SSS Awakening: Rebirth of the Strongest Vampire God-Chapter 214: True to my soul and my sword

Damon’s gaze swept across the battlefield once more, taking in the grotesque stillness, the dozens of twisted bodies, the frozen screams etched into their faces, the scorched sigils carved into the soil like some cursed altar. The sad reality sank in.

What made Robert trust a demon of all things? Damon didn’t need the full story to guess. He’d seen that look before, desperation so hopeless that it carved out a man’s soul and left behind only hunger.

Maybe Robert had been promised power, freedom, vengeance. Maybe he was a true believer in whatever lies Skal’Zarith had whispered through their connection. Or maybe the demon had muddled his brain right from the beginning, giving him no chance at all.

That sort of mind control should be easy when the difference between their levels was so vast, almost incomparable. The man was probably nudged into madness one whisper at a time until he offered up everything, even his clan, just to touch something more.

"Desperation is a parasite," Damon murmured. "It makes people kneel before monsters," But then he laughed. "Who am I to judge the poor guy? Did I not do the same thing? I sought the legendary weapon of the vampire clan that could change the fate of someone like me. I too was once desperate, desperate enough to spend every waking second working tirelessly just to have a shot at being powerful."

He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. There were a lot of conflicting emotions within him, and a feeling of overwhelming dread and hopelessness. He did not know how to live among gods and monsters who could squeeze him and his entire world in a single second. How does one make peace with something like that? He shivered.

Here, he thought that he had a second chance in life, and he would finally be able to rewrite his fate, but the reality was cruel. He was just a speck of dust caught in the winds of these powerful monsters. He could fight. He could work tirelessly. In the end, nothing mattered at all. He was at the mercy of these monsters.

Damon clenched his fists as his blood boiled unbearably. He couldn’t stomach such a thought. Something inside him did not want to feel so small and helpless. He needed to break free of the shackles binding him. He needed to somehow get through the obstacles in his way. He needed to become a monster himself.

He had never thought of this before. Survival was the only thing on his mind, but this incident had left a lasting impact on him.

Damon silently stood there as Sylvara wailed loudly in the background with inconsolable pain. She held the old man in her arms as he cradled him and watched his life slowly slip away.

Damon stared at her, but what could he do? The healing spells in his arsenal were not capable of dealing with something like this. He could feed the old man his blood.

"I can feed him my blood," Damon repeated, though he was not sure just how much it would help.

"What did you say?" Sylvara froze upon hearing his words and snapped to look at him.

"I could feed him some of my blood. It will heal him a little. Maybe even have a chance to convert him into a vampire, though I don’t know how much of a soul injury he suffered. I don’t know if the vampiric transformation would be complete with such a soul injury."

Sylvara trembled. As if she had suddenly seen a flicker of light in a nightmare of never-ending darkness, she pleaded and begged him. "Please. Please. Do something. Please, at least try. Please. If it is you, then you can do it. Please, I will do anything for you in return. I will give you all of our soul arts."

She hurriedly wiped her eyes even as she continued sobbing. "I will give you the cosmic vessel blueprint that I found. You can have me. You can have everything. Please. Please try to save him." Damon let out a sigh, seeing her desperate situation, but before he could open his mouth, another voice sounded.

"My child. Will you still not let this old man go? Why are you still by my side?" Artimius smiled as he looked up at Sylvara. His smile was steeped in sadness and misery, but one could see that the old man truly cared for her.

"Grandpa, please. Grandpa please. I cannot lose you too." Sylvara broke down, holding the old man’s hand and sobbing uncontrollably. Damon could no longer see the proud, bold woman he had always known her to be. The woman right now was a complete mess, someone who would go to any extent for the sake of her loved one.

He walked over and knelt next to the old man. He then started to prick his wrist to drain some blood into the old man’s mouth. However, before he could do anything, the old man shook his head.

"I am what I am. Until the very end, I would like to be what I am. True to my soul and my sword. I do not fear death, Blood God. You do not have to bleed for me."

Damon paused. He was shocked to see the old man react this way. His words struck something inside him, something that was both frustrating and deeply admirable. The transformation Damon offered might heal his wounds, but it would also rewrite him.

And Artimius, even at death’s door, wanted to die as himself. A man who had lived by the sword and soul now refused to let even death steal that identity from him.

Sylvara did not find it so admirable. Artimius stubbornness only made her more miserable. "I don’t want to bury another one," Sylvara sobbed. "Not you. Not like this. Please, Grandpa."

Artimius exhaled, weak but gentle. "You will not bury me, Sylvara. You will carry me. Just as I carried my master, and he carried his."

Damon let out a sigh. Sometimes, the right thing was to let go. He looked at Sylvara, her tear-streaked face crumpled with pain, and then at Artimius, whose eyes were soft and full of peace. He decided to give the two some time alone to grieve each other and took a step back. He was not needed there. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

However, all of a sudden a new voice sounded in his heard. "If you want, you can still save him."

***

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