My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 1097: Chapter 1098: In Soltheon

Matia was confused. Slowly, her trembling hand rose toward her helm and she pulled it down from her face, revealing porcelain skin marred by scrapes and streaks of blood. Her breathing was uneven, shallow from exertion. Blood flowed continuously beneath the fractured plates of her armor, dripping steadily down her frame while one leg dragged slightly behind the other with every limping step she took.

Then she turned toward the broken figure of Faldren.

The once proud ruler of this frozen land had been reduced to a gruesome sight.

His body was drenched in blood, deep lacerations carved across his flesh, several ribs torn completely open, leaving his still beating heart horribly exposed for the world to see.

Matia stared at him silently.

"What is this..." she whispered softly.

Faldren raised a trembling hand and began dragging his ruined body across the frozen earth, fingers scraping uselessly against stone as he forced himself forward.

"You have doomed this world... you have doomed us all..."

Matia narrowed her eyes beneath strands of silver hair hanging against her bloodstained face.

She was certain he was not raving like a madman.

There was fear in his voice.

Real fear.

Which meant there was a reason for this reaction.

She stepped toward him before crouching slightly and grabbing the front of his torn clothing, effortlessly lifting the ruler of this land despite his size.

"What is this place. I am not going to ask you again, father."

Faldren stared at her.

His pale lips trembled before he spoke again, voice weaker now, fear woven into every syllable.

"The end is near... the prophecy that heralds our destruction has come..."

He coughed violently.

Blood sprayed from his mouth, staining the frozen floor crimson.

"You have brought ruin upon this world."

Matia did not understand what he was talking about.

But she intended to find out.

Faldren saw the confusion hidden behind her usual taciturn expression.

Even now, even beaten half to death, he found himself laughing.

Matia slowly released him.

He collapsed to one knee, coughing violently as more blood poured from the cavity in his chest.

"This..." He coughed again. "You..."

For several moments he struggled to form words.

Then suddenly he laughed harder.

Blood spilled freely down his chin.

"For generations, the men of our household have kept an ancient oath."

His trembling hand pointed deeper into the underground ruins surrounding them.

"To guard this place."

Matia slowly turned her head.

Her eyes swept over broken stone pillars rising from the earth like ancient gravestones. Dust coated fractured murals worn down by countless centuries. There was nothing here except ruin.

"And this place is..." she muttered quietly. "I see nothing but ruins."

Faldren slowly pushed himself upright, forcing his battered body against one of the ancient pillars.

"It has been foretold..."

His voice became strangely hollow.

"The day a woman of our bloodline steps foot here..."

His eyes trembled.

"The end shall begin, and the world as we know it will face destruction."

Matia remained silent.

Faldren exhaled heavily, leaning more of his weight against the pillar simply to keep himself standing.

"Any woman born into our bloodline was to be killed."

His voice had become distant now.

Like a man reliving memories he wished forgotten.

"It has been so for generations. Every daughter born into our house was executed. My sisters before me... their predecessors before them... all were meant to die."

His eyes drifted upward.

"...except that changed with me."

There was bitterness in his voice now.

"When your sister Leiva was born... I hesitated."

His lips twisted into something between regret and disgust.

"I could not bring myself to kill her."

Then slowly his eyes shifted back toward Matia.

And he smiled.

A hollow broken smile.

"I see it now. My weakness was the reason."

His breathing became ragged.

"If there had been no women of my bloodline..."

He glared at her with absolute hatred.

"...then none of this would have happened."

His jaw clenched violently.

"I should have killed all of you the moment you were born."

Matia simply stared at him.

Cold.

Silent.

Unmoved.

Then she inhaled deeply and allowed him to continue speaking.

"I sealed this place away so no one would ever discover it."

His fingers dug into the pillar.

"So I could bring this barbaric tradition to an end myself."

His expression twisted.

"If only I had done right by my ancestors."

Matia watched him wallow there in regret.

Yet she felt absolutely nothing.

No pity.

No sympathy.

The fact he had spared her at birth was not something deserving gratitude.

He was the reason she existed.

He had brought her into this world.

Her suffering had always been his responsibility.

His failures were his alone.

"Your failures have nothing to do with any of us being women."

Her voice was calm.

Almost indifferent.

Then she stopped walking.

Her eyes had fallen upon one of the murals carved into the ancient walls.

At the center of the mural stood a veiled woman.

The moment Matia looked upon her, something heavy pressed against her mind.

A ruinous aura radiated from the figure itself.

Ancient.

Terrifying.

The woman stood overlooking the entire world.

Nine continents carved crudely into the stone beneath her feet.

Matia narrowed her eyes.

"This is Aetherus..."

Her gaze shifted upward toward the veiled figure.

"...and this is Doom."

She whispered the words instinctively.

Slowly her hand moved across the mural.

She noticed the next carving.

Doom had vanished.

The world remained.

People had appeared.

Gods.

Lesser gods.

Entire civilizations spread across the continents.

Yet there was something else.

Her eyes narrowed.

A massive club.

It had been planted somewhere on the continent of Soltheon.

The carving itself was crude and ancient, but even so its sheer scale was horrifying.

The object was so large it dwarfed entire continents.

Then the next mural.

Matia stared in silence.

People who approached the giant club became consumed by madness.

Entire groups turned upon one another.

Peaceful races slaughtered each other indiscriminately.

Gods fought gods.

Kingdoms burned.

Wars began.

Then more wars.

Then endless wars.

Again.

Again.

Again.

The cycle never ended.

Matia’s cold blue eyes widened slightly.

For perhaps the first time in a very long time...

She looked disturbed.

"This is..."

Her voice became quieter.

"The Pillar of Conflict."

Her gaze remained fixed on the mural.

What else could cause such endless madness?

What else could twist existence itself into perpetual war?

Her fingers slowly traced the continent carved beneath it.

Recognition settled in her mind.

"So it was in Soltheon after all."