Tales of the Endless Empire
Chapter 205: Devouring One’s Own Kind

Maike watched in horror as Kaldrek barely dodged the acidic spit of an undead Venomarx, the venom sizzling where it struck the ground. The monstrous creatures had already been dangerous, but now, empowered by the crimson veins, they had become even deadlier.

She longed to intercept the ritual, to put an end to whatever dark magic was fueling the undead, but no one could get through. The vampires were hidden among the swarms of undead, lurking just behind the frontlines, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Worse still, an undead red wyvern circled high above the jungle, its empty eyes burning with eerie crimson light, guarding the very place where the ritual had to be unfolding.

Screams echoed through the battlefield as some warriors collapsed, impaled by jagged blood spears fired by the vampires. These attacks targeted the heavy warriors, those unable to fight from the safety of the wall, warriors forced into melee combat. Many managed to block or dodge, but others were wounded or killed instantly, their lifeblood mixing with the already soaked battlefield.

On the walls, mages and archers rained down attacks in an effort to support the melee fighters. But it was becoming increasingly difficult—the undead refused to fall, even when struck multiple times. Maike’s breath caught as she witnessed a hyenadon’s head explode from a well-placed spell, only for the crimson energy snaking through the battlefield to pull the pieces back together. It was as if these creatures were no longer truly alive—mere puppets, dancing to the will of the ritual’s master.

Some undead still fought with mindless aggression, but others… others were disturbingly intelligent. They launched attacks against the shield protecting the wall, deliberately obscuring the sightlines of the archers and spellcasters. This forced the melee warriors to take on more pressure than ever before, and more and more undead began slipping through the ring of destruction created by the fortress’s defensive weapons.

From time to time, vampires joined the fray, engaging in the melee battle—but they retreated just as quickly, avoiding prolonged fights. Some of the weaker ones fell, slain by skilled warriors or empowered arrow shots, but Maike knew the truth.

The real threats were still holding back.

She narrowed her eyes. The strongest vampires hadn’t even entered the battle yet. They stood in the distance, watching. Waiting. Patient. Calculating. Maike clenched her fists. She was certain of their plan—they were waiting for the first breach in the wall. The moment that happened, they would strike at full force.

And that breach was only a matter of time.

The undead numbers were overwhelming. Even as warriors rotated out, replacing the fallen or injured, it wouldn’t be enough. They couldn't commit all their forces yet—if they clustered too many warriors at the front, they would only get in each other’s way. Instead, reinforcements had to hold back, waiting for the inevitable moment the walls crumbled.

Maike refused to let it come to that. She barked orders, directing fighters to support their struggling comrades, ensuring that the front line held as long as possible.

But no matter where she looked, there was death.

Pure carnage.

Blood soaked the ground. Explosions tore apart the battlefield, sending chunks of undead flying. The air reeked of decay and burning flesh, the screams of the dying blending into the chaos.

She had sent multiple messages to Thalion.

But there had been no response.

Her jaw tightened. What the hell was that madman doing?

<--

"Ah, fuck!"

Thalion’s body convulsed, muscles spasming violently as pain lanced through him. His hands trembled, drenched in blood—his own blood. He could barely breathe, the agony so intense it blurred the edges of his vision.

His second eye had just been ripped from its socket.

The pain was excruciating, but it had to be done. He had to ensure his eyes wouldn’t regenerate before he implanted the new ones. He had already shoved a spiked ball into each empty socket once before—if his original eyes grew back, he would have to cut them out again, and he never wanted to experience that pain twice.

It had taken so damn long.

His entire body was drained, his energy reserves depleted from the ritual. The vampiress’s eyes had resisted fiercely, fighting against their fate. The power within them was far greater than he had anticipated, and he had been forced to sacrifice liters of his own essence blood to force them into submission.

He needed to rest.

To recover.

But he didn’t have time.

With shaking hands, he grabbed one of the vampiress’s eyes and pressed it against his left, empty socket. The moment it made contact, he felt it—the creeping, foreign sensation of something unnatural merging with his flesh.

He barely had time to react before searing agony exploded through him.

It was as if liquid fire had been poured into his skull. His breath caught, his body arching involuntarily as the eye began fusing to him. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before—not like a broken bone, not like a deep wound.

If he had to describe it, it was as if his eyes were being forcibly shattered and exposed, like broken teeth grinding against raw nerves.

Gritting his teeth, he reached for the spiked ball in his remaining socket.

With one swift, desperate movement, he yanked it free and slammed the second eye into place.

The moment it connected, a fresh wave of pain surged through him.

He let out a hiss of agony, his body collapsing to all fours, fingers digging into the bloodstained ground. His veins burned, a foreign power snaking through his body, setting every nerve ending ablaze.

The vampiress’s essence was invading him.

It raced through his veins, surged into his brain, filling him with an almost overwhelming force. His head felt like it was about to explode, his skull barely able to contain the sheer power flooding through him.

But Thalion’s will was unbreakable.

He forced himself up, legs trembling beneath him.

It had to be almost done.

The possibility that he might have permanently blinded himself never even crossed his mind.

Between the waves of mind-numbing pain, he forced himself to focus. Between each agonizing throb of power, he had seen Maike’s and Kaldrek’s messages.

Things were not going well.

And it seemed he would have to join the battle sooner than expected.

Over ten agonizing minutes passed before Thalion’s vision slowly returned. At first, it was blurry, a mess of shifting shadows and distorted shapes, but then—clarity. A newfound sharpness settled in, his field of vision not only restored but far more precise than before.

He blinked, adjusting to the change. No system notification? That was strange. Normally, the system acknowledged even minor advancements, yet now—nothing. No triumphant chime, no reassuring confirmation that the experiment had succeeded.

Frowning, Thalion opened his status screen, scanning for changes. His gaze caught on his perception stat—quadrupled.

"201? Damn, that vampiress must have had some truly powerful eyes," he thought, a grin slowly spreading across his face. But the real prize wasn’t just enhanced perception.

"What ability did you give me?" he mused, his fingers twitching in excitement as he scrolled further, heart pounding in anticipation. Then, he found it.

Bloodbound Sight (Ancient)

To a vampire, the world is not seen in mere light and shadow but in the currents of life itself. Every heartbeat is a beacon, every drop of blood a glimmer in the dark. Even in pitch-blackness, the vampire perceives the ebb and flow of vitality, sensing the warmth of living bodies and the hidden stirrings of those who seek to remain unseen.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Thalion exhaled, eyes flickering with excitement. "So it’s passive too," he thought, elation bubbling up inside him. He had endured excruciating pain, but now? Now it was all worth it.

Until now, he could only feel the power of blood. But with this? He could see it. Track it. Read it. It would change everything. No more blindly searching for lifeforce—it would be laid bare before him.

His gaze flicked back to the status screen. There was something else. A second ability. And this one—this one was legendary.

Crimson Gaze (Legendary)

The vampire's eye glows like smoldering embers, drawing in those who dare meet its gaze. A single moment of eye contact is all it takes—shadows coil at the edges of the victim’s vision, their limbs grow heavy, and whispers seep into their mind, drowning out reason. The world warps, twisting into a waking nightmare shaped by the vampire’s will.

Thalion stared at the description, his pulse spiking.

"Holy shit." His fingers tightened around the screen. The first lines already confirmed that this was something special. But the last sentence? That changed everything.

"I can plant illusions directly into their minds?" He nearly laughed in disbelief. How the hell did someone break free from that? Even their allies wouldn’t see the illusion—they couldn’t help. A skill like this? It was unfair.

He could barely contain his curiosity, but a sharp notification snapped him back to reality. He scrolled through his messages, and his grin vanished.

The battlefield was deteriorating fast. The vampires had buffed their undead to ridiculous levels, pushing forward at an alarming pace. And Maike had mentioned something else.

A wyvern in the distance.

Thalion’s mind immediately raced. If he could get his hands on wyvern parts, he might be able to enhance Eagly, pushing his beast toward something greater. Maybe—just maybe—this could be the first step toward evolving him into a wyvern. And from there? A stepping stone toward a true dragon.

His pulse quickened. He had no more time to waste.

Thalion dashed to where the vampiress was still trapped in the pillar, her body broken from the ritual’s torment. He grabbed her roughly, yanking her free. She collapsed onto the cold ground, her voice nothing more than a trembling whimper.

She had already spilled information about the strongest vampires and the elite undead forces. Could he trust her words? Maybe. But she didn’t look like she had anything left to hide.

Thalion barely spared her a glance. Instead, he reached for the spiked balls embedded in her eye sockets. With a sickening squelch, he ripped them free.

A garbled cry tore from the vampiress’s throat, her body shuddering violently. Thalion ignored her pain. He wasn’t done with her yet. He wanted to test his new abilities—and she was the perfect subject.

Not that she would live to tell the tale.

Besides, there was still a Sanguine Thorn growing beneath her heart. It was hungry. It had waited patiently during the ritual, but now? Now, it wanted its due.

Thalion smirked. First things first.

He tossed her a healing potion, its contents swirling with a faint crimson shimmer. Not out of kindness—he needed her eyes to regenerate. For the test.

He infused a bit of blood healing, using the essence provided by the Sanguine Thorn. The effects were immediate. Within two minutes, her eyes were whole again.

But the moment they opened—

A scream tore from her lips. Her hands flew to her face, trembling fingers clawing at her newly restored eyes. Terror warped her features, her breaths ragged.

"What have you done?!" she sobbed. Her head jerked up, empty pupils staring at nothing.

"My vision… what happened to me?"

Her voice cracked, breaking into a wail of despair.

"It’s so dull."

She couldn’t see as she once had. Her sight, once an instrument of power, was now nothing more than a hollow imitation of what it had been.

And Thalion?

He just smiled.

Thalion didn’t respond. He had long grown tired of people like her. They always proclaimed their mercilessness when they held power, boasting that they would slaughter without hesitation—and many times, they had. Yet, the moment they fell from grace, they became the biggest cowards, whining about how unfair and brutal the world was. Pathetic.

If Thalion ever lost, he would face it with dignity. He wouldn’t grovel. He wouldn’t beg. His gaze hardened as he locked eyes with the vampiress, his fingers twitching ever so slightly. Crimson Gaze.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment. A pressure, invisible yet suffocating, crushed down upon the vampiress. Her mind—defenses that had likely stood strong for centuries—shattered as if they had been made of brittle glass. But it wasn’t just her mind.

Her soul twisted, contorted, torn apart in ways she could neither comprehend nor resist. A silent scream lingered on her lips, but before she could react, the ability cut out—leaving her slumped over, her body trembling like a lifeless puppet whose strings had been severed.

Thalion exhaled sharply, irritated. "Tch. So that’s how it works?" He had expected illusions, a way to control what his victims saw, but instead, all he had done was ravage her soul beyond repair. No visions, no false realities—just raw, merciless destruction.

A shame. He had considered questioning her about her own experiences with the skill, but in her current state, she wouldn’t be talking anytime soon. He sighed. It was best to end this quickly and head to the battlefield.

Before dealing with the vampiress, Thalion reached into his coat and pulled out a small, polished mirror. He wanted to see them—his new eyes. Lifting the mirror to his face, he took in his reflection.

Behind the dark slits of his mask, where once human eyes had stared back at him, now two burning crimson embers glowed ominously. Brighter, fiercer than they had been in the vampiress. Her eyes had been a dull red, only igniting when she activated her abilities. His? They blazed constantly, a never-ending smolder of power.

A slow grin crept onto his lips. He looked like a true monster now. And he loved every bit of it. "Side quest: Obtain vampire eyes—complete," he thought with amusement, giving himself one final glance before snapping the mirror shut.

Then, without hesitation, he turned back to the broken vampiress and unleashed the Sanguine Thorn.

Vines in dark red, writhing, pulsing shot out from Thalion’s arm, stabbing into the vampiress’s motionless body like a swarm of ravenous serpents. Her form convulsed violently, bones snapping, flesh tearing, as the thorn invaded her completely, drinking in her lifeblood—and more importantly, the weaker Sanguine Thorn she had harbored within her chest.

For a brief moment, the other thorn fought back, its presence thrashing inside her corpse. But with its host already broken, its struggle was pitiful. It was overwhelmed instantly. Thalion gasped, his mind assaulted by carnage—a sickening, primal bloodlust surging through his very being as his Sanguine Thorn feasted upon its own kind.

It was… ecstatic. It howled inside his head, its hunger insatiable, its delight borderline euphoric. The sensation was twisted, intoxicating, as if the very fabric of his body was being rewoven into something greater. Power rushed through him. But this time, it wasn’t like before.

This wasn’t just another evolution. This was a transformation. Thalion gritted his teeth. His breathing grew ragged, sweat beading on his forehead as the realization struck him. "Shit." The Sanguine Thorn wasn’t just evolving. It was changing its race.

Before he could process what that meant, an intense, searing pain erupted from deep within his core, white-hot and all-consuming. Then— Agony. His vision blurred. His body locked up, and the world around him vanished into darkness.