Hail to the passive skill, Thalion thought with a crooked grin as he watched the puzzled expressions of the mages across the battlefield. His eyes finally landed on Sylas, who summoned a fireball, inspected its unusual color, extinguished it, then conjured it again only to stare in disbelief at the glowing orb in his hand. The elves had gone so far as to forbid the use of fire magic entirely, believing it to be the work of the vampiress manipulating the fla. It was amusing how wrong they were. Telling them the truth might have been fun, but that was clearly out of the question.
The undead’s defense was laughably weak. They failed to injure even one of Thalion’s fighters or the elven warriors. Kael, however, lost five soldiers, which drew every vampire archer on the wall to focus their aim on his camp. Thalion wasn’t interested in letting more people die needlessly. He surged forward, using a telekinetic dash. Only two vampires managed to spot him, but their blood spells fizzled out as Thalion simply took control of the blood and fed it into the Crimson Virethorn.
The blade drank in the power like a starving beast. With a silent breath, he channeled the energy into the blood-templar’s sword and drove it into a visible fracture in the red barrier. A loud, cracking noise echoed across the field as the shield splintered around the sword’s edge. Thalion pressed forward and forced his shoulder into the crack, slipping inside just before the shield sealed shut behind him. He didn’t care. The vampiress wasn’t here. This base wasn’t ant to stop them. It was a stalling tactic.
With a fluid leap, he scaled the wall and descended upon the startled vampires. Five fell to a single sweep of his glowing red slash. The others panicked and launched their attacks, but their blood magic failed to land. Thalion dodged with ease or bent the spells away from him. No one here carried a weapon like the bloodbow he had claid from a powerful vampire back in the fourth stage. He didn’t bother pressing the attack. He remained on the wall, spinning his sword in sweeping arcs and ducking past attacks rather than controlling them.
He wasn’t here to kill. He wanted to distract and show off. This was a performance, one staged for Kael’s camp watching from outside. As long as he held the vampires’ attention, the others could tear down the barrier faster. Soon, only a few enemies still dared fire at the archers and mages behind him. Under the increasing pressure, the shield collapsed completely in a shower of crimson sparks.
The base was quickly overrun. Thalion continued to spar with the vampires, this ti drawing out the fight and letting them live longer than he needed to. He hoped his restrained strength made him appear weaker, like an inviting target for Kael or the female elf. At the mont, he used no more than twenty percent of his full power, but it was still more than enough to hold the wall alone. When the barrier fell, the living sward into the base. Most of the undead didn’t even resist. They ran straight for the entrance of the catacombs below.
The battle above was over within minutes. With the base cleared, each faction took up positions, wary and watchful of one another. The elves stationed themselves on one side, Kael’s group in the center, and Thalion’s team on the far end with Kargul, Evelyn, Jack, and Josh. Everyone was streaked with undead blood, except for Thalion. His armor remained spotless, the Crimson Virethorn absorbing every drop of blood that touched the ground around him.
He made a note to inscribe the red runes from the bloodbow onto his armor. It would amplify his blood-based abilities even more. The undead base itself was simple in structure, just two concentric walls surrounding a gate with three towers. In the center stood ruined buildings, most of which had been obliterated by friendly fire during the siege. What concerned Thalion most wasn’t what they had fought. It was how little resistance there had been.
Why had the undead stationed so few defenders? Why not regroup and retreat as one? That strategy would have prolonged the battle and caused more casualties. The only logical conclusion was that whatever they were protecting down below was far more important than anything above ground. And judging by the hesitation now hanging over the camp, the other factions had reached the sa conclusion.
The mouth of the catacomb yawned in the center of the courtyard. From the entrance, they could see the main corridor stretch out before splitting into five separate tunnels about fifty ters in. Slowly, the elite teams ford. Thalion stood with Jack, Josh, Kargul, and Evelyn. Vorlok remained at the surface. The sky turtle was powerful, but its size made underground combat nearly impossible.
Kael’s group was the largest. Alongside Sylas and Kai were ten more fighters Thalion had never seen before. One absence surprised him. Jakob was missing. Did Kael no longer trust him? The broad-shouldered elf and the female elf led the first elven team, a balanced mix of warriors and spellcasters.
Thalion noticed one last key difference. The other groups brought multiple healers with them. His own group would rely only on Evelyn. The rest of the healers were staying behind. That fact said more than anyone was willing to admit. What lay beneath was more than dangerous.
With a single nod, everyone began their descent into the catacombs. The first section of the path forced all groups to travel together, and Thalion’s party hugged the far left wall. The elves walked in formation along the right side, while Kael and his elite warriors claid the center with silent confidence. Behind them, more teams followed at asured intervals. These secondary groups had a clear purpose — to maintain the connection between teams and offer reinforcents if the frontlines faced heavy resistance.
As the path gradually split into multiple corridors, the three factions parted ways. Thalion turned left, the elves drifted to the right, and Kael continued through the central tunnel. Two of the remaining corridors stayed untouched for now, to be explored only if another path ended in failure. Everything so far had gone as planned. Thalion advanced with brisk steps, the weight of urgency pressing on him. Ti was slipping away, and the threat of Ankhet’s resurrection lood closer with every heartbeat.
It wasn’t long before the first major chamber ca into view. The corridor remained wide — more than fifty ters across — and while that allowed a small team to hold off an assault, the atmosphere shifted as they neared the next space. Sothing felt wrong. From Thalion’s current angle, he saw no floor in the chamber ahead. A sense of unease prickled at the edge of his mind. With every step closer to the towering gate-like entrance, the sensation grew sharper. Thalion lifted his hand, signaling the others to halt.
“Ah, damn. The tokens don’t work down here,” Evelyn muttered behind him. She had likely tried to contact Maike or one of the scouts trailing them, but Thalion paid it little mind as he stepped forward alone.
His senses stretched outward as he used his title and blood affinity. He moved carefully, almost reverently, as if the darkness might shatter underfoot. The presence of danger was thick, clinging to the air like unseen smoke. It took far longer than he liked, but eventually he reached the threshold and peered into the vast chamber beyond.
What he saw left him montarily speechless. Just past the gate, the ground fell away completely. A drop of over sixty ters opened beneath him, ending in the fractured remains of multiple floors. The stone was shattered, and gaping holes riddled the structure from top to bottom. At the very base, hundreds of ters below, a still sheet of dark water reflected the flickering torchlight behind him.
Saltwater.
So of the lower levels were partially subrged or obscured by mist and rubble. Thalion could not see the bottom clearly, but the ssage was clear enough. Moving deeper through this space would be a difficult, perhaps dangerous task.
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“And? What do you see? Anything to smash?” Kargul’s voice echoed from the tunnel behind.
“Let check first. From the looks of it, we may have to turn back,” Thalion replied, still scanning for the source of his unease. Sothing dangerous was here, watching. The feeling was too precise to be wrong. He couldn’t spot the source from above, so he dropped down to the next fractured level, landing softly on a flat slab of stone.
The mont his feet touched down, a sudden spike in his instincts scread at him. He twisted sideways in an instant, narrowly avoiding a sharp jet of water that exploded against the wall behind him. He hit the ground in a roll, ca up on one knee, and the Sword of the Blooded Templar flashed into his hand.
Without hesitation, he descended further, scanning the broken stone and watery depths below. The attacker had to be one level beneath him. Judging from the angle of the strike and the pulsing intent he now felt.
His eyes finally caught movent — sothing swift and sinuous. As the figure ca into view, Thalion’s confusion deepened.
It was humanoid, but clearly not of the surface world.
Its skin was a deep, scaled blue, slick and iridescent like that of a fish. Long strands of dark green hair flowed down its back, and several thick, twitching tentacles sprouted from its shoulders. Its fingers ended in small claws, webbed between each digit. Gills pulsed visibly along its neck, and its golden, reptilian eyes blinked sideways.
Voryxian Deepborn Level 90
Level ninety. Impressive, but not entirely unexpected among those chosen to defend the pillars. Still, the thought was unfair. The stoneborn had received no environntal advantage in their encounter, yet these aquatic beings had an entire battlefield rigged in their favor.
The Deepborn’s gaze t Thalion’s, and its thin lips curled into a grin that exposed rows of sharp, crimson-stained teeth. The resemblance to a shark was uncanny.
“Whoa, whoa, wait. I’m on your side. Look,” Thalion said quickly, raising one hand. The creature conjured another water spear in its grip, its eyes narrowing.
Thinking fast, Thalion summoned a blood orb in his free hand. He hoped the fishman might mistake him for one of the vampires. To add weight to the illusion, he released a pulse of killing intent from the Crimson Virethorn. The air thickened around him as the plant responded.
Now he just had to wait and see whether deception or violence would win the day.
The fishman had looked so smug and full of himself that Thalion couldn’t resist. He had dealt with enough arrogant enemies to know that their overconfidence usually masked fragile egos and weaker wills. They broke easily under pressure. And if this one held any useful information, it could give Thalion the edge they needed in this strange, shifting battle below the catacombs.
"What are you, stupid? Why are you coming this way? Haven’t we told you idiotic undead that this is our terri—"
The creature’s voice cut off with a sharp scream. Thalion had already fired a crimson thorn into the fishman's leg. It embedded itself instantly and began to grow, writhing and burrowing through muscle and bone like a living parasite. From this close, there was no escaping it. The only way out would have been to amputate the leg—but that chance had passed. The vine had already spread too far.
Thalion had no intention of killing him yet. Judging by the lack of reinforcents, the Deepborn had likely been stationed here alone, ant only to watch the entrance and warn others farther down. Perhaps the undead believed no one would dare dive this deep. Whatever the reason, it was a mistake Thalion was eager to exploit. The fishman would talk, and Thalion would learn everything he could.
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