Tales of the Endless Empire
Chapter 215: New Skills

Thalion's eyes remained fixed on the first new entry in his status screen. He had accumulated countless skills by now, but this one—this one radiated something different.

Thorns of the Crimson Garden (Ethereal)

You unleash the full might of the Crimson Virethorn, transforming the surrounding area into a living, breathing blood garden. The ground bleeds. Vines slither from every crack. The air thickens like molten plasma. Every step your enemies take becomes a dance on blades.

There was something beautiful in the brevity of high-tier skill descriptions, Thalion mused. Simple, yet drenched in dread. Still, he knew from experience—these rarities were never as straightforward as they seemed. A domain skill... finally. Up until now, he'd lacked one in his human form. Some might argue that Bloodharvest or the fear aura of his armor counted, but in his mind, they were tools—not domains. This? This was different.

He needed a weapon like this—especially with the vampires ahead. If they couldn’t devour the vines or consume the garden itself, then he had a true advantage. As far as he could tell, the vampires hadn't even tried to feed on the Crimson Virethorn. Perhaps they couldn't. Even he couldn’t absorb the sanguine thorns using Bloodharvest. The only thing that could devour its kind was the Virethorn itself.

He found himself wondering how lethal the garden would truly be. Could he use it within the catacombs? Or even here, atop the stone-built tower? The skill’s description mentioned “bleeding ground,” which shouldn't be possible here—unless the garden erupted from him directly, fed by the Virethorn’s blood reservoir. That seemed the most logical interpretation. If so, then it wouldn't rely on the terrain at all. Just his will. And blood.

If the vines could channel his other skills—if they could act as extensions of his magic—it would become an absolute nightmare for anyone to face him in this place. A hidden grin tugged at the corner of his lips. The weak wouldn’t last ten seconds in a blood garden.

And then he noticed the second new skill. A passive one.

Sanguine Ascendance (Celestial)

You have transcended the limitations of mortal flesh. Your body has been reforged by the relentless evolution of the blood-plant symbiosis, turning you into a vessel of living magic. Crimson energy pulses beneath your skin, now dark red and veined with shimmering threads of blackened blood. With each heartbeat, mana is drawn from the air like oxygen, feeding your spells and fortifying your form. Your muscles are denser, your bones strengthened with blood-forged enchantments. Even fatal blows are dulled. Your stamina stretches far beyond the human threshold. Wounds seal themselves as your blood moves with its own will. Cells adapt, growing stronger in the wake of pain. Blood-based skills absorb ambient mana naturally—becoming cheaper, faster, and deadlier. You are a conduit for arcane force. High-tier magic flows through you without rupture. Your aura exerts a subtle pressure—an instinctive fear that coils around the minds of the weak-willed. Where you walk, mana bends and drifts toward you like smoke to a flame. Your skin gleams with veiled power. Your gaze hums with barely-contained destruction.

"Holy shit, what a wall of text," Thalion muttered under his breath as he scrolled through the dense status update. At first glance, it didn’t seem like something from the Virethorn—it felt more like a class-based power. But a celestial passive skill? That was a bit much, even for a mythic class. Maybe it was a fusion of both? Then his gaze caught something else—his race had upgraded in rarity. Now classified under Celestial Rarity.

"Okay… that's insane," he murmured, eyes widening slightly.

His human form was now close to the crippled Eclipsari in rarity. The sheer magnitude of power coursing through his veins felt almost foreign, untamed and limitless. But it was real. Tangible. And the best part? His abilities weren’t a disjointed mess—they were weaving together like threads of fate. His new passive skill and his class title complemented each other flawlessly. His whole being was humming with energy. For the first time, he felt ready—not just for battle, but for war.

The reports about the mummy summoning elementals in the desert intrigued him as well. He had the perfect form to consume elementals, and he couldn’t wait to see what kind of monster the crippled Eclipsari would become after feasting on multiple E-rank elementals.

This next clash with the undead elites would be unlike anything before. Maike better had a plan—there were bound to be more vampires, empowered elites, and this time, they wouldn’t be able to interrupt the blood ritual that fueled the undead. His current strategy? A barrage of lightning bombardments supported by Jim’s formation to force their enemies into open conflict.

But first… the crowd.

Thousands of eyes were on him—anxious, waiting, whispering. If he didn’t say something soon, they’d panic.

“So… took a little longer than expected,” Thalion called out, his voice composed, though a faint smile danced behind his mask. “Now stop standing around gawking. Get ready for battle. We’re about to show them how to tear down a fortress.”

Unintentionally, he poured a surge of mana into his voice. It thundered across the plaza like rolling thunder. A beat passed in silence. Then the crowd stirred, movement cascading through them like ripples in water. Within seconds, the square buzzed with urgency—like an awakened anthill.

He dissolved into mist and reappeared moments later beside Kaldrek and Maike.

“Good to see you both intact,” he said, glancing between them. “By the way, Kaldrek—how the hell did you manage to get hurt so fast? Even with the formation boosting you? If it’s training, just delegate the heavy lifting. No shame in commanding someone else to do it.”

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

He offered a warm smile, but concern flickered behind it. Kaldrek had come far too close to death during the skyship assault—and again now. He was falling behind the others, and in his position, that was more than just dangerous—it was fatal.

“It wasn’t that,” Kaldrek replied, sighing. “The vampire who attacked me was… different. Blessed. Wore black armor. Stronger than me in nearly every way. Honestly, I doubt anyone in the city besides maybe Kargul could’ve held him off for long.”

Interesting. Thalion hadn’t sensed that vampire—though to be fair, he’d been busy dealing with enemies wielding the Sanguine Thorn.

“Good to know. Be careful—the next fight’s going to be worse,” Thalion warned. “And what about Kargul and Eve? Last I heard, they were alive, just before I started devouring all that blood. Did they manage to kill the one channeling the ritual?”

This time, Maike answered, her lips curling into a knowing smile.

“I think you should ask them yourself.” she said with a little chuckle.

Thalion raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the matter. Instead, he turned to another pressing issue.

“What’s the situation with the vampires?” he asked, nodding toward the tent behind them. “They all feel… drained.”

“Oh, that.” Kaldrek looked back over his shoulder, clearly annoyed. “We were interrogating them—or more accurately, the witches were sleeping with them.”

Ah. Of course. The witches.

They probably got all the information they needed, then used the vampires as nourishment—siphoning energy, maybe even feeding on their souls. He wouldn’t allow those creatures to grow stronger. Not now. Not when the blood war loomed on the horizon. If he didn’t need every last resource for the coming siege on the Black Fortress, he’d purge them right now. Once the undead were no longer a direct threat to the people under his protection—once the pillars began to fall—the witches would follow.

But more than anything, he needed a way to detect blessings. To know who had been touched by which god. There had to be a method, a spell, a tool—something.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s prepare for what’s next. I’ll handle the vampires. How long until everyone is assembled and ready to make plans for the next assault?”

Truth be told, if it were up to him, he’d fly to the fortress right now and begin carving his way through. But he knew better. It was smarter to wait—give the others time. Time to prepare for the storm he was about to unleash.

It was also crucial that both the witches and Jim’s forces were assigned to the frontline. There was no room left for bystanders.

“A few hours at the least,” Kaldrek replied, his voice edged with tension. “Most were already waiting for you to come out of that flower… And one more thing—you might want to know we’ve released the council. We're now working alongside a few other elite fighters.”

Thalion tilted his head slightly, trying to understand why Kaldrek sounded so worried. The council had outlived its usefulness. It was originally formed to ensure resources went to those who supported the people within the base—but their recent decisions had left much to be desired. In his mind, their time was over. Besides, the base wouldn’t even exist in a few weeks—not once the tutorial ended. The world was shifting, and Thalion intended to lead that change.

Now was the time to show the vampires what their new home would look like.

As he moved through the fortress, Thalion’s thoughts drifted to the pillar—the one he’d hidden away, charging in secret. He’d had some time to reflect, and a new idea had begun to form about how to use it… but that would have to wait. The pillar wasn’t ready yet.

The witches, however, were less than thrilled about losing what they considered a "free feeding ground." It took everything in Thalion not to destroy them on the spot. Their entire path—their ideology—repulsed him. He despised everything they stood for.

One by one, he dragged the vampires down into his hidden chamber, deep beneath the tower. There, he forced each one into the waiting arms of the pillar. The process was grueling. Every time, he had to close the tower gate, unlock the hidden passage, haul the next vampire in, and repeat it all over again. It was tedious work, but necessary.

The moment each vampire touched the pillar, the effect was immediate. The atmosphere shifted. A quiet despair settled in like thick fog, and the once-defiant bloodsuckers began to unravel. When Thalion activated his lightning, turning his gaze to the bound victims, screams echoed through the underground chamber—raw, desperate, and very satisfying.

The pillar needed to reach its peak before the tutorial ended. That was the goal.

To accelerate the process, Thalion inserted several high-tier mana crystals into the structure. He could already feel the shift—affinities realigning, energy coalescing. Over thirty vampires had been imprisoned, and the pillar was beginning to hum with power once more. Soon, it would be fully restored to its original form.

Thirty minutes passed in near silence, broken only by occasional cries of pain or the crackle of energy. Then, a notification reached him. The others were ready.

Thalion gave the remaining vampires one final shock—enough to leave a mark—before turning on his heel and ascending back to the surface. It was time to strategize. Time to prepare for the next battle.

And after that? Execution.

One thought nagged at him as he moved: the system shop would reopen tomorrow. That meant more escape tokens—more chances for the vampires to flee again. He hated that. But there was no avoiding it. This was the only stage available, and when the battlefield shifted to the catacombs, he would feast to his heart's content.