SSS Awakening: Rebirth of the Strongest Vampire God-Chapter 131: Stirring the nest

While Damon happily farmed for skills and buffs, his shadow clone darting among the ice orcs like a ravenous ghost, the rest of the group was in full survival mode. The snowstorm howled louder, a swirling vortex of wind and ice that bit through even the thickest armor.

Sylvara’s ice sword danced in the whiteout, but she was panting now, her breath ragged. The constant hail of arrows and frost spikes from the enemy lines was taking a toll. Even the strongest of the Frozen Throne’s elites were struggling to keep up.

Only Sylvara and Nevin had managed to close in and get on the other side of the enemy line, where they faced multiple orcs at the same time, getting utterly crushed.

It was only thanks to Mira coordinating with Sylvara that she was able to clear a few and get the upper hand. A few clan members supported Nevin, and he, too, eventually managed to get the upper hand.

However, there were still more than forty big guys left on the battlefield. Damon had a feeling that these were not the only ones around. There was probably a big tribe somewhere close by, and at any time, there could be backup arriving.

Damon was happy to be farming at a leisurely pace, but his gut instincts told him that he should be doing the opposite. He took a look around the landscape. He narrowed his eyes, focusing past the swirling snow.

There, beyond the clearing, on the closest mountain range, he could see some small flags whipping about. There was unmistakable movement in that area.

Damon immediately shadow stepped next to Sylvara. "Are we heading in that direction or can we bypass that mountain range?"

Sylvara shook her head with a bitter smile. She forced herself to meet his eyes despite the exhaustion that lined her face. "No. We have to go through there. That’s the only path to the dungeon. If we detour, it’ll take us days to get back on track."

Damon’s smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze. "Movement. Those flags aren’t for show. That’s an orc encampment or worse, a rally point for reinforcements. If they’re already mobilizing, we’re looking at double or even triple the number of orcs on the field." He tilted his head, his fangs catching the faint light. "We either clear them out now or prepare to get swarmed from behind while we’re still dealing with this lot."

Sylvara cursed under her breath, her knuckles whitening around the hilt of her ice sword. "We can’t afford to waste time or energy. We’re already stretched thin."

Damon’s expression hardened, but his tone remained casual. "So what’s it gonna be, Ice Queen? Do we push forward or find a way to draw them out and thin their numbers?"

Sylvara’s eyes burned with determination. "We push forward," she said through gritted teeth. "If we let them regroup, we’ll be fighting this battle on their terms, not ours."

Damon grinned. "Good answer." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping low. "But here’s the thing, that’s not the best plan. The better idea is for me to go there alone. I’ll go ahead and stir the nest. While they’re busy chasing me, you get your team into the caves. Use that as your advantage."

Sylvara’s brows shot up, surprise mixing with a grudging respect. "You’d... do that for us?"

Damon’s eyes glinted crimson. "You called me for help, didn’t you?"

Sylvara nodded. "Be careful," she shouted as Damon’s figure was already disappearing. "You’re strong, but even you can’t take them all head-on."

Damon laughed. "Don’t worry about me. If I can’t handle a few ice orcs, I’d be too embarrassed to call myself the Blood God." He paused only once, glancing back over his shoulder. "Stick to the plan. Get your people into those caves. I’ll make sure you have the opening you need."

Before she could respond, Damon vanished into the whiteout, his shadow melting into the swirling snow. Sylvara watched him go, her lips pressed into a tight line. "Blood God," she murmured under her breath. "Don’t die."

As Damon raced toward the mountain range, the flags whipping in the wind drew closer. His shadow clone flickered beside him, like a twin born of darkness and purpose. A grin split his face as he felt two more people join him. "What are you guys doing here?"

Kate smiled. "Where you go, we go."

Mark simply gave him a look that said where else would he be.

Damon chuckled. "Well, I guess this works, too. Now we don’t have to hold back." The three of them quickly scaled the mountain, the whipping ice-cold wind barely bothering them. As they reached the ridge, they could make out the details a lot better now.

The encampment was sprawled below them, rows of crude barricades made of frost-bitten timber, watchtowers with snow-caked orcish archers, and a central bonfire around which dozens of warriors milled, sharpening axes and checking armor. The red flags with black sigils snapped in the icy wind.

"That’s more orcs than I expected," Kate gasped.

"The more the merrier!" Damon shouted. "Mark, cover the east watchtower. Kate, take out their mages. I’ll go for the bonfire and break up the big gang, scatter them. Then we mop up."

Kate’s eyes gleamed, her lips curling in a confident smirk. "Got it," she said, drawing her staff up in one hand as a blood orb gathered around her palm.

Mark gave Damon a nod, power surging through his body, and the runes on his body lighting up. The three of them then made their move simultaneously.

Damon jumped right in the middle of the campfire, the fire not even giving him a sting anymore. The orcs surrounding the bonfire froze in shock and stared at him dumbfoundedly.

Damon took this chance and instantly slashed at two of them. Blood spurted across the snow like a crimson blossom. Damon’s eyes glinted as he twisted his daggers, his shadow clone appearing behind another orc and carving it open in a single, fluid motion.

The orcs roared in anger and finally jumped into action. They charged at the lone human who dared to enter their encampment alone.