyeballs were superior.

He watched as Damon teleported away without a word.

As Damon's trusted pet, Croft figured he had to offer some form of apology on his master's behalf.

So, he cawed.

And then cawed some more.

Bragging, mostly.

About how he'd tamed Damon. How he was the real brains behind this revenge operation. How Damon once shot him down from the sky, but he'd returned stronger, better—and now lived rent-free on Damon's shoulder.

He even mentioned how Damon was always killing people. How he got to feast on their premium-quality eyeballs.

Sure, he ran a few errands. But what kind of good pet didn't?

This was the life… yes he had tamed a human… no a fiend.

The squirrel's eyes twitched.

That cawing—it reignited something.

It stood. Slowly. Eyes gleaming.

It sniffed the air, scanned for the shadow fiend, but only saw the raven.

The traitor.

It turned and leapt from the branch, wings extended—scarlet fur glinting in the light.

An idea had been born.

If Damon had still been around, he would've heard the squirrel mutter the Evil Forest equivalent of:

"An eye for an eye. A nut for a nut."

The squirrel vanished into the forest, a red blur streaking through the trees.

This was the Evil Forest. All the creatures here were monsters.

But it took a special kind of monster to survive being weak.

---

Not that Damon cared.

He wasn't thinking about the squirrel.

Even if it was, admittedly, extremely cute—with large eyes and scarlet fur.

No, he was more disturbed by the idea of it running up someone's pants and biting their—

Yeah. He didn't want to imagine that happening to him.

He took a step—appearing beneath a tree.

A large worm burst from the ground, trying to swallow him whole.

He simply took another step and vanished again.

Didn't have time to kill it.

He stopped on a hill, scanning the distance.

A stone. A few trees. Traces of battle.

His gaze settled on a charred rock etched with deep claw marks.

Wendigo claws.

"It seems you came this way…"

He knelt, running a hand across the ground.

But it was faint.

Too faint.

"Been weeks…"

It wasn't normal for monsters to switch habitats.

Not without reason.

It looked like she'd entered another monster's domain… and killed it.

But didn't stay.

He looked up. The barrier that surrounded the Evil Forest shimmered faintly in the distance.

He dashed forward, using short teleport shadow strides until his shadow energy wore thin.

Then he began running. Leaping. Swinging through the trees with inhuman speed and strength.

Kilometers passed in seconds.

He stopped at the edge.

Trees were broken, but healing.

Blood on the ground. Marks that refused to fade.

The Wendigo had fought here.

Damon followed the signs.

The tracks led right up to the barrier.

And slammed into it.

Over and over.

Deep gashes. Dents.

She had tried to break out.

Beyond that barrier lay the road to Valtheron. The capital city Valerion

He was about to dismiss it… until he saw it.

A footprint.

Solid.

Embedded in stone.

Not beast-like. Not monstrous.

It was a human footprint.

Small. Narrow. Judging by the size…

Female.

Croft landed on his shoulder, eyes narrowed.

Had the Wendigo… taken a human form?

Damon stepped toward the barrier, pressing against it.

He passed through easily.

The squirrel leapt onto his back, slipping through as well.

Damon caught it mid-air.

He squatted down, holding it in his palm.

"Sniff this. Is it the Wendigo?"

The squirrel nodded rapidly. The scent was faint. But it was her.

Damon clicked his tongue and let it go.

This was bad.

His weak enemy had grown.

Powerful.

Taken a human form.

And now, somewhere in this wide world… she walked among them.

He didn't even know what she looked like.

Didn't know her name. If she even had one.

Didn't know how to find her.

A monster among humans.

He clenched his fist.

This wasn't over.

He turned and walked away into the distance.

The nutless squirrel followed silently, its dark eyes filled with purpose.

And Damon?

He only now realized—

He'd made a terrible enemy.