Raising My Trash Ability into a Broken SSS+ Rank Skill Chapter 643 Yawn

Vritra stirred awake with the first light of dawn, but refreshment eluded him as weariness clung even tighter.

He massaged his aching eyes before glancing at his wives, who rested soundly next to him on the bed.

Choosing not to rouse them, he carefully disentangled himself and slipped from the bed.

Once he had bathed, he donned his clothes and resolved to seek out the general.

By that point, the women had all risen as well.

"We'll share breakfast when I return." Vritra announced, spinning around to depart from the tent.

"Pitiful one!" Shitless called out, his form still concealed beneath his garments.

"How much longer do we linger here? It's dragged on for a while already." The monk remarked, appreciating the security of this spot yet mindful of their unfinished task.

"Dragged on? We arrived only yesterday—what's this about?" Vritra questioned, then shifted his gaze to the weary Onest.

Prominent shadows ringed his eyes, giving the impression he hadn't rested in weeks.

"Hey, what's going on with you?" Vritra inquired, astonishment clear in his voice.

"I'm not sure, perhaps some sickness has taken hold—I just feel so drained." He replied, letting out a yawn.

"Diana might assist; have her examine you soon." Vritra suggested, noting that the symptoms didn't appear grave.

Shitless opened his mouth to respond, but Vritra had already pivoted and begun striding toward Peter's tent.

"Anyway, I'll catch up with you shortly." He added.

Reaching the exterior of the general's tent, Vritra spotted two guards stationed at the entryway.

"You're the fellow from yesterday—got a question or two?" One guard inquired.

"I need to speak with the general about a matter—is he in there?" Vritra responded.

"Indeed, I am." The general emerged from the tent precisely then, a smile gracing his features.

"What's on your mind?" Peter asked, already clad in his official attire.

"We can stroll and converse." Vritra indicated.

"Certainly." Peter agreed with a nod, and soon the pair set off toward the base camp's gateway.

"I intend to depart this location today." Vritra declared gravely.

"Ah, that's regrettable—your aid would prove invaluable here, though I respect your choice and won't hinder it." Peter replied.

"Understood. Still, I require a favor: do spare uniforms exist? They'd aid survival beyond these walls." Vritra continued.

Peter posed no queries, chuckling as he affirmed with a nod:

 "No issue at all—it's trivial. We abound in uniforms; claim as many as needed, with options aplenty."

The general guided Vritra to a nearby storage building stocked with attire for diverse roles—not merely army gear, but also air force variants and more.

'Whoa!' Vritra's gaze sparkled as he envisioned his wives in these outfits.

They'd appear utterly alluring.

"Select any you fancy—they're sorted by size." Peter instructed, directing the attending soldiers.

Vritra acknowledged and swiftly gathered multiple sets, ensuring at least one per wife.

In return, he chose to bequeath some provisions, far more than he could consume in years of feasting.

"These will do." He stated, hefting several bags.

"Fine, go ahead. Have a soldier deliver them to your tent—I've matters to review with you." Peter said, rubbing his eyes against encroaching drowsiness.

"I'll link up at the exit; breakfast awaits with my family first." Vritra replied, heading back.

Once out of sight, he stored the uniforms in his inventory, only to halt abruptly.

"Wait, why such a haul of uniforms…?" He'd grabbed merely seventeen or eighteen earlier, yet the pile seemed excessive.

A yawn escaped him, followed by a shrug as he resumed his path.

The group savored breakfast in unison, conversing on assorted topics.

"Master, we head out today, correct?" Maeve queried, her eyelids drooping though sleep evaded her.

"Yes." Vritra confirmed with a nod.

Meal concluded, he lingered briefly before approaching the entrance.

The general stood ready there, outlining a foraging expedition for supplies.

"General, I've arrived—what's the discussion?" Vritra hailed.

"Ah, Adam, join us—you ought to hear this." He beckoned, a map unfurled on the table amid clustered officers.

"We've noted heavy activity in this zone lately, with mutants converging rapidly. A massive assault on our base looms imminent."

Peter detailed from the outset.

"…" Vritra listened quietly to the briefing.

"Should my assessment hold, they'll breach our perimeter in two to three hours at most. Triumph over this surge lets us raid the far structure for untouched rations—that sector remains unplundered by the Wolves or Big Bang Colony." He pressed on.

"Thus, Vritra, should it suit you—" Peter raised his eyes to continue, cut short.

"Wait, w-what name did you utter?" Vritra scowled, his mind reeling, sharp agony inducing vertigo while dread swelled fiercely.

"What's amiss, Adam? Unwell? This end-times chaos twists us all—I carry pills for relief."

Peter regarded him with worry.

Vritra yawned, shaking his head before murmuring: "Nothing serious, just bone-tired… so, continue?"

"I wondered if you'd remain a short while longer to aid against this onslaught—failure spells doom for everyone. Please, lend your strength; the stores are yours as reward." The general pleaded.

"But general, that's—" A soldier objected with a furrow.

"Silence—his power eclipses yours united; we require him." Peter snapped, then faced Vritra.

"I understand; count me in." Vritra agreed, his aim to cull mutants aligning seamlessly anyway.

"Gratitude—if we endure, any request of yours I'll grant." Peter vowed, unveiling his strategy.

…

Two hours passed, positioning Vritra, Shitless, Onest, Peter, and numerous troops atop the perimeter wall.

'What ferocity awaits in this surge to unsettle them so?" Vritra pondered.

His abilities could manage even a vast onslaught.

Shortly, the mutants charged as Peter foresaw.

Primarily feeble zombies, interspersed with formidable variants.

'Ideal—this yields ample sin points."

Vritra mused, forging blood arrows to unleash upon the advancing throng.

Shitless and Onest gripped firearms, firing relentlessly.

{Sin Point Gained: Killed a Mutant +49}

{Sin Point Gained: Killed a Mutant +51}

…

Notifications flooded Vritra's view, spurring him to unleash fully.

He deployed spiritual bursts repeatedly, shattering mutant skulls or dazing the mightier foes.

This horde proved immense indeed.

Other troops unleashed abilities too, hurling ranged assaults.

As foes multiplied, some battered the barrier or scaled it.

Vritra leaped below, carving through them amid ceaseless blood manipulation and spiritual bursts.

The soldiers gaped at his prowess, a relentless slayer amid hordes.

Encircling elites fell regardless to his blade.

Vritra concentrated solely on amassing sin points.

Ere long, mutant ranks thinned sharply, though the clash extended beyond projections.

Time blurred swiftly; dusk had fallen by the mop-up of stragglers.

"My deepest thanks for your aid—without you, survival here seemed uncertain."

The general expressed profusely. Even the troops now eyed him with esteem.

Prior doubts on Peter's faith in Vritra evaporated; his might shone undeniable.

Vritra rejoined the camp, where his wives had readied supper.

The ten dined as one, Vritra recounting the fray.

He'd opted against involving his wives for several causes.

"Hubby, with safety restored, we ought to depart swiftly." Yasmine urged.

Vritra inclined his head: "I sense an oddity about this haven too."

"Foxie, accompany me tonight—I wish to scout further."

"Of course, master." Maeve assented, sipping the steaming broth.

Then he appended: "Dawn tomorrow, we move out."

Idle chatter flowed as dinner wrapped up.

When night cloaked all sufficiently, Vritra and Maeve slipped from the tent, shrouded in shadows.

They wandered awhile, spotting no anomalies.

"Master, this seems secure enough—when next do we press on?" she wondered.

"One extra day here; a few items demand acquisition." Vritra stated.

"Hehe, scheming what, master~" Maeve teased lightly, then froze, brow creasing deeply.

"What is it?" Vritra wheeled to her, concern etching his face.

"I…" Confusion clouded her expression.

"Never mind, master—shall we proceed or head back?" Maeve inquired, shaking it off with a tender smile.

"Yes, back home; fatigue weighs on me." He grumbled, yawning.

THUD THUD

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