Hellbound: Rebirth Of The Strongest Slayer.

Chapter 91 91: Strike or Be Drained

"Enter."

His voice came again from the bed.

Cold. Commanding.

None of them moved.

Not one.

One of the six suddenly turned and bolted for the door, survival crushing every other thought.

She did not even take two full steps.

A terrifying force seized her.

Invisible.

Overwhelming.

She was ripped off her feet and flung straight into the Lord's bedroom.

She tried to resist when he mounted her. She struggled. She pushed.

Then her resistance shattered.

Pleasure swallowed her whole.

Her moans filled the chamber, louder than the previous woman's. Desperate. Uncontrolled.

But no one outside felt aroused anymore.

They knew.

They knew how it would end.

They were right.

The moaning cut off abruptly.

Replaced by muffled screams.

The sound of limbs thrashing.

Then silence.

Moments later, her empty husk floated out of the bedroom.

Drained.

Lifeless.

It drifted through the window and disappeared into the night.

That was the breaking point.

The remaining women sprinted for the doors.

All of them.

Better to die at the hands of his underlings later than be used like this. Better to bleed fighting than be drained in his bed.

They grabbed the handles.

Pulled.

Pushed.

The doors did not budge.

They slammed their fists against the wood. Kicked. Threw their weight against it.

Nothing.

Then a force exploded outward.

They were blasted back, crashing hard onto the floor.

Blood pooled from their mouths.

"Do not waste those precious liquids," the monster's voice drifted lazily from behind the curtains.

He pulled them aside slightly, looking at the women sprawled on the ground.

Despair.

Terror.

Broken faces.

All of them.

Except one.

The one with soft raven black hair.

She stood straighter than the rest. Shaken, yes. But not shattered.

Strong willed.

His eyes lingered.

I will keep her for last.

Selene felt it.

That gaze.

He pointed at another woman.

"You. Come."

She did not even get the chance to protest.

The same invisible force yanked her into the bedroom as if she were being swallowed by a black hole.

Black hole.

The thought flashed across Selene's mind.

What's a black hole?

Probably Something that devours everything.

If such a thing existed, it would feel like this.

She shoved the useless thought aside.

Not now.

Inside, the woman began moaning almost instantly, her voice thick with overwhelming pleasure.

Selene's fists clenched tightly.

Soon it would be her turn.

She already understood what he was doing.

He was feeding.

Yes, he could simply kill them and drink their blood from those bottles.

So why the act?

Why the coupling?

It was simple.

He was pushing their bodies to the peak of pleasure. Forcing their inner energy to surge, to mix with their blood at its most vital state.

Then he drained them.

Every drop.

The more energy infused into the blood, the sweeter it became.

More nourishing.

More useful.

It aided his cultivation.

But these women were weak.

They would not be enough to break whatever bottleneck he was facing.

Not yet.

The entire scavenger organization he built was for this very purpose.

To feed him.

To push him higher.

Since I cannot escape, Selene thought, her fingers slowly brushing against her waist.

A small kunai rested there.

And not just there.

Hidden along her thighs. Beneath her sleeves. Against her back.

Blades.

Thin wires.

Poison needles.

She had prepared for death.

If she was going to die, she would not die quietly.

I will need to make my move soon.

Her heart thumped harder now.

Inside the bedroom, the moaning grew louder.

Then it began to tremble.

Selene's eyes sharpened.

Her moment was coming.

And when it did, she would either kill a monster.

Or become his sweetest drink yet.

If I do not kill him soon, I will not live past tonight.

Selene's eyes had been trembling before.

Now they hardened.

Cold.

Certain.

The moment he goes for the kiss.

That was when he seemed least responsive to the outside world. The moment he closed his eyes. The moment his focus narrowed.

That would be her strike.

No hesitation.

No second thought.

Kill or be drained.

--------

Meanwhile, back in another part of the massive scavenger base, Callck frowned as he stared out the small window of the room he had taken over.

"So that's all for now," he muttered.

He turned around.

Ten scavengers lay dead on the floor.

They had come knocking after noticing that few of them have suddenly went missing.

He had lured them in.

One by one.

Slaughtered them.

He could not risk his rescue plan being ruined again.

He had planned to launch it yesterday.

But the sudden influx of elites flooding the streets forced him to hold back. It was as if they were preparing for something.

Even one elite could threaten his life.

Several roaming around?

That was suicide.

So he hid.

And decided to move at dawn.

Only a few hours remained.

Callck inhaled slowly.

He was no longer weak.

He had stepped into the fourth stage of the Awakening Realm. His awakening sphere was further fortified. Stronger than before.

But he was not delusional.

The fight ahead would be brutal.

Extremely brutal.

Still.

He would survive.

With his wife.

And he would find his baby boy, Rayden.

No matter what.

---------

Deep underground, the scavenger elites had their own storm brewing.

Twelve figures sat in a dim chamber carved from stone.

Once, there had been over a hundred of them.

Now only twelve remained.

"So," one of them said, a man with a wild white mohawk and scarred face, "when are we rebelling against him?"

His voice was low, dangerous.

"If we are going to kill that bastard, it has to be now."

Contrary to what outsiders believed, the scavenger top elites did not serve the Lord out of loyalty.

Not respect.

Not awe.

Fear.

He was not one of them.

He was an outsider.

An invader who slaughtered their previous leader and took over their village with nothing but a flick of his hand.

Their former leader had been a Channeling Realm expert.

He died like an insect.

Since then, they had been forced into becoming rogues, bandits, hunters for his pleasure.

They obeyed because they dared not refuse.

Out of the hundred elites who once stood together, most had not died to beasts.

Not to rogue hunters.

Not even to cultivators.

Most had been drained by him.

Turned into drinks.

They had long harbored the will to kill him.

But their strength was lacking.

They were waiting.

Waiting for the right time.

The perfect time.

"I do not think this is viable," a man holding a massive warhammer said coldly.

If anyone from the Dravenheart had been there, they would have recognized him instantly.

Poto.

"Taking down that monster will not be easy," poto continued. "And now is not ideal. We do not even know his current cultivation realm. The fact that he killed our former leader so effortlessly proves we are far below him."

The others nodded grimly.

They knew.

They had always known.

But that did not mean they would give up.

They would kill that monster wearing human skin.

Even if it cost them everything.

"There is no need to argue among ourselves."

A red haired man finally spoke.

His tone was soft. Monotone.

Yet the others unconsciously straightened.

The reverence in their eyes was obvious.

He was not just another elite.

He was the strongest among them.

His awakening sphere was nearing full convergence. He was on the verge of reaching the next realm after the Awakening Realm.

The gap between him and the rest was vast.

Very vast.

"When the time comes," he said calmly, eyes half lidded, "we will strike. And when we do, we will not miss."

And he was the smartest among them.

So naturally, they listened.

"We wait," he said calmly. "Let him finish this cultivation session. And the next one."

His red eyes were steady. Calculating.

"If my guess is right, he will soon reach his limit again and attempt another breakthrough. That is when he is most vulnerable."

His fingers tapped lightly on the stone table.

"That is when we strike. All at once. No hesitation. Before he stabilizes."

"And we end him on the spot."

They nodded.

One by one, they left the underground chamber.

The red haired man remained behind for a moment.

Edir.

His hand clenched slowly into a fist.

He could still see it.

That day.

The monster who now called himself their Lord had ended his father. The previous leader. A proud Challenging Realm expert.

Killed like nothing.

Then drained dry.

Right in front of him.

Edir's jaw tightened.

He would get his revenge.

He had waited this long.

He would wait longer if he had to.

But he would kill that monster with his own two hands.

Still.

There was another thought at the back of his mind.

The masked ones.

They had stood in the concubine chambers for over a decade.

Never moving.

Never speaking.

So still they almost seemed unreal.

Would they interfere?

Would they help him?

Edir doubted it.

But they were variables.

And he did not ignore variables.

If they interfered, he would adapt.

The plan would not fail.

It could not fail.

He would kill that damned monster.

That was his promise.

What none of them knew.

Not the scavenger leader.

Not Selene.

Not Callck.

Not the elites plotting underground.

Was that every single one of their plans was about to be overturned.

Minutes later.

Outside the massive scavenger base.

Soft footsteps echoed through the clearing.

Two figures emerged from the shadows.

A massive black furred wolf stepped into the moonlight. A crimson horn rose from its forehead, gleaming faintly.

Sitting atop the beast was a baby boy no older than a year.

Rayden.

His face was calm.

Almost serene.

He stared at the large base in the distance. Torches flickered along the walls. Thousands of scavengers moved within. Armed men patrolled the perimeter.

"They have an army," Rayden said quietly.

"A strong one."

Then he smiled.

His eyes glowed a deep, hellish red.

"But so do I."

The moonlight shifted.

And the shadows behind him came alive.

Hundreds.

No.

Thousands.

Beasts lined the forest.

Red horned wolves.

Blue horned wolves.

White gorillas with muscles like carved stone.

Several many more beast from all over the forest.

Claws scraped against earth.

Fangs gleamed.

Their primal instincts surged outward, thick and oppressive, making the very air feel heavy.

An army.

Wild.

Savage.

Ready for war.

Rayden's gaze swept over the enemy fortress one last time.

Then he spoke through the mental link, his voice clear in every beast's mind.

"Everyone ready."

A pause.

"The operation to destroy the scavengers begins now."

To be continued.