SSS Awakening: Rebirth of the Strongest Vampire God Chapter 696 This battlefield is ours!

"You cannot win, bloodsucker! This battlefield is ours! This war is ours! We won't give up! We won't die! You will rot in hell for all eternity! You will fall!" The enormous beast bellowed in agony and fury, even though death hovered near. A vicious spark gleamed in its gaze. The bellow faded into a damp, choking rasp as divine fire and blood essence ripped it apart from within.

The werevampire leader collapsed, its huge body crashing into the devastated ground. As soon as its vitality faded away, the leftover sigils broke apart entirely. The linked blood war formation collapsed inward on itself.

The leftover werevampires gripped their heads like their craniums were cracking. Some let out screams. Others lacked the chance to respond before their veins burst inside. Forms tumbled down one by one, presences snuffed out in moments. A handful stumbled backward, attempting escape, yet their limbs gave out, sinews no longer obeying as the broken hive-mind drained them empty. The survivors fell to Damon's strikes right from his spot. They had lost their edge and could no longer rival him.

At last, just the snapping of divine fire and Damon's even breaths lingered in the air.

Damon loomed above the body, his torso heaving and settling steadily. Faint steam rose from the blood on his skin, his presence still wild yet reined in, wrapping around him like a leashed predator. He rested a palm on the pack chief's torso.

The body trembled anew while dense red essence flooded into Damon's form. Then Damon balled his free fist. Strands of red lifted from each fallen body strewn over the field, rising like fog drawn by an invisible current. They flowed to Damon in merging curves, bypassing broken plating, through splintered skeleton and torn tissue, until they surged into him in a raging flood.

The soil grew dimmer as the final traces got sucked barren.

Damon shut his eyes while absorbing it all. Alerts flooded in sequence after sequence, yet before he finished processing them fully, his eyes snapped wide, and his stare grew icy. Solitude had ended once more.

He at last grasped the werevampire's words about how Damon stood no chance on this field. Numerous shadows emerged surrounding him. What's more, each pair of eyes burned with red light.

A sudden realization hit Damon. Imagine if the full force lingered here? The whole legion that battled and vanished during the ancient war...

Additional vampiric monster horrors charged at him. Every one boasted the power of a top C-rank warrior, and Damon remained somewhat between the edges and the central zones. He hadn't ventured into the actual heart of the wilds. Beyond that waited the fabled core zone, harboring terrors that even B-ranks dreaded.

Nobody could say what held truth or lies in all this. The whole layout relied on guesses and tales from select ancestors. Still, Damon knew one fact for sure.

The horrors confronting him now seemed like basic troops fused with creatures. That alone explained such vast quantities. It implied the elite forces hid deeper in the wilds—the squad heads, the marshals, the company chiefs, the battle lords, and so on.

How mighty might those horrors prove?

Excitement surged through his veins at the idea of battling them, though he wasn't prepared quite yet. He recognized his position. He remained unfit to tackle the genuine threats. He required greater strength. Far more.

And it seemed he'd arrived at the perfect spot for that. If this section belonged to the vampire faction of the legion, maybe nearby zones held pieces of the opposing forces. Should he track them all and claim their abilities, talents, and combat wisdom... how unstoppable might he grow?

Yet this wouldn't prove simple. He wasn't chasing slimes or direwolves. He wasn't scorching bugs in a nest. He faced warriors who'd battled lifelong and sacrificed their existences and spirits on the field.

Their tragic spirits found no peace post-mortem and kept warring on this doomed arena for years upon years, maybe ages. He couldn't guess the age of this accursed arena or the span of this endless strife. The raw insanity of it all overwhelmed.

Damon swiftly pulled every drop of blood essence and bolted ahead. He greeted the initial vampiric horror with an enhanced Blood Cleave. He skipped a thorough check of the alerts and new abilities, but he sensed it clearly.

He instinctively knew which blood control techniques had surged ahead. The Blood Cleave sliced the first horror like a curving blade of execution.

Red glow burst forth, keen and unyielding. The beast lacked time for a cry before its body parted neatly in half, blood essence exploding in a savage burst. Damon advanced through the mist without pause. Another horror pounced.

Damon barely twisted around. A blood spear burst from the earth at a slanted path, skewering the beast via the mouth and holding it suspended. Before its body ceased jerking, Damon had moved beyond, blood cleaving once more, then repeatedly, actions blending in a merciless flow.

Blood essence streamed into him from every direction. He deployed his poison domain and blood domain repeatedly, turning the tainted terrain into his private slaughter zone. The werevampires had leveraged their array to challenge him fiercely, but these fresh horrors fared worse.

Further figures swarmed from the woods, scores upon scores and scores, each radiating the same top C-rank force, and Damon cut down every last one. Countless vampiric techniques lay before him, a dire shortage in his arsenal, and he craved them all!

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