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 sothing much more dangerous was afoot. So 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 consu 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 ti 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 thrumd with restrained energy as he sifted through the complex knowledge on bloodline theft imprinted in his mind. The thod was brutal: carve a fragnt 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 monuntal 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.
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