SSS Awakening: Rebirth of the Strongest Vampire God Chapter 738 A despicable coward

Necrogod found Damon's words utterly perplexing. He couldn't comprehend such composure when facing a B-rank opponent. At their current cultivation level, a B-rank was practically a deity – an insurmountable god. How could anyone possibly stand against such a being?

Heaving a sigh, Necrogod decided to put these thoughts aside. After all, Damon himself was far from ordinary. Clenching his fists, he continued conversing with the others, desperately attempting to buy more time. They absolutely had to conquer this memory world; their very survival hinged on it. He had already faced failure once and refused to let it happen again. While Damon could be an insufferable jerk, his strategic mind was exceptional, and his plans were always robust.

"He'll find a way. He always does. I just need to handle my part flawlessly." Without another moment to spare, Necrogod sprang into action.

Meanwhile…

A suffocating, poisonous miasma began to creep outwards from the castle, blanketing everything in its path. Countless vampires started spasming, blood erupting from their bodies as they collapsed. Confusion reigned; nobody understood the cause. Alarms had sounded, signifying the start of a war, yet the enemy remained out of sight. What, then, was happening within the city and upon the castle grounds?

Every vampire in the royal court, along with the elite forces of the army, stood utterly dumbfounded. The C-ranks, consumed by panic, scrambled to activate the castle's defensive barriers. Though these wards might prove futile against a B-rank's might, they were certainly capable of repelling lesser assaults like the current insidious attack.

Or so they believed. Tragically, their assumptions were incorrect on every count.

Damon let out a sigh, his movements swift and unhesitating. He acknowledged his current actions were undeniably villainous, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It was the twelfth hour, and desperate measures were required. Upon entering this world, he had anticipated the potential encounter with a B-rank, yet he had still dared to proceed.

The risk was unavoidable. There was simply no alternative. Had he avoided confronting a B-rank here, he would inevitably face one immediately after this ordeal concluded.

His hope had been to discover some exploitable loophole or a fortuitous circumstance he could leverage. Alternatively, he had envisioned a scenario of mass carnage, allowing him to gorge on an immense quantity of blood.

He mused that the current situation would have been truly perfect for a conventional war, with millions of combatants clashing. Given their vampiric nature, he was certain he would have achieved significant progress. He felt unequivocally sure of it.

However, in the end, nothing of the sort materialized. It was destined to be a direct confrontation between himself and a single B-rank. Apparently, the vampires indigenous to this realm did not condone the indiscriminate slaughter of the weak. It was a commendable policy, one that prudent leaders would adopt if genuine concern for their world prevailed.

Unfortunately for them, Damon was an outsider to this world. Furthermore, he doubted the authenticity of this realm. He had extensively discussed the nature of these memory worlds with Blood Reign. The probability of them being genuine realities was exceedingly low; they were more likely akin to dungeons or, more simply, mere memories. Just that. Someone's recollection.

Therefore, he had no intention of contemplating right and wrong within a fabricated, artificial world and forfeiting this invaluable opportunity. Carnage was essential for his advancement, and he was determined to engineer it, even if it meant sacrificing his own people.

This world presented both peril and promise, and he intended to harness both to overcome the bottleneck hindering his progress.

Damon steeled his resolve, continuing his brutal rampage. He unleashed his poisonous miasma without restraint, spreading it far and wide. While a slim chance remained that this tactic might fail, fortune seemed to favor him this time.

The vampires buckled under the onslaught of his poison, utterly incapable of mounting a defense. They appeared to possess neither antidotes nor potions to counteract his unique venom. Helpless against its effects, they bled out and perished.

Damon ravenously absorbed every drop of blood essence he could gather. One after another, notifications materialized before his eyes without pause.

"The blood of fellow vampires is truly the finest," he chortled, a grin stretching across his face. Despite the reprehensible nature of his actions, he couldn't help but luxuriate in the burgeoning power coursing through his veins. While his core stats might have reached their limit, his skills continued to improve incrementally.

"Just a little more," Damon whispered, closing his eyes and concentrating. He could sense it – he stood on the precipice of a breakthrough. He had believed his poison body received the most significant enhancements, but after battling the vampires in the wilderness of Earth Online, his blood manipulation abilities were rapidly evolving as well.

He concealed his presence, making his absorption of blood essence undetectable. There was no grand display to reveal his involvement. Amidst the pervasive chaos and pandemonium, it seemed no one had managed to pinpoint the source of the poison, nor him specifically.