Tales of the Endless Empire
Chapter 226: Bringing the assault to a standstill for a full day

Thalion decided to wait until Maike, Kaldrek, and the army had returned before making any decisions. He intended to use the opportunity to brief them about Kael and the other threats looming on the horizon. More importantly, they needed a coherent strategy for approaching the battle within the catacombs—a challenge he found himself increasingly uncertain about. Initially, after upgrading the Crimson Virethorn, he had been eager to plunge into the catacombs' depths.

After being gifted a bloodline and divine skill, he realized something much more dangerous was afoot. Some god must have broken the rules to tip the scales so drastically in his favor. Thalion was powerful, yes, but could he truly best a group of elves if they were all as strong as the one currently sealed within the black pillar? He couldn't say with certainty, and the thought unsettled him.

He knew he could not afford reckless risks. Destroying the resurrection pillars remained a priority, but too many now sought his downfall. Steven, Thorwald, Kael, Sylas, Kai, and perhaps even the Water Princess—the enemies were gathering. The attack on the catacombs would be a chaos he could not allow to consume him. He needed answers: who among them was dangerous enough to warrant the system granting him such power? If he used the next three days carefully—extracting the elf’s bloodline skill and refining his abilities—he should still have ample time to complete the mission.

The army would take at least another hour to return. Until then, Thalion focused on preparing for the delicate task ahead. Withdrawing his aura until not even a spark of power leaked from him, he entered the solemn chamber housing the black pillar. The heavy air thrummed with restrained energy as he sifted through the complex knowledge on bloodline theft imprinted in his mind. The method was brutal: carve a fragment of his soul, forge it into a tether, and invade the elf’s body to wrench free the bloodline skill. It sounded almost simple when phrased that way, but the ritual itself was anything but. Just drawing the intricate soul circle alone would be a monumental task. Thalion steeled himself, understanding that every power he could claim would be crucial in the battles ahead. With grim determination, he summoned the first strokes of mana, sketching luminous lines across the ground.

<--

"What do you mean the elves say we have to delay the attack?" Sylas exclaimed, his voice taut with irritation. The tension in the air was palpable. They had spent days preparing for this assault, and now, poised just beyond the desert’s edge, they were being told to wait. The attack teams crouched hidden among the tall tundra grass, the desert's shimmering sands starting not far ahead. Beyond those burning dunes, the catacomb loomed unseen, a dark promise buried beneath the sands. They couldn't advance any closer without alerting the undead forces. The plan had been to use fast scouting vessels, swooping over the sands before the undead could muster their defenses. Walking across the desert was out of the question; monstrous sand elementals roamed there, eager to tear intruders apart.

"They discovered another human camp," Kael replied calmly, though a hard edge lined his voice. "They want to coordinate a strike on all four catacombs simultaneously. It would split the undead’s defenses and ease the pressure on our front." He didn’t like the delay any more than Sylas, but rushing now would only lead to slaughter. Kael had grown exponentially stronger over the past weeks—powerful enough to clash with the mightiest of vampires—but tactical folly was still a death sentence.

His ambitions demanded caution. Every soul he could bring out of the tutorial under his banner would elevate his status among the Patrons' Chosen. For Kael, every life mattered—not for sentimental reasons, but for political gain. Long ago, he had abandoned the naive ideals of Earth: unity, altruism, selflessness. What childish fantasies they were. His Patron had taught him the truth: power was everything.

Betraying Thalion had been Kael’s first true step toward greatness. Now, Thalion represented something more: the key to his ascension. The system’s upheaval—its chaotic teleportation of all players from the early stages into the higher tiers—meant Thalion was here, somewhere, close enough to find. The system had even scattered the players near the catacombs to ensure their participation in the special quest. Kael's eyes narrowed, a slow smile curling his lips. He would find Thalion. And when he did, no force in this world or the next would stand between him and his destiny.

It was unwise for most to venture out alone without joining an established base. These bastions of safety offered protection from the increasingly dangerous beasts that roamed the wastelands. Fleeing from the special quest was the gravest mistake one could make. The farther one strayed from the desert, the stronger the monsters became. The reason for this was simple: the powerful survivors had gathered near the special quest site, slaying most of the local beasts, while the more intelligent creatures fled to the outer regions. The fact that so many were forcefully teleported here played neatly into Kael’s hands—more citizens meant more weekly credits for him.

"What do you mean they found another human camp?" Sylas huffed, visibly annoyed. "We only know about that Logan fellow, and I don’t like him one bit, even if he’s incredibly strong. Who else could've arrived so close to the special quest that the elves would suddenly change their plans? I think they’re just playing power games with us."

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Over the past weeks, Sylas had grown immensely. Kael wasn't even sure anymore if he could beat him in a duel. Yet with Sylas’s strength came an unbearable arrogance that grated on everyone’s nerves. Thankfully, Kai had remained the same steadfast presence he had always been—the only one among them who hadn’t changed or abandoned their cause. Well, there was Jakob too, but he had long since fallen behind. His Patron had made it clear: he should associate only with the strong. Weaklings were a waste of time. Kael had been chosen for greatness, for immortality, and he would achieve it no matter the cost.

"I don’t know," Kael replied, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. "The elves wouldn’t tell me anything. I sent scouts to find this human camp—maybe they'll report back before the assault begins. If it's close enough, I intend to assimilate them." Greed gleamed in his eyes as he watched a sand elemental devour one of the massive reptiles hidden beneath the dunes.

"Yes, we should definitely try something like that," Sylas agreed, flashing a sharp grin. "Maybe send me over as an ambassador—or a cleanup crew. If this newcomer just got teleported here, he might still be a rookie. Easy pickings."

Kai, meanwhile, said nothing. His gaze remained fixed on the tall grass dancing with the whispering desert winds, his expression unreadable.

<--

Logan scratched his head, perched atop the rooftop of his home, surveying the bustling city sprawling beneath him. They had prepared for an influx of newcomers, but even so, the sudden flood of arrivals overwhelmed their modest preparations. Since the elves decided to delay the assault in hopes that the new human base would join them, Logan had thrown himself into recruiting as many survivors as he could.

Only a few hours after the system shop event, all survivors from the early stages had been teleported into the Fifth Stage. It was a blessing in many ways: more fighters for the battles ahead, and more weekly credits earned. However, Logan knew most would not survive the coming struggle.

The tutorial would end in just four weeks—not nearly enough time for the new recruits to become truly useful, nor enough for him to purchase the truly rare and powerful items he coveted. These days, he mostly bought rare crafting materials. His equipment was already capped at Legendary, the highest tier available from the system shop, and his body-tempering had progressed steadily.

His Patron had advised him to form an elite team, and although Logan wasn't particularly afraid of the vampires, he saw the wisdom in the suggestion. Finding truly elite candidates among the sea of new recruits, however, proved frustrating. The strongest beneath him were competent—but none truly stood out, except for one: a young woman named Annie. She was an extraordinarily talented water mage, capable of pulling water from the very air.

Had she not been a water mage, he might have worried she could threaten his position. As it was, her element could do shit about his lightning abilities. Still, the way the others in the settlement adored her irked him deeply. What made her so special? Why did they look up to her so readily? It mattered little. In the end, she lacked the ruthlessness necessary to seize true power. In this world, strength without ambition was meaningless. He would claim her for his elite team whether she agreed or not. Together, they might even combine their talents to unleash devastating attacks against the vampires.

For a tank, Logan had chosen a cold, calculating light warrior armed with a lance. He knew the man would betray him if the opportunity arose, but it hardly mattered. Logan viewed him as little more than a spell-shield, a sacrificial pawn in the catacomb battles to come. With those two, he was relatively satisfied—but he needed at least four members, and the pickings were slim.

The only other candidate was an elderly fire mage, a man blessed by a relatively powerful god. Logan had fought alongside him once. Though strong, the old man was weaker than Annie, and combining fire and water mages in a team seemed like a recipe for disaster.

No, the old man would have to lead his own squad, despite having applied repeatedly to join Logan’s elite circle. There was something unsettling about him—an aura of hidden strength, veiled behind a kindly facade. Logan didn’t trust it. No one reached this level of power simply by helping others. He would have to keep a close eye on that one.

Logan's thoughts drifted to another intriguing figure: Thalion. Recently, he had managed to establish contact with the other human base and learned of its enigmatic leader. Unlike Logan, Thalion seemed almost benevolent, granting rewards and better materials to those who supported the weaker members of his camp. His base boasted an unusually high percentage of powerful warriors and blessed individuals, far exceeding Logan’s fledgling settlement. Curiously, the blessed in Thalion’s city appeared desperate to unseat him.

An opportunity, perhaps.

The catacombs, according to the system, were connected. An arrangement could be made. The blessed at the other base weren't strong enough to challenge Logan directly. He could easily seize control, should the chance arise. He leaned back, watching the sun set in a blaze of red and gold across the shifting dunes. If his sources were correct, everyone was waiting on Thalion's next move. What could possibly be so important that the guy would hesitate for an entire day?