SSS Awakening: Rebirth of the Strongest Vampire God Chapter 719 Traps and rules

Damon pushed the memory of the masked stranger from his mind and focused on the path ahead. He ascended with as much haste as possible, yet the situation was anything but simple. As he drew near to one of the golden portals, the ambient pressure surged violently.

His perception fractured, his footing buckled, and his frame emitted a sharp, agonized creak, as if every skeletal structure was being compressed simultaneously. Damon lurched, nearly dropping to one knee before he managed to stabilize himself.

"Seriously?" he growled.

The atmosphere had thickened considerably. He could feel it pressing against his skin, seeping into his muscle fibers, and burrowing deep into his marrow. Advancing even a single inch now felt akin to shouldering a mountain. The golden portal ahead loomed large, its surface radiating a warm, deceptive glow. Damon finally realized the truth: the closer he approached, the more the environment repelled him. "So, that is the trick..." he muttered through jagged breaths. He had encountered trials like this before, but that familiarity didn't make the ordeal any less punishing. Even with his enhanced physique, overcoming it was a monumental struggle. His only option was to center his focus and advance one leg at a time.

Damon planted his foot, forcing his trembling form into an upright position. His legs shivered, his musculature screamed in protest, but he remained unshakable in his resolve.

This adversary was nothing more than raw, crushing pressure. It was a test indifferent to tricks, natural talent, or cunning strategy; all that mattered was one's capacity for endurance.

Each advancement felt like grinding his physical form against an invisible, jagged wall. His breath came in ragged gasps, his pulse hammered against his auditory nerves, and his Qi surged within as if attempting to rupture his very veins. His bones groaned, the sound resonating louder than before, and a thin streak of crimson leaked from the corner of his mouth.

Damon smeared the blood away with his hand and offered a weak laugh. The pressure intensified further with every step he took, probing for vulnerabilities within his joints, organs, and even his soul. Despite this, he pressed forward, slow and steady. He unleashed his blood domain and poison domain, triggering his regenerative properties. The domains buffered his combat stats, aiding him in shedding some of the crushing weight. It was a marginal gain, but it provided just enough leverage to push forward a few more paces.

At this pace, he could reasonably reach the first portal in mere minutes. Damon felt a surge of excitement, only for his confidence to shatter when the system interface materialized before him. His expression darkened. The timer indicated that three hours had already elapsed. Three out of ten hours gone? What in the world?

Worse yet, as he observed the display, the countdown began to accelerate at an alarming rate. It didn't function like a standard clock at all.

"A manual or some introductory text would have been nice!" Damon cursed into the void. It made no difference. Time continued to bleed away rapidly. He even attempted to deactivate and recast his domains, but that only exacerbated the issue.

In the end, he gritted his teeth and resumed his climb. He had no other choice. Regardless of the circumstances, the trial demanded persistence, and his goal remained the summit. With a defiant roar, he took another step.

To his astonishment, the timer slowed down.

Damon stood momentarily stunned. As he took another step, he began to decipher the logic of the mountain. The primary goal was to ascend to one of the golden portals, which would likely lead to a treasure, a gateway to the next sector, or perhaps a guardian boss.

This was clearly the core objective of the trial, but it was governed by obscure, hidden rules. For instance, prioritizing the ascent was far more rewarding than wasting time engaging other participants.

Furthermore, staying in constant motion kept the passage of time sluggish, whereas pausing to recover burned through his limited window. This implied that even if he reached a door, additional time-based hurdles surely awaited.

Initially, Damon had planned to pry open as many doors as possible to amass treasure, but he discarded that notion instantly. Approaching the trial with such greed would undoubtedly lead to his downfall.

Damon inhaled deeply, forcing his mind into a calm state. He appraised the mountain once more. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of golden portals dotted the slope. Some resided nearby, while others rested so high they appeared like stars pinned to the firmament.

A flicker of avarice flared in his chest, which he ruthlessly extinguished. He had to select one door and commit to it. He refused to aim too low and walk away with mediocre loot, having staked everything on this endeavor already.

Simultaneously, he could not aim too high, lest the trial end before he could reach his prize. He needed a calculated strike based on a realistic assessment of his potential—something he had yet to master.

Damon locked his gaze on a door located in the upper-middle section. He had made his decision, and now it was time to commit. Without hesitation, he pushed forward with every ounce of his remaining strength.

Coincidentally, as he continued his steady march, the path grew slightly less burdensome. The momentum he generated with each continuous movement made subsequent steps marginally easier.

Logically, the grade should have become steeper, but by maintaining a rhythmic, uninterrupted pace, the difficulty plateaued. It felt as though he had reached an equilibrium where the pressure remained constant rather than increasing, and another surprise awaited Damon at the threshold.