SSS Awakening: Rebirth of the Strongest Vampire God -
Chapter 251: An incomprehensible soul
Chapter 251: An incomprehensible soul
Damon gave a small nod.
"We can start right here if you please." Artimius pointed to the terrace in front of him.
"Just like that?"
"Yes. The water is calming, and I am in my best state at the moment. There is no reason to delay it. Just sit cross-legged right in front of me."
Damon didn’t hesitate. He walked a few steps forward and sat down on the cold stone, cross-legged, facing Artimius. The pain in his body flared as he moved, his soul reacting violently to even the smallest shift in mana. But he gritted his teeth and endured it. If there was even a chance to stop the splintering, he would take it.
Artimius knelt in front of him, placing his soul sword to the side. He extended both hands, palms facing Damon. "Close your eyes," he instructed. "Focus only on your breathing. Let the sound of the waves guide you."
Damon obeyed. The world faded around him as he concentrated on the rhythm of the sea. Inhale. Exhale. Over and over. Gradually, the buzz of mana began to hum more steadily in the background.
Soon, the temperature around them dropped slightly, and a pale silver light began to glow between the two of them, forming an intricate rune circle on the floor. Faint motes of light rose into the air like fireflies, spinning slowly, orbiting around them both.
"I’m going to reach into the cracks," Artimius said softly. "You’ll feel pressure. You’ll feel pain. Don’t resist it. Let it pass through you."
And then it began.
Damon felt something delicate brush against his soul, gentle at first, like the tip of a feather touching a wound. Then it pressed deeper, and the pain hit. Not physical. It was the kind that made your heart lurch, your memories flicker, your very identity scream. The kind of pain that made you question what was real.
He grunted, jaw clenched. "I can take this." Damon panted, his determination firm.
Artimius smiled faintly, eyes still closed. "It’s only the beginning."
The ocean roared around them, wind swirling. The silver light between them pulsed, growing brighter.
Threads of mana stretched out from Artimius’s hands, weaving into Damon’s chest, not into his body, but into the shattered lattice of his soul. Each thread sought a fracture, a splinter, a crack, and gently wrapped around it like stitching a torn cloth.
Damon’s breath hitched as pain flooded his mind. More pain and then more pain. There was nothing else except for the pain. He was gasping now, sweat beading on his brow despite the cold. But he didn’t pull away. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
But on the other side, Artimius’ condition was worse than his. The old man was shivering and trembling uncontrollably. Blood was seeping out of all of his orifices, and he was drenched in sweat and blood from top to bottom.
It looked like he had also vastly underestimated what he had set out to do. Damon’s soul was unlike anything he had ever encountered.
Artimius only suggested this technique with confidence because he had used it many times on his clan members when they had destroyed theirs in an accident or by drawing out too much soul energy.
But this... this was something else entirely.
Damon’s soul wasn’t just cracked or splintered, it was warped. There was no natural symmetry, no gentle flow to follow. It was a battlefield. An incomprehensible soul. An ever-shifting storm of soul shards. Every thread of mana that Artimius sent out was met with resistance. These were not soul fragments he could casually touch.
Artimius gritted his teeth, forcing another thread into a spiraling fracture. His vision blurred, the runes swimming in his sight. He coughed hard, blood splattering against the glowing rune circle. Damon was still holding firm in the heart of that storm, silently screaming through the agony, refusing to fall apart.
"Not yet." Artimius gritted. He did not want to fail him. Even though he was going to face a severe backlash for this, he wanted to give it one more try, one more shot.
Artimius pressed his trembling hands together, forcing a deeper surge of mana through his veins and squeezing every bit of soul energy that he could.
His soul sword vibrated faintly from where it lay beside him, reacting instinctively to his pain, but he ignored it. He bit down hard enough to draw blood, channeling everything he had left into one last stabilizing weave.
This time, Artimius didn’t try to mend the soul. He simply focused on binding the chaos, restraining the cyclone of fragmented will and warped essence, anchoring it just enough to stop the bleeding.
Damon suddenly tensed. His body jerked, and a growl tore from deep in his throat, half-pain, half-raw fury. Then suddenly the pain stopped. Not completely, but enough for him to regain his sanity.
Artimius collapsed forward, barely able to catch himself with one arm. His face was pale, his lips bloodstained, his body shaking uncontrollably.
Damon opened his eyes slowly, breath ragged. The pain hadn’t vanished, but it was no longer breaking him apart. For the first time since the wyrm’s attack, the pressure inside his chest had steadied. It was like being balanced on the edge of a blade, but it was balance, nonetheless.
He looked at the old man slumped before him. He let out a sigh and gently lifted him up before he teleported to one of the rooms inside the castle and placed the old man on the bed to allow him to rest. "Thank you for doing this for me," Damon said with sincerity.
Artimius managed a smile, faint and cracked even with his eyes closed. "You would’ve done the same... if it were me. You did not join me, Blood God, but in the end, it looks like I have joined you. We are allies now. I have to do at least this much for you."
Damon smiled. It looked like they had indeed become allies.
"This old man is once again out of commission for a while. Can you keep an eye on my Sylvara?" Artimius collapsed completely after that.
Damon nodded and then left the room.
***
Golden ticket bonus Chapter~~
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