CHAPTER 322: NOTHING SPECIAL HERE

Damon ran at his full speed, or rather at the speed he wanted his stalker to think was his full speed. Even though he was brimming with excitement inwardly, none of it could be seen on his face. He looked genuinely terrified as he tried to scramble the hell out of this place.

The poisonous mist whipped past him in blurred streaks as Damon darted between shattered boulders and warped tree husks, his legs splashing through puddles of blackened sludge. His every movement was calculated, just enough stumble here, just enough ragged breath there, to sell the image of prey fleeing for its life. The perfect bait.

A VIP was watching him. It was only polite to put on a good show for the big boss!

Behind him, the cacophony of the advancing horde was deafening. The sickly thud of clawed feet striking corrupted earth, the guttural howls of beasts too far gone for reason, the wet gurgles of bloated monstrosities bursting as they trampled over each other. The miasma itself seemed to pulse with their bloodlust, curling into long tendrils that chased him like spectral hands.

Naturally, Damon’s plan was never to outrun these tasty meals. In due time, he allowed himself to be swallowed by the charging horde, exactly what was supposed to happen to anyone foolish enough to fight in this terrain.

Damon found himself hemmed in on all sides by the corrupted monstrosities, his gaze darting in pure, desperate terror. Blood spheres appeared around him, shooting outward in all directions.

A plain and simple blood lance flashed in his hands, which he used to skewer the first creature that lunged at him, its skull popping like an overripe fruit under the crimson spear’s force. The impact sent a spray of steaming ichor across the blackened ground, sizzling where it landed.

Another beast barreled in from his flank, and Damon’s lance blurred in a horizontal arc, carving through three torsos at once before dissolving into mist that reformed in his other hand.

The blood spheres spun faster, weaving between bodies with unerring precision, piercing eyes, throats, and joints. Each kill sent a fresh rush of corrupted vitality into him, his vampiric hunger greedily siphoning strength from the fallen.

Yet on his face, the mask of panic never faltered, eyes wide, breaths ragged, movements seemingly frantic to any observer. Even though notifications were popping up like crazy, pouring in skills and stats continuously, there was only desperation on his face. It was as if he were fighting for his life on the verge of collapse.

Damon had a feeling that his rock-solid information was probably not as rock-solid as he wanted it to be. He couldn’t ignore the evidence in front of him, staring at his face, even though he had his past life knowledge. He would be a fool to do so.

His chance of winning this fight was also probably low, if anything at all. He needed as many aces up his sleeve as possible. Deliberately leading his observer to think he was failing and weakened was probably the best card he could play right now.

If the stalker thought he was burning through his stamina, bleeding resources just to keep the swarm at bay, then when it finally moved in for the kill, it would do so carelessly. This could potentially be his best shot at winning this whole damn thing or getting out of here alive.

Meanwhile, he did not forget to message Kaelthorn even though he was amidst the ’fight of his life’.

"Go around and start collecting the gold coins. You’d better have a billion gold coins when we are ready to leave this place!"

He knew he was asking for the impossible from the man, but he wanted to see just how far Kaelthorn was willing to go to obey his order.

Besides, all the miasma in the area was gathering in his location, lighting up his passive boosts like Christmas lights. The corrupted beings were also here. The complete attention of the big boss was here. The guy would essentially be walking around and opening treasure chests.

He should be able to achieve this much. The man proved to be resourceful enough until now, but Damon needed to know if he could really count on him when it mattered the most. Words were words, and actions were actions.

"Come on, Kaelthorn! Bring this home!" He shrieked some more as if he was in pain and even took a couple of hits as he pushed away another abomination.

The abominations pressed closer, fangs gnashing, claws raking the air, and Damon doubled over with a convincing grunt of pain, blood splattering across the corrupted ground. At the same time, he caught the faint ping of Kaelthorn’s acknowledgment.

Good. Now let’s see if the man had the guts to stroll through a poisoned battlefield while the devil himself threw a welcome party on the other side.

The horde churned around Damon like a living tide, snapping and clawing, their bodies pressing close enough that the reek of rotting venom clung to his skin. He let himself stumble, knees buckling just enough to make it look like his footing had given way.

A beast lunged for his throat, and he barely twisted aside, the swipe grazing his cheek and leaving a burning line of poison. It did nothing for him, but he flinched anyway.

He slowed down, he took hits, and he was even bleeding profusely. He was only barely hanging on as he continued to kill one corrupted monster after another.

Meanwhile, deep inside the tall mountain, a pair of eyes glowed faintly in the dark. Slitted pupils narrowed as they tracked Damon’s every movement through the haze, drinking in the false staggers, the desperate swings, the trail of carnage he left behind.

"Hmph... little thief," the voice that rolled out was smooth and cold, a hiss curling at the edge of each word. "You disappoint me. Not as special as I hoped."

It shifted slightly, the sound of scales dragging over stone. "And yet..." A low chuckle reverberated through the cavern. "You lasted longer than the others, but you, too, will fall and become mine."

A pulse of corrupted mana radiated outward as it gave a lazy, almost dismissive grunt. Immediately, shadows stirred. From the darkness emerged a group of humanoid beasts

These beasts also had slit-like eyes, but they were a lot more humanoid than monstrous. They had scales just like the massive beast and a vicious lashing tail, but they were bipedal. All of them bowed before the massive creature in reverence, patiently waiting for the order.

The creature’s gaze lingered on the swirling image of Damon in the haze. "Take care of that intruder," it said, each syllable dripping with venomous command. "He has potential... and I want his vessel. If he doesn’t yield to the corruption in the miasma, take him to the lake and drown him there."

The humanoid creatures did not answer. They didn’t need to. Their obedience was absolute. With a single flick of the beast’s tail, they quickly disappeared and appeared outside the mountain. Their gaze then flickered to the site of disturbance in the distance.

Who was this foolish creature who dared enter their sacred lands?!

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