My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger

Chapter 966: Chapter 967: An Offer From The Demon God

There was no response from the book.

For a long moment it lay still on the table, its pages unmoving, as if whatever presence inhabited it had suddenly vanished.

Then the book slowly rose into the air.

The pages did not turn.

Instead, new words began to appear, forming themselves across the paper as if reality itself were writing them.

“Why would you think an absolute entity would be bound by any rules?”

The words appeared slowly.

Deliberately.

“I create the rules.”

Sylvia shook her head. Her face had gone pale. Her heart thundered in her chest and her hands trembled as she tried her best to hide the fear she knew he had already seen through.

“If that is the case,” she said, her voice unsteady, “you wouldn’t be seeking the Pillar of Conflict so desperately. You wouldn’t spend untold years plotting, and you wouldn’t be making a deal with an ant like me.”

She held her breath as soon as the words left her mouth, waiting.

The silence stretched.

Then the ink shifted.

“Verily, you are correct.”

“There are rules.”

The words appeared slowly, almost thoughtfully.

“However, that does not mean I cannot break them.”

“Think of it much like the rules mortals establish. They cannot restrict your free will without physical violence or the fear of it.”

“So to gods… breaking rules is quite simple.”

“We merely do not follow them.”

The book suddenly fell silent.

A long trail of dots slowly appeared across the page.

…

Sylvia felt her skin crawl as she stared at them.

Then the writing continued.

“While you can break the rules… you risk being removed from the convenient system that brings a semblance of order to beings who can treat reality and the omniverse as if it were a child’s game of make believe.”

The words continued appearing without pause.

The Unknown God clearly did not care what she thought.

“It is for this reason that I have not simply created the Pillars myself.”

“I assure you, it is not a difficult process.”

“In fact, it would be easier than snapping my fingers.”

Sylvia read the words quietly.

“Then you need me.”

The page remained still for a moment.

Then a single word appeared.

“Perhaps…”

Sylvia frowned.

“Then why would you think I would betray Damon?”

The answer appeared instantly.

“Because you love him.”

The words seemed heavier this time.

“I know too well the anguish of loving someone.”

“And I know the exquisite pain of their betrayal.”

“Tell me, Sylvia… would you truly condemn him to such a fate when you could make the choice yourself?”

“Would you allow him to suffer when you could simply decide otherwise?”

Sylvia went quiet.

Her hands trembled slightly.

When she spoke again her voice was low.

“What if I say no?”

“Nothing happens.”

The words appeared calmly.

“As I have said, it is a choice. An agreement between us.”

“Just as I have given you vast knowledge… it is an exchange.”

Sylvia lowered her gaze to the page.

She understood one thing clearly.

Fate was a choice.

But what the Unknown God had not explained was something deeper.

Fate was the emergent outcome of countless wills interacting.

No single will could easily change the result.

One will could not overcome the collective.

For a brief moment the page remained blank.

Then new words appeared.

“Except if that will is powerful enough.”

Sylvia’s breath caught.

He had read her mind again.

“Fine,” she said slowly. “What is your offer… and what must I do?”

“A very simple task.”

“A very small matter.”

“If you do this for me… I will do one thing for you.”

She gritted her teeth.

“What do you want?”

“The will of the omniverse is the collective of all things.”

“And in accordance with my singular rule…”

The next line appeared more slowly.

“There are no absolutes.”

“For this self imposed rule there must always be balance.”

“Just as there is balance within my own nature.”

Then suddenly the words changed.

The ink darkened.

Turning a deep red that glowed faintly like fresh blood beneath the page.

Sylvia felt a chill crawl up her spine.

“I am the singular most powerful entity in all of existence.”

“In every reality.”

“In every thought.”

“In every dream.”

“In every form of expression that has ever existed or will ever exist.”

“You could not imagine anything more powerful than I.”

“You could not create anything greater than I.”

“You could invent a character with an arsenal designed specifically to surpass me… and I would still be more powerful.”

The words continued forming.

“I would still win.”

Then the writing stopped.

The pause came so suddenly that Sylvia leaned forward slightly.

It lasted several long seconds.

When the text resumed, the tone had changed.

“Yet…”

“While I possess the power to win every battle…”

“When the dust settles…”

“I often find myself the loser of the war.”

“While my power is absolute… the outcomes are often unsatisfactory.”

The red words dimmed slightly.

“Thus…”

“I defer to the rules.”

Sylvia frowned in confusion.

How could that be possible?

How could someone so powerful still lose?

If even imagination could not surpass him, then how could the outcome ever turn against him?

The answer appeared immediately.

“Yes.”

“That is precisely the problem.”

“The outcome never favors me.”

“Even with my power.”

The book grew still again.

Then the final line appeared slowly.

“And that… brings me to what I want from you.”

“Fate is a choice, and choice is born from will. No single will can overcome the collective… thus man cannot overcome fate. It should be so.”

The words formed slowly across the page.

“However… there are moments. Rare moments. Moments when a single wish—one desire—burns fiercely enough to push against the will of the omniverse itself.”

The ink deepened as the sentence finished.

“That is what the will of the omniverse truly is. The collective of all things.”

Sylvia frowned as she read.

As far as she knew, the Will of the Omniverse was the ancient voice one heard upon ascending to a new class. It was the voice that judged them, named them, acknowledged their growth. They had always called it the Will of the World.

Perhaps its scale was simply greater than they had imagined.

But why was the Unknown God mentioning it?

The book continued writing.

“A short while ago, by your world’s reckoning of time, one entity’s will overcame doom herself. The will of an insect overcame the Goddess of Doom… and called upon me.”

Sylvia stiffened.

“A single choice that overcame the emergent will of existence. From his tears he moved the will of the omniverse… and created something you now call the Lake of Tears.”

Sylvia’s eyes widened slightly. A short while ago was three hundred thousand years ago.

Was he talking about Lazarak?

“Yes,” the book answered, the letters forming before she even finished the thought.

“That minor god defied fate with his actions. It was he who called me here… through the Lake of Tears.”

Sylvia’s throat tightened.

“Then you—”

“Yes.”

The response appeared instantly.

“The will of the omniverse prevents me from interfering with the Lake of Tears. Not without consequences.”

The next words appeared slowly.

“Consequences such as… the complete destruction of your world.”

A faint line appeared beneath the sentence, as if emphasizing the point.

“Being too powerful is often a curse.”

Sylvia bit her lip.

Her mind was racing now.

“Knowing his defiant nature,” the book continued calmly, “I suspect he is already plotting to use the Lake of Tears against me.”

He.

In this case there was only one person he could mean.

Damon.

Sylvia’s fingers curled slightly.

So that was it.

That was what the Unknown God wanted.

The next sentence appeared on the page.

“Destroy the Lake of Tears.”

Sylvia’s hands trembled.

Her eyes flickered across the words again and again as if hoping they would change.

They did not.

Slowly, her head began to shake.