(Book 2 Complete!) Tales of the Endless Empire [LitRPG Apocalypse]

"Quickly! Corner it!" one of them barked.

That was a situation Thalion couldn't allow. The problem was the increasing proximity—they weren't just fast, they were tethered to something below by mana-infused strands, accelerating their movement. His current form made it impossible to strike behind while fleeing. The moment he turned to attack, one of the others would reach striking range. A single hit could be fatal. His slim, serpentine body and fragile scales offered little protection.

He could, of course, use his bloodline ability to heal himself, but it came with a cost. A drain on his mana pool he couldn't afford this early in the fight. Tsunami Breaker was still an option, but its killing potential was limited due to the shimmering barriers the warriors wore. For now, his best bet was retreat—retreat and burn.

He twisted through the chamber like a living ribbon of flame, pouring power into the ethereal fires. The flames responded, growing brighter, hotter, more violent. The snipers became more erratic, their aim distorted by mirages and warped vision. Even those in pursuit seemed affected. One particularly reckless warrior tried to cut him off, only to veer suddenly off-course and slam headfirst into a ruined pillar.

Thalion was starting to really like these flames.

The synergy was perfect. The flickering blue fire melded seamlessly with his Tidecaller Serpent form and its passive tracking resistance. Gaining distance with a sudden feint, he spun mid-swim and loosed a charged Aqua Lance at the closest pursuer. As expected, the warrior was yanked aside by some unseen force. But Thalion hadn't truly been aiming for him. The lance veered downward—striking true.

Two mages and two healers near the chamber floor never saw it coming. The empowered spell pierced all four in a single, devastating line, leaving them lifeless in its wake. With their deaths, two of the protective mana bubbles shielding the frontline warriors instantly collapsed.

There were still plenty of fishfolk in the chamber. Many hurled their weapons with blind aggression, while six mages near the floor began channeling a high-tier incantation together. Whatever they were planning, Thalion didn't want to see it finished. But the warriors had closed the gap. One came at him in a sweeping arc, aiming to bisect him with a curved blade. Thalion twisted, his sinuous body bending like liquid through the water. Another warrior struck from the opposite side, blade flashing toward his skull.

Time to make space.

Thalion released a pulse of raw power—Tsunami Breaker. The fishfolk likely assumed he couldn't use the skill again so soon, or perhaps that he had run out of mana. They were wrong. His current form had no trouble sustaining his standard arsenal while feeding the bloodline flames. Only his bloodline skill posed a risk to his mana reserves—and even then, only the more taxing aspects like healing or unleashing an enhanced strike.

He'd learned during his battle with the Leviathan that the bloodline skill was far more flexible than he'd believed. He no longer had to manifest it as a weapon. He could shape it freely—perhaps even launch an empowered variant of Tsunami Breaker using its force. It was, in a word, overpowered—and welcome. It let him pour every ounce of spellcasting experience into a single burst of destruction. No other spell allowed such scaling.

Thalion suspected this had something to do with remaining in his flameform while channeling the bloodline. One day, he might even be able to fight inside that form—wielding it like a permanent power-up. But that was a dream for another time. For now, restraint was the key. Overusing the skill could leave him drained and defenseless.

But in this moment, everything was going better than expected.

The shockwave tore through the chamber. Eight fishfolk died instantly, their bodies shredded by the spell's sheer force. Five others were yanked back in time, barely escaping the blast. Thalion didn't waste a heartbeat. He shot upward through the center of the room, trailing a wake of crackling fire. As he ascended, he intensified the flames between himself and the pursuing fishfolk, severing line of sight and drowning the battlefield in ghostly, translucent blue fire.

He realized now he had been too cautious. But to his credit, he hadn't known what the flames would truly do, or if they would even affect the fishfolk. Now, though?

Now they were screaming in confusion—and burning.

During the battle with the Leviathan, Thalion hadn't gotten the impression that the flames had hindered anyone much. Now things were different. Now, he would exploit that advantage to its fullest. Another Aqua Lance blasted forward, a glowing jetstream of water slicing through the chamber. It struck home, tearing into a trio of mages just as they were about to release a charged spell. Their bodies were split apart in a spray of blood and viscera, offering no resistance against the merciless strike. The Aqua Lance was proving perfect for these engagements—its range and speed made it ideal for precision eliminations.

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"No! How dare you!" a female voice shrieked from below.

Thalion glanced down to see a fishwoman cradling the severed head of one of the fallen, her voice trembling with rage. Her aura flared violently, laced with hate, and it spread like a current through the others. One by one, the fishfolk shimmered with similar surges of violent energy. It reminded Thalion of the Leviathan battle—how their auras seemed linked, as if they shared emotions through some mental bond. Perhaps once enraged, they couldn't stop until the enemy was dead. A dangerous trait, certainly—but right now, it worked in Thalion's favor.

More than ten fishfolk launched themselves upward toward him, reckless with rage. The rest continued to hurl projectiles, but the flames obscured their vision so thoroughly that their shots veered wildly into the shadows. Thalion, meanwhile, moved like a wraith between fire and water, dancing through the haze with effortless grace. He picked off his enemies one by one—Aqua Lance, Water Slash, again and again. Now that their shields were gone, it was simply a matter of methodical execution.

Still, a thought burned at the edge of his mind: He needed to upgrade the rest of his skills. The raw power he had squeezed out of Aqua Lance since evolving it was tremendous. If he pushed every one of his spells to legendary rarity—or beyond—his strength would skyrocket. That would be his goal after the special quest. Two weeks would remain, plenty of time to begin evolving and experimenting. He couldn't wait to dive back into testing and refining.

But for now, discipline prevailed. Thalion held himself back, resisting the urge to play with his prey. Instead, he moved with efficiency—always at range, always in motion—methodically thinning the enemy ranks until only one fishfolk remained.

For that one, Thalion took his time.

He closed the gap with a deadly glide, his body wreathed in flickering blue flame. With surgical precision, he severed both of the warrior's hands. The fishman howled in agony, spiraling downward as blood spilled into the water in twisting red clouds. Thalion had also clipped a chunk of the shoulder, but even with the damage, it was difficult to land clean hits on such fast-moving foes. Either way, he had to act quickly—the fishman was bleeding out fast, and reinforcements could already be en route.

He descended alongside the sinking body, his eyes glowing faintly. "How many of you are left?" Thalion asked, his voice calm but edged with menace. "And what traps have you prepared to guard the pillar?"

The fishman's eyes widened in disbelief. He had expected a beast—something mindless and primal. But Thalion's words betrayed intellect, control, purpose. Fear crept in beneath the pain.

"I'll tell you nothing," the fishman spat, blood pouring from his mouth. Hatred twisted his features, but there was something more behind it—recognition.

Thalion's expression remained neutral. With a flick of his tail, another Water Slash ripped through the water, severing one of the fishman's legs. The scream echoed through the chamber, muffled by the thickening sea.

"Pain doesn't frighten me," the fishman growled through gritted teeth. "And you won't have much time anyway. You'll be hunted. My kin shows no mercy. No exceptions."

Well, Thalion thought, that was more information than expected.

Not the kind he had hoped for, but useful nonetheless. And thanks to his title, he knew the fishman spoke the truth. That alone was worth the effort. He considered pressing further—cutting deeper, probing for more—but he doubted there was anything else to gain. And now, he could feel it: movement. Many signatures. Closing in.

With a swift, merciful motion, he severed the fishman's head.

Thalion took a moment to gather the fallen warrior's rings, pearls, and weapons, storing them in his spatial ring. No time for ceremony. Just as he began to ascend—toward the exit and the corridor he had entered from—the water shifted below him. From a darkened passage, more fishfolk poured in.

Weapons gleamed in their hands. Their killing intent was palpable.

They were coming for blood.