SSS Awakening: Rebirth of the Strongest Vampire God-Chapter 113: Join the Frozen Throne

The helicopter ride was short. Damon didn’t speak. Neither Mark nor Kate. The cold beauty had her eyes closed the entire flight, like a statue carved out of frost. The old man simply stared out the side window.

They landed inside a vast, dimly lit hangar in the middle of nowhere. A long runway stretched out beyond the heavy blast doors, and snow crunched under their boots the moment they stepped out. The air was sharp, dry, biting, each breath like swallowing shards of ice. Damon’s enhanced body helped a little, but even he winced at the wind chill.

"This way," the old man said again.

A private jet was already prepped and waiting for them. Sleek, matte black, with no markings. No flag. No registration number. It didn’t need any. They boarded quickly, the warmth inside a stark contrast that made the chill even more memorable.

Kate shivered violently, pulling Damon’s coat tighter around her. Mark looked equally miserable. Damon, on the other hand, just sat down quietly, eyes closed, mind spinning like a turbine. He had a feeling things were about to escalate far past anything he was prepared for.

Two hours later, they touched down again, this time in Greenland. Not the touristy, glacier-trekking, selfie-snapping part of Greenland. No, this place was raw, wild, and abandoned. There was nothing for miles but jagged peaks and ice-crusted ground stretching under a sky so clear it looked like it had never known clouds.

Damon stepped off the plane and immediately grimaced. The cold here wasn’t just biting, it was invasive. It seeped into his bones, laughed at his vampiric resistance, and reminded him that even monsters weren’t immune to nature’s cruelty.

"What the hell could be in a place like this?" Mark muttered, teeth chattering.

The old man simply pointed. Far across the snowy plain, nestled against a cliffside like a sleeping leviathan, was a dome. Not metallic. Not concrete. Something older. The outer layer looked like obsidian fused with ice, slick and seamless, with glowing blue runes that pulsed softly beneath its shell. freēwēbnovel.com

Kate’s breath caught in her throat. "What is that?"

The old man smiled. "That would be my humble abode. Welcome, Blood God and his two friends."

Damon didn’t reply. His eyes were fixed on the dome, watching how the runes reacted to the old man’s presence as he walked ahead. Snow crunched underfoot as they followed. The cold felt heavier.

By the time they reached the dome’s entrance, a jagged split down the center that slowly peeled open, they were shivering, breath clouding in front of their faces like ghosts.

Thankfully, the moment they stepped through the threshold, warmth engulfed them. It was still extremely cold and uncomfortable, but at least now they would be okay with their best winter gear.

Damon narrowed his eyes. "So this is where you wanted to bring me?"

The old man chuckled. "Come. Let’s have something to drink and have a chat." He then looked at Kate and Mark. "You both are welcome to join us, but you should know that I have already brought your mother to our facility. You can meet her now if you want to."

Mark was about to say something when Damon shook his head. "Where is she?" he asked flatly.

"In the east wing, resting," the old man replied. "Under heavy monitoring, of course. She was in poor condition, but she’s stable now. One of our best doctors worked on her. She will recover just fine. You can see her now or later. Up to you."

Damon nodded. "Thanks. Mark, how about you both go and find her? I will come to meet you guys in a bit."

"You really don’t have to be so cautious." The old man let out a sigh and continued walking. The cold beauty silently followed him. Damon looked at Mark for a moment before squeezing his shoulder briefly. "Take Kate and go. Make sure she’s okay. I’ll handle the old man."

Mark didn’t look thrilled, but he nodded. Kate gave Damon a long glance, worried, thoughtful, but said nothing. She took Mark’s hand, and the two of them headed down the eastern hallway, guided by one of the silent attendants who had been waiting by the inner arch.

Damon turned and followed the old man and the cold beauty deeper into the heart of the dome.

They entered a wide circular room lined with shelves of books. A low fire crackled in a sunken pit at the center, blue flame, eerily cold-looking but radiating warmth.

The old man took a seat beside it, motioning for Damon to do the same. The cold beauty remained standing, her eyes never straying from Damon for more than a heartbeat.

"I’m not a fan of games," Damon said. "So let’s get to the point. What do you want from me?"

An attendant came and served two cups of tea, one for the old man and one for Damon.

The old man took a long sip. Then, finally, he said, "I want to offer you sanctuary. Resources. Knowledge. Allies. In exchange for some help with certain matters."

Damon’s expression didn’t change. "That’s vague as hell."

The old man smiled. "My name is Artimius. I am the guild leader of the Frozen Throne. This here is my granddaughter, Sylvara, and also one of our strongest assets," the old man continued, gesturing to the cold beauty who stood like a silent warden beside him. "I take it you already know her."

Damon awkwardly cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes, of course." It looked like the small matter of him almost draining her to death was still not revealed.

Artimius leaned forward, setting the cup down with a soft clink. "So there you go. This is what I need from you."

"I need you to join our guild, and I need you to contribute significantly to its rise and its growth. You will be given the position of an elder, the highest position in the guild, only answerable to me."

"And in return, we will shield your identity from all prying eyes, both mortal and divine," Artimius said, his tone calm.

"We will provide you with resources others would kill for. Access to forbidden knowledge, skill crystals, real-world support, game-world support, whatever you need. All you have to do is ask. You will have unlimited gold coins to work with, potions, gear, whatever you need. Become a pillar of my guild, and together we can forge a path in this new world."

Damon didn’t answer immediately. "What exactly do you mean by contribute? You want me to lead raids? Recruit players? Run your errands?"

Artimius chuckled softly. "Nothing so mundane. I want you to be yourself. The Blood God. Continue to shake the balance. Conquer territories. Let the world fear you and follow you. All I ask is that when the time comes, you raise your flag in the name of the Frozen Throne."

Damon leaned back in his chair, letting that sit. "Let me guess," he said at last. "There’s a war coming. A real one. Not just inside the game, but outside. And you want me to be your executioner."

Artimius smiled faintly. "No. I want you to be our spear."