SSS Awakening: Rebirth of the Strongest Vampire God Chapter 721 My luck is just too good these days!

Seeing his strike connect, the orange-haired man wore a smug grin. Damon, meanwhile, was in a wretched state, heaving and panting like a dying stray struggling to ascend the peak. This wretched display only served to bolster the attacker's arrogance.

Conversely, a cold smile tugged at Damon's lips. He had allowed himself to be caught off guard for a mere heartbeat, his concentration frayed by other priorities. Moreover, he hadn't invested his full strength into evading a minor blow that would have barely grazed him.

And so, on the treacherous slopes of the peculiar mountain, the two men stood locked in a silent, grinning standoff. A second elapsed, and then chaos erupted. "I've found you! I can't believe persistence actually paid off! Luck is truly smiling upon me!" The flamboyant man performed a mocking chef's kiss. "I’ve been hunting you, you little wretch. You managed to blindside us during the battle, but don't imagine you'll slip away so easily this time."

Damon didn't waste breath on such a fool. Time was an eroding resource, and squandering even a moment on this clown was intolerable. He instantly unleashed his poison domain, infused with a lethal concoction of his own design.

The toxic fog cascaded outward, a murky haze that crept along the mountainside like a predatory, sentient vapor. Yet, the orange-haired man merely chuckled. "Did you really think we wouldn't have an antidote for your petty toxins by now? You vastly underestimate our Sect's alchemists. Let me offer you a bit of advice: don't bother."

Damon remained unfazed. Before the man could finish his drivel, Damon launched a follow-up assault, then another. He granted his opponent no window of opportunity, pummeling him with a relentless sequence of high-powered blows one after another.

Under the immense pressure of the mountain, it felt cathartic to vent his building frustration. By the time he ceased his onslaught, the man’s body had dissolved into flickers of light. A kill notification chimed before his eyes, though, notably, no loot dropped.

Damon spared only a singular moment to verify the lack of spoils before pressing upward. He couldn't discern how the orange-haired man had navigated the ascent so easily, but the man had clearly been in superior physical condition compared to him.

This suggested that others could replicate the feat if they possessed the right method. The dying man’s ramblings about alchemists lingered; perhaps they carried consumables or elixirs specifically tailored to bypass this crushing barrier?

Damon didn't linger on the thought. These adversaries hailed from ancient clans with deep, ancestral roots—organizations with centuries of experience regarding magic, mana, and every esoteric art. It was entirely plausible they had brought a wealth of high-tier alchemy recipes to this realm.

Damon pushed forward, immersing himself once more in his Blood Extraction skill, when a sudden projectile whistled past. This time, he sidestepped with grace, ignoring the aggressor to focus on his climb. However, the opposition had little intention of letting him escape so easily.

The initial attack was followed by a barrage. Turning, he spotted dozens of men ascending the incline, their pace markedly superior to his own.

Worse, every single one of them was gunning for him. Damon paused, his grin stretching wider. His priority was his own progression, not thinning the herd of his enemies. Eliminating one or two was trivial, but against such a swarm, it was a waste of vitality. Yet, he found himself relishing the situation. He doubted these fools possessed the mental clarity he currently enjoyed. His hands were itching to experiment, and he had finally found a collection of living test subjects.

While he coveted the treasures concealed behind the doors, the unique properties of this environment were equally tantalizing.

Damon raised his hands, and crimson energy began to swirl between his palms.

"Dual casting!" someone screamed.

Damon didn't stop there. A third vortex manifested, followed swiftly by a fourth. The onlookers watched in confusion, lacking terminology for such a feat. A moment later, four devastating attacks thundered outward, drenching the previously ethereal and mysterious slope in a torrential massacre.

A storm of gore obscured everyone's vision. Blood-forged weapons materialized and descended in a flurry of strikes. Veins of blood erupted from the stone, binding targets and lashing out with whips. Finally, needles of blood, crackling with jagged lightning, poured from above like a hellish baptism.

Piercing cries echoed instantly. The attackers, who had charged with such misplaced confidence only a moment prior, were suddenly plunged into total carnage. Spikes of solidified blood impaled some, while others were dragged down by tendrils that crushed their limbs. The crushing pressure of the mountain compounded with Damon's assault, refining every strike into a waking nightmare.

Damon didn't pause to admire his handiwork. He harvested the blood essence as he continued his steady ascent. Just as before, he could feel the peculiar essence strands as they were absorbed into his frame.

He attempted to isolate these elusive strands once more, failing repeatedly. But given the sheer volume of blood he was about to collect, he would have plenty of opportunities to experiment today.

Without bothering to look back, Damon could sense even more cultivators pressing upward. They clearly favored a different strategy, prioritizing his obstruction over their own advancement toward the golden doors.

New attacks rained down from the opposite side, but as he steeled himself to confront this new wave, a figure draped in a golden mask silently bypassed the chaos, sparing Damon only a single, cold glance as he passed.