Tales of the Endless Empire
Chapter 209: A Monster Among Monsters

Lucius carved his way through the battlefield, cutting down human after human with effortless precision. He moved too fast for them to react, his strikes landing before they even registered his presence. The real threat came from the skyships and the fortified towers, but he paid them little mind. Let them fire upon the undead beasts still roaming the streets—though, with Cathrin’s ritual interrupted, those creatures were no longer the overwhelming force they had once been.

Initially, they had posed a grave danger, but now, they were nothing more than playthings, weak and floundering, easy prey for the humans. The battlefield itself was steeped in blood, thick with the stench of death, and Lucius had never felt stronger.

There were humans capable of challenging him, but he avoided them, preferring to cut through the weaker ones while keeping an eye out for a particular target—the man with the Sanguine Thorn. It didn’t take long for him to appear, and the sight was nothing short of monstrous. Lucius watched in astonishment as the human tore through the city, slaughtering even vampires wielding Sanguine Thorns with terrifying ease.

It was madness. Never had he believed such a thing was possible. A mere human, standing against some of the strongest vampires in the tutorial—and winning? It defied all logic. The vampires, despite their arrogance and power, fell before him like leaves in the wind, unprepared for an enemy of this caliber.

Something about this felt far too convenient. The undead were failing, the turned beasts had been culled, and now even some of the vampires had perished. If Lucius waited for the right moment, he could claim a Sanguine Thorn for himself—perhaps from the human, but he wouldn’t mind slaying a fellow vampire if the opportunity arose.

It was, of course, a crime of the highest order among their kind, punishable by the worst possible fate. But that only mattered if someone lived to tell the tale. With a predator’s patience, Lucius slipped into the shadows, moving unseen as he trailed the human leader. He fed sparingly along the way, snatching up weaker humans and draining them dry before discarding their lifeless husks.

He found Thalion in the midst of battle, locked in combat with the Sanguine Thorn-wielding vampires. What he witnessed made his blood run cold.

“What a fucking monster,” Lucius muttered under his breath.

The human was fighting multiple Thorn-wielders at once—and holding his ground. This wasn’t normal. It shouldn’t be possible. Lucius had a skill, a gift from his patron, that allowed him to sense blessings. The vampires, of course, carried powerful blessings from one of the strongest vampire gods. But the human? Nothing. Not a trace of divinity. And yet, his power was undeniable. His eyes, sharp and piercing, looked eerily familiar—a stronger version of Valeria’s sister’s gaze. And his Sanguine Thorn… it was an abomination.

Compared to the wild ferocity of the human’s Thorn, the vampires’ versions seemed feeble, almost pathetic. Lucius knew how much blood had been sacrificed to empower their Thorns, yet against this man, they crumbled. The difference wasn’t just in thickness—the raw energy within the human’s vines was threefold, if not more.

Then there was his armor. Lucius hadn’t noticed it at first, hidden beneath that black coat, but after a glancing claw strike failed to penetrate, he realized—this wasn’t ordinary gear. It was stronger than anything he had ever seen, far surpassing his own armor, which was already of the highest rarity available in the system shop. The way it repaired itself, almost instantly, was mind-boggling. His weapon, too, was beyond anything Lucius had encountered.

This human… was an anomaly. A terrifying, impossible force.

For the first time, Lucius wondered if they had been tricked. The vampire who had given them intelligence on the human base—was he truly an informant, or had they been played? The attack had been a mistake. The vampires should have waited, let the humans make the first move. Now, nearly half of their turned beasts were gone, and the tide of battle was shifting. If they managed to kill the human leader and burn the base to the ground, it might still be worth it. But Lucius doubted that would happen.

The fight between the six Thorn-wielding vampires and the human was evenly matched—for now. But if the vampires made even a single mistake, the human would slaughter them. Lucius had no doubt about that. His swordsmanship was surgical, his blood manipulation absurdly refined. How? How could a mere human, with no prior exposure to mana or blood arts before the system, fight like this?

He moved as if he had eyes in the back of his head, dodging lethal attacks at the last possible moment with precision that bordered on inhuman. Every movement was calculated, every counterattack immediate.

Then there was his Thorn. It moved like a living entity, four crimson vines extending from his back, lashing out at any nearby vampire. But they weren’t random attacks—they targeted other Sanguine Thorns with eerie precision, lunging the moment a vampire summoned theirs, tearing them apart before consuming the remains.

Lucius narrowed his eyes.

What in the Nine Hells was this man?

The human’s vines moved with deadly precision, weaving intricate patterns to create openings for his attacks. Unlike the wild, ravenous tendrils that sprouted from his back, the ones that emerged from his arms struck with calculated intent, carving a path through the battlefield. The longer the fight dragged on, the more evident it became—vampires without a Sanguine Thorn stood no chance. The human showed no mercy. A single lapse in concentration, the smallest misstep, and he was there, cutting his foes apart before they could even react.

Their bodies didn’t remain on the ground for long. Each time a vampire fell, a crimson vine shot from the human’s back, piercing the corpse and consuming it in seconds. It was a grotesque sight—bones, flesh, and armor disintegrating as the Thorn devoured everything. It seemed that, due to the high blood affinity of vampires, their entire bodies could serve as nourishment.

Within moments, nothing remained of them. Was the human… winning? No, that couldn’t be possible. Lucius doubted another Thorn-wielding vampire would fall, but perhaps they would be too proud to use their escape tokens. The humiliation must be agonizing—being bested like this by a mere human.

One of the stronger vampires attempted a blood-based attack, shaping a weapon mid-air—but before it could fully materialize, the human seized control of the blood and smashed it into the vampire’s face. The force sent him hurtling backward, crashing into a stone wall with a sickening crunch. Lucius chuckled at the sight, amused by the sheer disbelief on the vampire’s face. Meanwhile, some of the others had abandoned their humanoid forms, assuming the monstrous, demonic shapes granted by their patron.

Lucius knew about that transformation. His own patron had spoken of it—a form of immense power, but one that burned through blood at an alarming rate. It placed the user on a strict timer, forcing them to kill quickly to sustain themselves. At least three of them had assumed this form, and their time was running out.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

The fact that the human was still keeping up with them, despite their heightened speed and strength, was insane. Lucius needed to stay out of his way. But if this continued as it was, there might be a moment to strike, a chance to eliminate one of the Thorn-wielding vampires and claim their power for himself.

The problem was that, if he did, the others would know. There would be no mistaking it. And as for the human… there was no chance of killing him. Even if he sustained injuries, he likely had an escape token of his own. But activating it left only one possible outcome for the human. His base would be fully destroyed.

The battle raged on, spilling across rooftops, through open streets, and back onto the buildings again. Each combatant’s aura was enough to make the air tremble. Yet something felt off. As Lucius observed, he realized something disturbing—the human wasn’t just holding his ground. He was getting stronger.

At first, the difference was nearly imperceptible. But now, it was undeniable. His attacks grew sharper, faster. His red slashes carried more weight, each swing infused with greater force. His entire fighting style adapted with frightening efficiency, as if he were learning with every move.

That… wasn’t how blood-users fought. Normally, they had a reservoir of blood, supplemented by their essence blood, which provided high regeneration. But unless they consumed more, their power would gradually wane. There were rare exceptions—some classes, like Nature Monks, constantly absorbed mana from their surroundings to maintain their strength. But this human? He wasn’t a Nature Monk. So how was this happening?

Lucius had assumed the human’s first struggle would be with mana depletion or stamina exhaustion. Instead, it looked like he was just getting started.

Now, even the vampires had noticed it. His aura kept rising, thickening like a tangible force pressing against the battlefield. The sheer killing intent pouring from him, combined with the monstrous presence of his Sanguine Thorn, was terrifying. In all his years, Lucius had never felt anything like it. The aura wasn’t just bloodlust—it was something worse. It was cold, calculating. It felt like this man viewed everything around him as nothing more than fuel for his ascent.

Lucius was suddenly very grateful that he had kept his distance. If he were any closer, he doubted his chances of survival without a escape token would be very high.

The vampires’ movements grew more desperate, but despite the blinding malice radiating from him, the human remained eerily composed. Every counter was precise, every reaction perfect. Then Lucius noticed something strange.

“Are they… Are they afraid to look him in the eyes?” he muttered in shock.

One of the vampires had deliberately averted his gaze, focusing instead on the human’s chest. But why?

Lucius’ gut twisted with unease. He quickly glanced around, ensuring no one had spotted him before returning his attention to the fight. What was happening? Could this human possess a stronger soul than a vampire? No, that wasn’t possible. He was already absurdly powerful—if he also had an enhanced soul, it would defy all logic. Yet the evidence was right in front of him. Not a single vampire dared meet his gaze.

Then it happened.

The vampire wielding a rapier managed to break through the human’s defense. Another vampire fired a shockwave, disrupting the human’s stance, and in that split second, the rapier found its mark. It sliced deep into his left shoulder, the impact cracking bone.

Lucius heard the fracture, the unmistakable snap.

But before the vampire could savor his victory, the Sanguine Thorn retaliated. Its crimson vines lashed out, piercing straight into the vampire’s chest. Lucius saw the flicker of panic in his eyes, but the vampire had been prepared. An escape token was already clutched in his hand. A heartbeat later, he vanished.

Still, Lucius could feel it. The Thorn had burrowed into his flesh before he escaped, drinking deep. Not enough to kill him outright, but the damage had been done. He wouldn’t be returning to this fight. Not now. Probably not ever.

Not that it mattered. He was already too far gone.

The vampires wasted no time pressing their advantage. A moment later, the human was sent crashing into a crumbling stone wall, the force of the kick too much for him to dodge. Dust and debris rained down as the impact left a deep indentation in the weathered stone. The entire battlefield seemed to pause, the echoes of the strike fading into eerie silence.

Lucius narrowed his eyes, studying the human’s injuries. Yeah, his arm was done for. It wasn’t his sword arm, but that hardly mattered. No one could recover from a broken shoulder in the middle of battle—not in seconds, not even in minutes. The damage was severe. It was over.

The vampires halted their assault, forming a loose circle around their prey. Their expressions shifted from bloodthirsty exhilaration to cold calculation. The fight had reached its inevitable conclusion.

“You’ve lost,” Valeria hissed, her voice cutting through the tense air like a blade. “Now, you will tell us everything—what you’ve done with my sister, and how you managed to make the Sanguine Thorn this powerful.” Her words carried an almost venomous edge, her fury barely restrained.

Lucius leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. He, too, wanted to know what the human would say. The battlefield had changed—most of the undead beasts had been driven back beyond the city walls. What remained was little more than the vampires, and even they had begun to retreat. The tide had turned, and this was their moment to seize answers.

Yet something was wrong.

Despite his weakened aura, despite his useless arm, the human did not carry himself like a man who had been defeated. His posture, his grip on his sword—none of it spoke of surrender. He should have been trembling, barely holding himself together. Instead, he was unnervingly still. Was he bluffing? Lucius had seen humans try to feign strength in hopeless situations before. They were predictable. A little pain, a little torment, and they would break. If he refused to talk, they could always carve the truth out of him. The Sanguine Thorn would latch onto his body, dig into his flesh, and force him to speak.

His face remained obscured behind that damned mask, hiding whatever twisted expression he must have been making from the pain. But then… he spoke.

“Pain is an illusion for those who still fear death,” he murmured, his voice eerily calm. “I have long since abandoned both.”

A suffocating force exploded outward.

It was unlike anything Lucius had ever felt. It wasn’t merely killing intent. It was something deeper, something older—an aura of absolute fear and malice, devoid of any restraints.

The vampires stiffened. For the first time, uncertainty flickered in their eyes.

And then the human moved.

He lunged forward, utterly disregarding his shattered arm, as if pain had never existed for him in the first place.