Tales of the Endless Empire
Chapter 203: A Desperate Struggle

"Haha! There's nothing you can do to make me talk, bloodbag," the vampiress sneered, her voice laced with defiance as Thalion carried her deeper into the dimly lit corridors of his domain. The stone walls pulsed with a faint crimson glow, veins of ancient magic running through them like lifeblood. Ahead, the air grew heavier, charged with the lingering energy of suffering and power. At the end of the passage, a towering black pillar stood waiting—a relic long starved of its purpose.

Despite her current state, the vampiress radiated newfound arrogance, emboldened by her victory over Amalia. That won’t last long, Thalion thought. She had misunderstood one crucial detail. She assumed he had dragged her down here to extract information through pain.

She was wrong.

Oh, he would definitely torture her—but not for answers. No, her agony would serve a far greater purpose. The pillar needed fuel, and her suffering would be the perfect offering. More importantly, he needed her eyes. Not to torment her, but to claim their power for himself. Even if he had wanted information, he wouldn't have trusted anything she spat out after being broken. There were plenty more vampires coming for him—ones with weaker minds, easier to crack. Amalia would handle them. If she failed, well... keeping her alive would become more of a liability than an asset.

Thalion had abandoned the cumbersome chains that had originally bound the vampiress. Instead, she was now restrained by the Sanguine Thorn, a parasitic vine coiling tightly around her limbs. Unlike metal shackles, the Thorn had a hunger of its own. Even now, it yearned to burrow beneath her ribs, to coil around her heart and drain her dry. Holding it back was proving to be exhausting.

"Gods damn it, can’t you rein in your bloodlust for one moment? You’ll get everything after I take her eyes." Thalion sent the message telepathically, his patience wearing thin.

The Thorn responded, its thoughts feral and insatiable.

"Hunger. Feast. Power."

A wave of raw bloodlust surged through their bond, powerful enough to make even Thalion's soul tremble. He clenched his jaw.

"Yes, when I’m done with the eyes, you can have everything. Just hold back until then—this is getting really tiring."

"Devour. Now?" the Thorn pressed again, testing his resolve.

Thalion exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to snap.

"Listen. You may not realize it yet, but in the coming days, multiple vampires with their own Sanguine Thorns will be coming for me. If I’m not strong enough by then, you’ll miss out on a much greater feast. So just—wait."

With that, he forcibly silenced the Thorn. The writhing vines hesitated before reluctantly stilling.

The vampiress, watching him closely, let out a slow, bloody smile. It might have been menacing—if not for the fact that most of her teeth had been shattered or knocked loose.

"You’re no vampire," she mused, her voice hoarse but laced with amusement. "No wonder your thoughts don’t align with the Thorn."

Thalion didn’t bother responding. In his mind, she was already dead—merely raw material to temper his body and refine his strength.

As Amalia had kept the vampiress distracted, Thalion had been preparing. He had ordered special tools from Lucan—an altar engraved with ancient runes, its centerpiece a small indentation at the top, perfectly designed for his next ritual. The process would have been easier with a proper hammer, but he was confident he could manage. He had also acquired a potent healing potion to ensure the vampiress survived just long enough.

Then there were the spike balls—specially crafted to be inserted into her empty eye sockets, preventing any regeneration until his work was complete. She doesn’t know about those yet, he thought, amused. That explained her arrogance.

That was, until she felt it.

As they entered the chamber, the pillar’s aura of fear and despair slammed into her like a physical force. Her breath hitched. Her bravado wavered.

"W-what is that?" she whispered, her eyes darting between Thalion and the looming structure.

Thalion didn’t answer. He simply pressed her into the pillar, releasing the Sanguine Thorn’s hold on her. Only her head remained free, her body locked in place.

The pillar’s influence took hold immediately. The vampiress stiffened, her bravado crumbling as a flicker of true terror crept into her wide, unblinking gaze. The pillar fed on suffering, and already, it was drinking in her fear.

For now, she was holding strong.

That would change soon.

Thalion studied his tools, his gaze drifting between the two variations of his Runic Spoon—one smooth, the other lined with jagged spikes. He had considered using the spiked one, but that would risk damaging the very prize he sought.

No, he would do this properly.

In hindsight, it had been a foolish idea. But perhaps, just perhaps, he would find some use for it later.

"What is that for?" the vampiress asked, her voice strained with apprehension as Thalion retrieved the runic spoon.

He remained silent, stepping toward her with deliberate slowness. That was when her composure finally shattered. She thrashed against the restraints, the weight of the situation pressing down on her like a vice. The oppressive aura of the pillar, combined with Thalion’s unsettling silence, had broken through whatever defiance she had left. Her breath hitched. Her lips quivered. Then, to his mild amusement, she began to cry.

<--

Kaldrek stood atop the tower, the cold night air brushing against his skin as he surveyed the battlefield below. Beside him, Maike stood in tense silence, her brows furrowed in worry. The sight before them was grim—undead forces stretched as far as the eye could see, their twisted forms illuminated by the pale moonlight. The sheer number of them was staggering. Worse, they were not just more numerous but far stronger than anything they had faced before.

The only silver lining was that the enemy had yet to launch their assault. Their forces were still gathering, a monstrous tide coiling in the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Yet, even without attacking, their presence was suffocating. The more powerful vampires occasionally released surges of their terrifying aura, sending waves of bloodlust crashing over the defenders on the walls. Each time, the human warriors shuddered under its weight, their morale dipping lower. These were no ordinary vampires. They operated on an entirely different level from anything they had fought before.

Kaldrek tightened his grip on the stone railing. Had it not been for Jim’s formations bolstering them, he wouldn’t have felt confident in lasting seconds against these creatures. And even with those reinforcements, they were at a severe disadvantage. Thalion was strong, certainly, but he was only one man. He could not hold off two hundred elite vampires on his own.

Despite their dire odds, they weren’t defenseless. The fortress city had formidable defensive measures—powerful enchantments lined the walls, amplifying the strength of their mages. Giant catapults stood ready, capable of hurling devastating magical bombs with an explosion radius of over twenty meters. But they all knew how this battle would unfold.

The vampires would use their undead hordes as fodder, sending them to storm the walls first. The defenders would be forced to cut them down by the thousands. And when enough blood soaked the battlefield, the true horror would begin. The vampires would use that blood to fuel their strongest attacks, unleashing devastating waves of destruction upon the city.

The last battle had been won only because Thalion personally intervened, fighting the strongest vampires head-on. But that battle had been against a mere handful of them. This time, over two hundred of the most fearsome creatures stood poised to strike.

At least they had some reinforcements. Kargul and Evelyn had returned, both stronger than before. The four shapeshifters they had brought with them were no pushovers either. And, of course, there was the Sky Turtle, a massive beast that loomed over the city, its sheer presence an imposing force of nature. Yet, even with all of them working together, taking down just one of the stronger vampires would be a monumental task.

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Then there was the issue of the battlefield itself. The vampires would hold the advantage outside the walls, where blood would coat the ground, giving them access to even greater power. While the defenders had numbers on their side, sheer numbers alone wouldn’t be enough. Their ranks consisted of sixteen thousand people—a large force, but with significant limitations.

Half of them weren’t even level eighty and would contribute little in a fight of this scale. Another two thousand were craftsmen or non-combatants, having long since abandoned the fighting aspect of their classes. That left roughly six thousand warriors, many of whom had only barely reached E-grade—capable enough against the undead, but utterly outmatched against the vampires.

Their one significant advantage lay in their skyships.

Dozens of sleek scouting vessels hovered over key locations in the city, prepared to provide rapid support where needed. The largest warships floated just beyond the outer walls, their enchanted cannons primed to rain destruction upon any attacking vampire. The smaller vessels were scattered across different heights, ready to transport fighters or reinforce overwhelmed positions.

The strongest warriors had been stationed along the front walls and aboard the battleships, ensuring they could make the greatest impact. Healers, on the other hand, had been positioned along the first of the three defensive walls—close enough to tend to the wounded but far enough from the initial clashes.

The walls themselves glowed with arcane energy, forming a shimmering blue barrier that extended thirty meters above the stone fortifications, culminating in a massive dome that enveloped the entire city.

This shield was their greatest asset. It allowed them to strike at the enemy without obstruction, while repelling any attack launched from the outside.

But the shield was not impenetrable.

It would hold against the initial waves, but once the vampires unleashed their full assault, the protective barrier would rapidly lose its strength.

Kaldrek exhaled slowly, watching the restless undead below. It was only a matter of time. The vampires would come. The walls would be breached.

And when that happened, they would have to be ready.

Kaldrek exhaled sharply as yet another report arrived from the lookouts. More vampires. More undead. Another wave appearing on the savanna, their numbers swelling like a dark tide on the horizon.

"They're coming in greater numbers. It won’t be long before they attack," Maike said, her voice laced with unease. She stood beside him on the tower, her sharp gaze scanning the endless expanse beyond the city walls. "Are you confident in fighting one of the stronger ones?"

Kaldrek hesitated before answering. "I’m afraid not," he admitted, his tone grim. "Even with the formation strengthening me, I don’t believe I could defeat one of them outright. Their auras alone are suffocating."

That didn’t mean they were without hope. There were several E-grade warriors in their ranks, some even surpassing Kaldrek in raw strength. But strength alone wouldn’t be enough. Killing one of these vampires was an entirely different challenge. In truth, only Thalion stood a real chance of taking them down decisively.

Maike sighed, her hands tightening around the railing as she looked down at the city below. Thousands of people moved with purpose—setting traps, reinforcing barricades, preparing for the battle that would soon determine their fate. "Then let’s hope they don’t attack too soon. Thalion just sent word… he still needs time before he can join us."

She didn’t say it outright, but Kaldrek could hear the unspoken fear in her voice. If the vampires struck before Thalion was ready, they would be facing a massacre.

<--

"This is unacceptable!" Valeria's voice thundered through the chamber, her bloodlust saturating the air like a choking fog. Her crimson eyes glowed with fury as she glared at Elias. "We need every undead at our disposal to attack that base! And you should be joining the fight as well!"

She was barely keeping herself in check. Her sister hadn’t been killed—she had been taken. That meant the humans weren’t just strong… they were dangerous. It also meant that two sanguine thorns were now ripe for the taking. The vampires would descend upon the human city in full force. But the other undead? They had refused to commit their full strength. That decision had left them with barely half of their turned beasts.

It made breaching the human fortress infinitely more difficult. More risky.

They would still amass over twenty thousand undead, but it would take days to teleport them all. Days they didn’t have. Valeria had even personally scouted the giant human city, and its defenses were no joke. Skyships hovered above its walls, bristling with weaponry, and the vampires lacked the flying undead they needed to counter them.

They had a few Gliderfang Lions, but that wasn’t enough. In a desperate bid to change that, a group of two hundred vampires was now working with the blood witch to turn an entire bee colony—a swarm they intended to unleash against the airships.

Elias, however, remained entirely unmoved by her fury. He leaned back against his stone throne, his expression calm, unreadable. "I told you before, Valeria. We will not engage the humans where they are strongest." His voice carried no concern, no urgency. He wasn’t intimidated by her rage. "They captured one vampire. That is not enough to justify risking our entire army. The humans will come to us sooner or later—when they have no other choice."

Valeria’s nails dug into her palms. He was using the humans to weaken the vampires, twisting the situation to cement his own standing in the Council. And worse—the others agreed with him.

Nathaniel had sided with Elias, refusing to march the undead legions forward. Instead, he was content to wait in the desert for the humans to arrive.

It was a disaster. A complete disgrace.

But Valeria refused to be denied her prize. If the other undead wouldn’t help, she would throw everything against those walls herself. The sanguine thorns would be hers.

Two days had passed since her sister had been taken, and a gnawing question lingered in Valeria’s mind.

Why had they captured her?

Why not simply kill her?

It was a detail Elias found particularly interesting, but she had no intention of feeding him any more information.

They had spent a significant amount of blood teleporting their undead war beasts to the human stronghold. It would take another two days before everything was in position. The blood witch’s work on the beehive was also nearing completion, and once it was ready, she and the red orc would be part of their assault.

The orc, in particular, had been eager to join them. He claimed to have fought against this human fortress before—or so he assumed from their past encounters. Valeria didn’t care. She had promised him blood and body-tempering techniques, but they were hardly valuable.

The blood witch had made her demands as well. She wanted more vampires to assist her in spreading her blood curse. That was an easy arrangement. Valeria would simply assign weaker vampires to the task and be done with it.

If all went according to plan, she would soon be the strongest undead in this so-called "tutorial."

First, she would kill the human with the sanguine thorn. Then, she would turn her attention to her siblings.

With their deaths, her patron’s favor would be secured, and her power would rise to unprecedented heights.

The future looked promising. She only hoped the human wasn’t stronger than he seemed.

But if he was overestimating himself?

Then his failure would be her victory.