My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger
Chapter 406 - 407: I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream

The options were laid bare before him. The choice was clear—it was obvious.

The face stealer limped toward Sylvia. She was unconscious, groaning softly as if struggling to wake, blood pouring from her torn body.

Damon held onto Matia by the edge of the ledge. Her armored hand was slippery with blood, his grip barely keeping her from being pulled down into the void.

'Sylvia… wake up…'

He wanted to yell, to scream at the top of his lungs, to call out for Valarie—still fighting the monster above, unaware of the chaos down here.

But he couldn't.

He had no mouth. His mouth had been stolen.

He had to hold Matia with both hands as the gravitational pull of the rift below threatened to rip her away. The strain burned through his shoulder. He was weakened, poisoned by whatever the face stealer had done.

The white, bipedal creature moved with slow purpose, Damon's own stolen mouth twisted into a grin.

"Ahh… finally. After all these months… I've finally caught you, white elf…"

It spoke with Damon's voice, mockingly gentle, as it neared Sylvia—her eyes fluttering weakly between unconsciousness and pain.

"Let her go, boy…"

"You can't save them both."

"Can I? Can I have to?" Damon screamed these words in his mind, but he knew the cruel truth: he couldn't.

It wasn't possible to pull Matia up, and still save Sylvia from the face stealer.

He would never make it on time if he stayed to help. Matia, the face stealer, would kill Sylvia and then finish off both offspring at its leisure.

"Let the girl go.. "

He shook his head violently; he wanted to scream, but he had no mouth.

Despair settled in his heart as his mind buzzed with options and alternatives.

"If you hold on they will both die.."

Carmen's voice echoed inside Damon's skull. Tears welled in his eyes. He didn't want to—he couldn't.

No. No.

But he had no mouth to cry that word.

He looked down at Matia—the fairy who had given up her wings to save him.

If she still had them, she could've flown out. But she didn't. She had sacrificed them… for him.

She stared into the abyss below.

"Le… let me go, Damon…"

Hearing her say those words only deepened his despair; he shook his head desperately.

Tears spilled freely down his face. He shook his head violently, as if that alone could defy the world.

"Let go…"

Beside him, the phantom of Back-to-Back loomed—glaring at Sylvia with panic and urgency.

"Hurry, hurry! Let one go. Let Matia go… you'll never pull her up in time!"

The rift's pull grew stronger, ripping at Damon's arms.

Tears mixed with his blood.

The face stealer reached Sylvia, just in time for her to open her eyes—only to have her head smashed back into the stone. The floor cracked. She groaned.

It pinned her down, gripping her bloodied face, fingers pressing.

Stealing her eyes.

Suddenly, the creature had gray eyes.

Sylvia wailed, kicking weakly as she tried to push the creature off.

Damon could hear her scream; his grip slipped slightly.

"Damon… let go… you have to save Sylvia!"

Matia could hear her. She saw Damon's eyes. She tried to pull herself up—but it was no use. The rift had her now.

"Stop wasting time!" Carmen snapped again. "You can't be in two places at once! The others won't make it in time!"

The face stealer tore Sylvia's nose off next.

She screamed, barely able to breathe through her blood-choked mouth.

Matia gazed up at Damon, her vision blurry with blood.

"Please… let me go, Dam… Damon…"

He shook his head, staring at Sylvia. Matia jerked her body, trying to make the decision easier for him—trying to fall.

She bit her lip, tears falling.

"I'm sorry…"

Damon heard Sylvia scream again—then fade.

He closed his eyes. His Remorseless skill had been screaming at him for a while now.

He lowered his forehead to the cold ground… and let go.

Her hand slipped from his grasp.

He tried to scream. He tried to call her name.

But he had no mouth.

All his rage—all his sorrow—collapsed into a single, focused madness.

And he charged the face stealer.

Sylvia thrashed, trying to fight back, but the creature's strength overwhelmed her.

Damon's fist slammed into its face.

Blood sprayed—he didn't know if it was his or the creature's.

He tried to scream. To roar.

But there was only silence. His tears burned as they fell. His fists clawed and crushed the face stealer. It fought back, stabbing and bludgeoning him.

But Damon didn't feel it.

All he heard was the madness inside:

Kill. Kill. Kill.

There was no finesse now. No swordplay. No tactics. No magic.

Only rage.

Only aura.

His power surged—flames pouring from his broken form.

Even Ashborn's agony was meaningless now.

His fists were shrouded in black fire, encased in cracked shadow-armor, as he pummeled the ground.

Blood soaked everything.

The more he raged, the more of his shadow energy burned away.

The ground splintered beneath them. His tears mixed with blood.

He strangled the face stealer. It thrashed. A magic artifact pierced him.

It pulled free, staggering back.

Damon reached into his shadow storage.

Pulled a potion.

He had no mouth—so he poured the liquid into his nose.

The potion spilled down his throat.

Precognition.

What followed was pure carnage.

A system chime echoed in his mind.

He didn't care.

His Hunger spiked—his stats flaring.

The face stealer lunged.

Damon moved faster.

Grabbed its arm. Slammed it into the ground.

Then tore it off.

He jammed his hand into its stolen mouth.

And pulled.

The creature struggled.

It was in vain.

With both hands, Damon ripped its upper and lower jaw apart. Bone cracked. Flesh split. Blood gushed out in torrents.

The creature shrieked in his stolen voice until there was nothing left but shredded remains.

A final chime.

[You have slain: Fuska, the Face Stealer]

[You have leveled up]

[You have awakened the skill: Shadow Clone]