SSS Awakening: Rebirth of the Strongest Vampire God novel Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Find him and bring him to me

A thin trail of steam curled up from the cauldron, curling like a serpent into the open air. Damon crouched nearby, one knee on the mossy ground, arms folded as he watched the potion brew. The teal water bubbled softly, releasing a faint herbal scent—crisp, clean, with a whisper of magic beneath.

His expression remained neutral, but internally, he was measuring every second, tracking the viscosity shift, the temperature climb, the color gradient.

First of all, he did not even know if he would be able to do alchemy, considering how he couldn't really select a class with his weird status.

Second, he had no experience with alchemy. All he had was his prior knowledge of this shortcut recipe.

Damon frowned slightly as the teal liquid began to deepen in color, its hue shifting toward sapphire. This should be the right time. He added another Mistleaf herb to the concoction. "Here goes nothing."

He held his breath as he waited and watched the crucial point. The potion hissed as the final Mistleaf dissolved, releasing a flare of bioluminescent light that shimmered across the surface of the brew.

Damon didn't blink. The sapphire hue darkened, deepened, then slowly began to glow, faint but steady, and then it happened.

[Ding! Alchemical Fusion Successful.]

[Ding! You have crafted a Basic Mana Potion (Tier 0+).]

[Effect: Restores 60 MP over 10 seconds. Cooldown: 30 seconds.]

[Ding! You have learned the skill [Alchemy]]

A slow, incredulous smile crept across Damon's face as the notifications flashed in front of him. "Hah," he exhaled, soft and sharp, almost a laugh. "Looks like I still got it."

He prepared to take a sip of the potion when suddenly he realized something. He had forgotten to ask the girl for some glass vials or a ladle. Without these, he had no way to store or drink the potion without chugging it straight from the bubbling cauldron like some kind of deranged soup addict.

Damon stared at the gently glowing brew. "Right," he muttered dryly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Genius potion crafter. Zero logistics."

He glanced around the clearing, hoping to spot anything even remotely useful. A hollowed-out gourd? A discarded flask? Hell, even a coconut would've been nice. But the forest offered nothing except leaves, moss, and the occasional nosy beetle.

He slammed his fist onto the table beside him, cracking the wooden frame and sending an empty mug flying to the floor. The ceramic shattered, but he barely noticed. His mind was stuck in the game—on him. On Blood God.

That smug, cold-eyed freak who had humiliated him in front of his team. The same guy he had underestimated. The same one who fought like a veteran and moved like a ghost. "How the hell does a level one do that? What the fuck even is he? How is he so strong? This is some bullshit!"