SSS Awakening: Rebirth of the Strongest Vampire God Chapter 671 Let the chaos continue

Grinning at the unfolding mayhem, Damon watched the scene. He understood that men were fundamentally simple; in truth, he was no different. He didn't judge them. Instead, he provided the one thing every soul thirsted for: the absolute, unrestricted freedom to act however they pleased, wherever they wished, against whomever they chose.

There were no regulations here. No boundaries existed, and the chains of morality had been shattered. No repercussions awaited them, save for the ones they forged with their own hands.

Like famished wolves unleashed in a slaughterhouse, the players lunged at the chance. The second the portal broke open, the demon lands transformed into a sanctuary for the depraved, the architects of ruin, thrill-seekers, and the lonely alike.

Within the demon lands, a solitary decree governed all: survival of the fittest. Strength was the only currency; as long as you possessed power, you could do anything.

Naturally, such a period of unrestrained debauchery was destined to be short-lived. The inevitable consequence was approaching fast. While it might be effortless to bed a stunning woman in the demon settlements, it was just as easy to be slaughtered for merely breathing the wrong way.

For demons, the passion for combat was equal to their lust. This wasn't a mere cultural quirk or a common stereotype; it was a fundamental biological reality.

Damon had no intention of masking the truth. Why bother? These were the demon lands, the final bastion where traditional virtue held no sway. In this place, violence and desire performed a lethal duet. Survival here served as both a rush and a prize. A man could reign as a sovereign or vanish as a mere footnote in history.

Every player had to determine their own path, their deepest cravings, and what they were prepared to gamble. Damon was not there to act as a guide. If they sought pleasure, they had to seize it. If they wanted honor, they had to pay in blood. If they desired a paradise... they would first have to endure the fires of hell.

He possessed zero interest in acting as a guardian. The demon lands were designed to temper the wicked, crush the fragile, and elevate the insane. That was the natural order of things, exactly as it ought to be.

Meanwhile, Damon wasn't about to sit still. He had his own agendas to pursue, and the sudden unveiling of the demon continent was far from accidental. It was a cold, calculated maneuver. There was a specific reason he chose this exact moment to reveal the demon lands.

A distraction was necessary. He required chaos to ignite across every corner of the globe. He wanted the Light Faction wailing over their fallen cities and the Dark Faction celebrating like madmen. He needed the various guilds to descend into panic as their capitals were tainted.

He required millions of players to swarm the demon towns, pursuing both fantasies and a swift death. Most crucially... he needed the super guilds to crumble.

Fractures were already appearing. They were paralyzed by indecision, unable to prioritize their crises. Was it the sudden emergence of the Blood Domain? The total annihilation of light faction strongholds? The revelation of an entire demon continent? Or perhaps the massive waves of players abandoning their guilds?

Their focus was pulled in a dozen directions at once. Their coffers were emptying, their ranks were thinning, and their alliances were shattering. Morale had hit rock bottom, precisely according to Damon's design.

Beyond the elite experts and the endless stream of skilled players emerging from obscurity, super guilds held their status for a reason: sheer numbers. Every super guild commanded millions of members, and that scale of manpower was a formidable power in its own right.

Now, Damon was set on stealing that influence, or at the very least, making a significant dent in it. Thus far, his strategy appeared to be succeeding perfectly.

While this chaos was part of his intent, his primary objective remained total conquest. Teleporting away from the scorched remains of Thunder City, he materialized before the gates of the unsuspecting Dawnspire City.

This city was a crown jewel of the Light Faction, renowned for its shimmering gold spires, streets adorned with floating lanterns, prestigious academies, and holy knights who viewed themselves as the world's unbreakable bulwark.

That very bulwark was about to be pushed to its limit.

Damon hovered just outside the massive marble gates. To a casual observer, Dawnspire appeared serene; merchants were gossiping, players were trading, and guards moved in disciplined ranks. Nobody anticipated an assault, as Dawnspire was considered one of the most secure bastions, housing the headquarters of numerous top-tier guilds.

A lone guard from the Light Faction stepped forward, leveling his spear with a formal, steady tone. "Halt! State your—"

Damon let out a breath. A sudden wave of toxic miasma exploded outward. The guard’s sentence was cut short as his health bar vanished before he even realized he was under attack. The guards standing near him suffered the same fate instantly.

[Ding! You have slain NPC Guards x15]

With a relaxed gait, Damon walked forward. A light wind blew.

Then, the slaughter commenced.

Dark red tendrils erupted from the earth, shattering defenses, tearing through buildings, and hoisting screaming players into the sky. The poisonous miasma spread like a tainted aurora, filtering into every narrow street, window, and lung.

Terrified shrieks began to ring out from the city's heart, followed by the blare of sirens and total pandemonium. Players fled for their lives while NPCs barked desperate commands. Mages scrambled to cast shields, only to watch them dissolve the moment they touched Damon’s venom.

From atop the battlements, a frantic player screamed, "It’s him! The Blood God is here! Run for your lives!!!"

In that instant, the city’s resolve snapped. Damon ascended into the heavens, his wings snapping open with a sound like thunder. His dark silhouette eclipsed the sun, casting a crimson shadow over the plaza. He spoke in a low voice. "The Blood Domain claims this territory."

The heavens responded. A scarlet halo manifested high above Dawnspire, spinning with concentrated blood mana until it transformed into a glowing orb: the Blood Moon.

With a simple downward gesture of Damon's finger, the Blood Moon descended. A massive wave of corruption swept over Dawnspire, submerged structures, melting away defenses and extinguishing every flicker of hope. This wasn't merely poison; it was total erasure in liquid form.

A rain of blood fell everywhere. Hundreds of players shrieked in agony. Within minutes, the entire metropolis was in ruins. The city no longer resembled a center of civilization; it had become a miasmic tomb. All the holy knights and guards proved useless, unable to hinder the single madman who had laid waste to their world.