SSS Awakening: Rebirth of the Strongest Vampire God Chapter 727 More shit storms?

Damon had completed all necessary preparations. He had examined the rift closely, probed its boundaries using mana and blood, and even sacrificed live subjects to verify his hypothesis. Logically speaking, survival was possible.

Yet that knowledge failed to lessen the sheer madness of leaping into it.

The instant he plunged inside, reality grew vicious.

A crushing pressure assaulted him from all sides simultaneously, as though space resented his intrusion and sought to pulverize him. Tearing forces yanked, wrenched, and ripped at his form without pause. Directions vanished—no up, no down, no respite. It resembled not travel but being mangled in divine machinery.

Damon cursed quietly and responded without delay.

From his core, mana erupted fiercely as he erected a protective shield around his body, stacking layers upon layers, bolstering it with blood essence, determination, and pure survival instinct. The shield howled under assault, its exterior warping as invisible powers chewed at it ceaselessly.

He channeled additional mana into the barrier. Then even more.

Midway through the ordeal, he was depleting almost his full mana pool merely to hold together. Despite his vast reserves, the shield flickered perilously, on the verge of shattering. A mere hint of lesser power or slower reaction would have erased him utterly—body, soul, everything.

Suddenly, as quick as it started, the torment ceased. Damon emerged on the far side, dumped into unknown territory.

He slammed into firm terrain, tumbling repeatedly before halting. For an entire minute, he remained prone, gasping for air, eyesight blurred to oblivion. His surroundings swirled in chaotic hues and glare, contorting wildly. Internal perceptions wailed chaotically, like a soul half-ejected, fighting to realign.

Gripping his fists tight, Damon willed steady breaths, grounding himself through iron resolve. Moments dragged into ages. Slowly, dizziness faded. The churning eased. Reality ceased inverting within his mind.

His sight cleared at last. “…Fuck,” he rasped out. This location was at least distinct.

Damon hauled himself up, stamping his boots solidly on the surface, relishing solid contact. No fractured obsidian here. Fine crimson dunes extended everywhere, warm grains shifting beneath him. Scattered greenery clung to life amid the expanse.

Gazing skyward, the searing sun persisted. Same realm, opposite face? Or another world nearby in the system? He rubbed his scalp and dismissed the puzzle.

This being a system event meant an exit likely existed, just as an entrance had. Hopefully. Damon shelved that concern. Priority: scout the area.

Contrasting the barren void outside, vibrancy pulsed here. Sandstorms raged across the vista. One barreled straight toward him now. Damon retreated steps swiftly to evade it. Astonishingly, the tempest veered, pursuing him relentlessly.

“Fuck!” Damon blinked away multiple times, expending more mana, fleeing desperately. Unsure if the storm posed real threat, its velocity alone warned against complacency. Caution ruled.

Surveying anew, crimson desolation prevailed, dotted by occasional trees and brush.

Naturally, another gale loomed afar.

“No way it tracks me from there, right?” Damon mused, eyeing it—then his face hardened. Indeed. The storm hurtled directly at him, accelerating dramatically on cue.

Damon teleported frantically once more. Perhaps squandering mana pointlessly, but instinct screamed danger. After several jumps, he reached fresh ground, shaking the pursuer.

Before relief could settle or he assessed surroundings, three more storms fixed on him. Damon’s features spasmed. “Fuck it. Can’t escape them? Time to inspect these bastards up close.”

Initial impulse: test via proxy. But solitude reigned—no souls nearby. Just him versus encroaching trio.

He weighed standing firm against the onslaught but reconsidered, blinking away again. Three felt excessive for a novice. Begin with one.

Finding another storm proved effortless. Halting his blinks summoned a new one promptly from afar—heading straight for him, naturally.

This round, Damon held position. Swiftly, he called forth five shadow beasts, hurling them into the maelstrom. Braced to sacrifice them, expecting obliteration, he watched in surprise as the storm ignored them unharmed.

Damon scowled. Harmless? Hardly. Naivety aside, peril lurked deeper. This realm brimmed with such deceptions.

The Golden Throne event’s challenge escalated dramatically!

Damon eyed the nearing disaster thoughtfully. Could luck intervene? Overreaction perhaps? He chuckled as it brushed him. “Let’s go.” Fully geared for defense, he braced.

Mental strike? Soul assault? Abrasive sand barrage?

All guesses missed. The sandstorm enveloped him harmlessly, inert.

“What the…” Damon gaped as environs shifted abruptly. No more scarlet wastes. Verdant foliage enveloped him. A forest heart?

“Okay. This is new.” Damon scanned about, baffled by the transformation. Analysis eluded him. “Fuck it. Explore and figure location. Another portal maybe?” Flow over scrutiny now.

Poised to dash toward a distant river’s murmur, a piercing wail echoed close by.

Damon flashed to the source: a concealed burrow amid tangled vines and foliage. Sensing without entry, a gravely injured woman lay within, life force flickering. No threats or presences nearby.

Seconds passed uneventfully. He entered then, seeking her intel edge.

Inside, her eyes locked on him. “Faron… ahh… I can’t hold on anymore… Faron… please just kill me… I cannot bear this pain… Faron.”

Delirium rendered her useless. Damon sighed, retreating a pace to diagnose coolly. Poison afflicted her.

Yet this toxin was far from ordinary. Unfamiliar entirely to him.