Chapter 836 - 837: Finesse

In a luxurious underground chamber directly beneath the city, Damon sat cross-legged atop thick carpets, holding a man’s heart in one hand. His expression was irritated, brow faintly furrowed.

"Ahhh... ahh"

He flicked his wrist and tossed the heart toward Lazarak with an annoyed scowl.

"I still don’t get it. I can’t stand this shit. How is modifying a soul so hard?"

The exasperation in his voice almost made Lazarak laugh. Instead, he merely smiled.

"It takes a great deal of finesse to modify a soul," Lazarak replied calmly. "I assume you weren’t the one who modified Matia’s soul."

Damon leaned back, letting himself sink into the soft carpets beneath him.

"No," he said flatly. "I had help from a true god. No wonder she’s so perfect."

Lazarak glanced at Matia.

She subconsciously lowered her head, clearly flustered despite trying not to show it.

"What about Ghost?" Lazarak asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

Damon exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple as a dull headache crept in.

"My arm got ripped off, so Matia created him. As for the conditions..." He paused, annoyed. "Apparently she just did it. Said it ’came to her.’"

Matia bowed her head slightly.

"I’m sorry," she said quietly. "I really can’t recreate those conditions as I am now. Perhaps if I reached the fourth or fifth class..."

Hearing her voice, Damon shook his head.

"It’s fine," he said firmly. "No need to trouble yourself over it."

Lazarak turned away, his attention shifting to Lyn and Sithara as they carefully etched glowing magic seals around the massive cocoon taken from Eidolon.

"What are you doing with that thing anyway?" Damon asked, glancing toward it. "You made us haul it all the way from Eidolon’s lowest depths."

He had a point.

As far as Damon knew, the thing was a calamity waiting to happen, a creature-race that devoured endlessly and birthed offspring in response, forming hive-minded swarms whose forms depended on what they consumed. A species with a history of nearly destroying everything before the lesser gods intervened.

Lazarak sighed deeply, a heavy frown forming.

"I’m trying to hatch it."

Damon raised an eyebrow, wincing slightly.

"And I’m the crazy one."

Lazarak shook his head.

"That’s not the crazy part."

He met Damon’s gaze directly.

"The crazy part is figuring out how to turn this thing into your shadow. Otherwise, even if we hatch it, we can’t control it. Taming such a monstrosity is impossible."

Damon’s eyes narrowed.

"So that’s why you took it," he said slowly. "You thought I could turn it into a shadow. That explains your sudden interest in my ability to create them."

He crossed his arms, exhaling.

"How far back did you plan this? Or was it a spur-of-the-moment decision?"

Lazarak’s voice lowered.

"At the rate you’re progressing, we’ll be ready in a decade or two. That’s acceptable."

Damon crossed his arms tighter, faintly offended.

"I’ll have you know that for me it’s been less than two years since I got this attribute. I grew three ranks in a few months. Just because I haven’t mastered it yet doesn’t mean I’m slow, these things take years."

Lazarak nodded.

"Yes, no doubt you’re a prodigy. But it’s not enough with the dangers we’re facing."

He placed a small hand over his chest still trapped in the form of a five-year-old.

"That’s why I’ll help you. Create your most powerful shadow. You had help from a god before, why not now?"

Damon stood, his attention fixing on the cocoon wrapped in shimmering seals.

"You’re serious..."

Lazarak nodded.

"Yes. We need numbers. Even though we’ve taken a significant portion of the Grinding Gate, they’re still too weak to matter in the larger picture."

His tone hardened.

"And Seraph Null is only the first of our enemies. If we leave this world, my brother is one of the ones we will face, far worse than this."

His gaze drifted toward a small lake at the far corner of their base.

"I would prefer not to rely on whatever I can call upon from the Lake of Tears," he said quietly. "But I admit, it’s a useful trump card when cornered."

He bit his lip.

"We need every weapon. Every scheme. Every plot. I’m willing to stop at nothing."

"Except actually killing people yourself," Damon cut in with a snide grin.

Lazarak smiled.

"That’s why I have you."

Damon crossed his arms again.

"Feeding that thing will be a pain. Not to mention hatching it. And it’ll be annoying if it takes decades to grow."

Lazarak waved a hand dismissively.

"Leave the small details to me. And from the looks of it, one of our people has just placed a brand."

Damon smiled.

"Quick, play the prerecorded message."

"Way ahead of you," Lazarak replied, laughing as he felt the surge of new followers.

Moments later, a man was teleported into the hidden base from somewhere within the city. The instant he appeared, he dropped to one knee before Damon.

"My lord. The mission is complete. This is the location of the Black Crow leader."

Damon accepted the paper, opening it casually.

"Good," he said. "With this, we can eliminate any loose ends and solidify our foundation in the Grinding Gate."

Lazarak crossed his arms, studying him.

"You’re surprisingly effective at this. I can’t believe we made this much progress in just a few days and you never even left this place."

Damon glanced at the information broker, the only person who knew their base’s location.

It had been easy.

Between the man, Ghost, and Damon’s shadow, he never needed to move himself. Possessing Ghost handled the dirty work. After that, it was simply killing some, coercing others, bribing a few with mana cores, and making promises.

"I see," Damon muttered. "That Black Crow should’ve taken my offer."

His smile sharpened.

"Guess I’ll have to kill him now."

He stretched his shoulders slightly.

"I haven’t left this place in a while. Might be good to stretch."

He glanced at Matia, who immediately stepped forward.

Then Damon smiled at the information broker.

"Lead the way."