Chapter 74: Dark Instincts

Thalion stepped into his room, the air thick with the lingering tension of his previous exertions. Without hesitation, he began body tempering. The process, once arduous, now felt strangely effortless. He couldn’t deny that the cursed title had its advantages, though it remained a double-edged sword. The power it granted came with an unsettling cost, but for now, it was undeniably useful.

He continued the blood empowerment ritual well into the following day, stopping only when the sun was high. The steady rhythm of mana coursing through his body was invigorating, sharpening his focus. But there were other duties to attend to—training with the guards and replenishing his resources from the alchemist.

His first stop was the alchemists’ quarters. Thalion systematically gathered elixirs from various practitioners, navigating the crowded workshops with a calm sense of purpose. Despite his status as Kael's ally, he knew that his future standing was uncertain. Kael, ever the pragmatist, would shift his support to rising elite warriors if Thalion fell behind. This unspoken reality weighed heavily on him, fueling his determination to prepare for the inevitable. Not that he would judge Kael for it. He had to make the best decision for everyone and when someone can't really level anymore it was natural to give someone else most of the support.

Fortunately, he had managed to stockpile over sixty bottles of diverse elixirs from multiple sources. The glimmering vials were a testament to his foresight; each one was an insurance policy against the lingering effects of his cursed title. Next, he visited Zyra, who handed him vitality elixirs and several dark affinity plants she had cultivated over the past few days. Her expression was warm, her gestures deliberate, and her invitation to a nightly walk left little doubt about her intentions.

But something about her felt off. The cursed title whispered warnings, subtle but insistent, like the faint crackle of static before a storm. It reminded him of the moment just before the ant soldier’s pincers had nearly ended his life. Polite but firm, Thalion declined her offer and made his way to the training hall. This was weird, he thought a bit confused.

At the training hall, Thalion transformed into his eagle form, his feathers shimmering with latent energy. The guards, hesitant at first, soon relished the challenge of striking him with lightning bolts. Each strike that connected only seemed to make him stronger. The synergy between his cursed title and the lightning’s raw power was undeniable; what was once grueling now felt instinctive.

By nightfall, over fifteen guards had expended their strength on him. The bolts that had once seared through his body now flowed harmlessly, empowering him further with every strike. Merging with the lightning was no longer a challenge—it was his nature. By the end of the day, Thalion had completed the third stage of body tempering. Only the wind component remained before he could begin combining the two forces.

Before heading to Kael’s gathering, Thalion returned to his room to gather blood vials. He placed them carefully on the runed circle carved into the floor, observing how the intricate patterns drew mana from the air. The runes worked in a way that fascinated him—a delicate interplay of pulling and pushing, with the central runes acting as a magnetic core. Mana flowed like mist, rising from the circle to coat the blood vials in a shimmering haze.

The process was mesmerizing, but time was pressing. With one last glance at the glowing vials, Thalion stepped away and headed for Kael’s quarters.

When Thalion arrived, the room was already bustling with conversation. Kael, Kai, Sylas, and five others—new faces—greeted him warmly.

"Hello, Thalion," Kael said with a broad smile. "Let me introduce you. This is Kaldrek, a battlemage; Vargan, a berserker; Draven, a light warrior; Lyra, a pyromancer; and Kira, the second illusionist of our base."

"Nice to meet you all," Thalion replied, his gaze lingering on Kael, Kai, and Sylas. Something about them felt... wrong. An invisible tension rippled through the air, faint but undeniable.

Kaldrek extended a hand. "Nice to finally meet you in person," he said warmly.

Thalion nodded but wasted no time on pleasantries. “Let’s get to the important question,” he said, his tone cutting through the idle chatter. “Did you invite Kargul?”

Kael erupted into laughter. "Of course, I did!"

"What’s so special about Kargul?" Kira asked, tilting her head. “Isn’t he the orc with the little girl? He seemed nice enough.”

Sylas smirked. "You’ll see soon enough. I don’t want to spoil the fun."

As the group waited for the others to arrive, the conversation turned to Thalion’s exploits. Draven listened intently as Annie recounted how Thalion had taken down the ant hive, her story omitting key details about his umbral predator transformation.

"It wasn’t that difficult," Thalion interjected with a shrug. “Most of the ants were out hunting, and I managed to get close enough to the queen to end it quickly.” The lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly, but he could feel Zyra’s eyes on him.

"Don’t believe him," Zyra said, her voice playful but firm. “He always downplays his achievements. Trust me, he’s more powerful than he lets on.”

The room fell quiet as the main attraction finally arrived.

The doors swung open, and the trio entered: Evelyn, Kargul, and Vorlok the Worldshatterer. Evelyn stepped in first, her calm demeanor a sharp contrast to the spectacle behind her. Kargul followed, a hulking orc with a mischievous grin, dragging Vorlok—a massive turtle—through the air like a comically oversized balloon. Vorlok flailed his flippers in protest, his grumbles echoing through the room as if lamenting the indignity of his predicament.

The room erupted in laughter, the absurdity of the scene breaking the tension. But Thalion’s mind remained alert. Beneath the humor, the unease he felt around Kael, Kai, and Sylas lingered, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. Something wasn’t right, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that the gathering was more than it seemed.

He leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he watched the room. If his instincts were correct, the danger wasn’t in the distant future—it was already here, lurking behind familiar faces.

“How did the training go?” Sylas asked Kargul, his grin wide and teasing, an air of mischief in his tone.

Before the orc could respond, Evelyn interjected, rolling her eyes with a smirk. “Both very good and absolutely terrible. Vorlok is determined to do the opposite of whatever Kargul tells him—because, apparently, he refused to drink any vodka.”

The room erupted into laughter, save for the newcomers and Kargul, who scowled in indignation.

“I will not feed him things without alcohol—and absolutely no vegetables!” Kargul declared, crossing his arms as though making an unshakable decree. “Anyone who eats vegetables is a loser, and Vorlok is no loser!”

“Wait,” Thalion said, stifling a chuckle, “you think he’s a vegetarian?”

“Yes!” Kargul huffed, glaring at Evelyn. “She said turtles only eat plants.”

“Well, not this turtle,” Thalion countered. A wry grin tugged at his lips as he gestured toward the turtle with a subtle shake of his head. “I’d argue he’s the exact opposite of a plant eater. And wait—you haven’t been feeding him anything?”

“Of course not! I wouldn’t disgrace him with plants,” Kargul replied, clearly offended by the mere suggestion. “He’s been getting beer and vodka. Plenty of it. I would never let Vorlok go hungry.”

Thalion sighed, rubbing his temples. The situation was absurd, but at least it could be fixed. Wordlessly, he retrieved one of the dead vine horses from his spatial ring and placed it on the floor in front of Kargul. “There. Let him eat this.”

Kargul’s face brightened. “Alright, let’s try it. Look, Vorlok! Fine, yummy food,” he said, pointing emphatically at the vine horse while tugging violently at the chain to get the turtle’s attention.

It took a moment, but when Vorlok finally understood, he dove forward with surprising speed, snapping his jaws onto the vine horse. The sound of crunching echoed through the room as the turtle devoured the creature—almost twice the size of an Earth horse—in a matter of seconds.

When he finished, Vorlok’s head whipped around, his wide, alarmed eyes locking onto Kargul as though expecting another forced drink. The turtle tried to flee, flippers paddling at the air in desperation.

The room fell into stunned silence as they stared at the living, meat-grinding monster. Even Kargul seemed momentarily taken aback, his gaze fixed on the empty spot where the vine horse had been.

“Maybe… he was a little hungry,” Kargul finally admitted, scratching his head. He pulled out a giant bear from his spatial storage—this one easily four times the size of the horse—and plopped it down in front of Vorlok.

“Yummy, yummy,” Kargul said, gesturing toward the bear.

This time, Vorlok wasted no time. He dive-bombed at the bear’s belly, shredding it to pieces within seconds. When the last chunk disappeared into the turtle’s maw, he looked up, his flippers twitching slightly, before settling into a calmer demeanor.

“Ha! A hungry one, for sure!” Kargul roared with laughter, patting Vorlok on the head as though the beast were a mere puppy. “Anyone who wants to get strong has to eat a lot!”

Most of the group exchanged uneasy glances, their fear of the turtle evident. It wasn’t just a creature—it was a terrifying force of nature, bound to a leash only Kargul seemed capable of holding.

“From now on, you’ll get rewarded with meat,” Kargul announced proudly, rubbing Vorlok’s shell.

Evelyn, still watching the turtle cautiously, let out a relieved breath. “You know, this might actually work. I didn’t have much hope before, but maybe…”

“On another note,” she said, turning to Annie, “when do you leave for the Water People?”

“Immediately after the System Shop,” Annie replied.

“Can I come too?” Thalion asked.

“Sure,” Annie said with a smile. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to go alone.”

Kael chimed in, mentioning new beasts that needed hunting, and the group shifted into casual conversation. They debated the best food from Lar’s shop, exchanged jokes, and made small talk.

Thalion, however, sat silently. The dark sensation that lingered around Kael, Kai, Sylas, and Zyra gnawed at him like a shadow creeping at the edges of his mind. He couldn’t ignore it, but he also couldn’t discern its purpose. Was the title wrong? It had saved him before, so why did it now point to those closest to him?

When Draven invited him to join their next hunt, Thalion declined, excusing himself for the evening. He had no intention of risking a hunt before the System Shop.

Back in his room, Thalion focused on his studies. The magic circle fascinated him—the runes intricate, their function almost poetic in design. But after hours of study, his mind wandered back to the dark feeling, its persistence leaving him unsettled. He sank into meditation, continuing his blood empowerment in an effort to push the unease away.

The days leading up to the system shop seemed to vanish in a blur. Thalion was completely absorbed in his blood empowerment training, spending countless hours honing his power. Occasionally, he visited the training hall, where arcs of lightning tore into him, testing and tempering Eaglie’s body with each searing strike. The crackle of energy and the faint scent of ozone became familiar companions.

When the day finally arrived, he stepped into the system shop without hesitation.

“Hello, Thalion. I’ve been waiting for you,” the voice of the system greeted him, its tone oddly warm, as if meeting an old friend.

“Nice to meet you too. I’ve been looking forward to this conversation,” Thalion replied. His voice carried both curiosity and the weight of his recent struggles.

“Go ahead,” the voice said, inviting him to speak.

Thalion wasted no time, explaining his frustration with the new title and how it had almost entirely cut off his ability to gain experience.

“Yeah, that won’t improve anytime soon,” the system replied bluntly. “The lifetimes you absorbed from the five ant queens classify you as a supreme being. The system barely rewards experience to someone in your position. It’s like awarding experience for slaying a baby—it’s simply beneath you now. But once you reach E-grade, things should balance out.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. This was the absolute worst outcome Thalion could imagine. He clenched his fists, realizing how much harder surviving the fifth stage would now become.

“Could the Sense skill be wrong?” Thalion asked, his tone tinged with both desperation and suspicion. “Did the ant queens somehow twist it to make me believe my friends were planning to harm me?”

“No,” the voice said, firm and unequivocal. “Such manipulation is impossible.”

“Then why would they give me that title?” Thalion pressed.

The system chuckled, a hint of amusement coloring its reply. “Before I answer, do you have any idea how rare that title is?”

Thalion frowned. “No, not really.”

“The only way to earn such a title is when two beings love each other deeply, and one chooses to sacrifice their life to empower their partner. The feelings must be so strong that even in death, they refuse to leave their loved one alone. Because of this, the title is almost unheard of.”

“As for why they gave it to you?” The system’s tone grew darker, its amusement replaced by cold pragmatism. “They wanted to kill you. By giving you the title, they ensured you’d progress slower than anyone else. They likely hoped the title’s creation would incapacitate you long enough for another ant to finish the job—or that the energy overload would kill you outright. Frankly, it’s a miracle you survived at all, and only because you were in the form of the umbral predator.”

“Wouldn’t it have been smarter to just blow everything up?” Thalion asked, his voice edged with irritation.

“They likely didn’t have the ability. Support-focused beings like them don’t possess destructive options this early in the tutorial,” the voice explained.

The system paused before adding, “In all my existence, I’ve never seen such a powerful Guardian’s Remnant title at F-grade. It’s no wonder you’re gaining almost no experience—the strength of five ant queens together is no joke.”

“So the only way to fix this is to reach E-grade?” Thalion asked, seeking clarity.

“Yes,” the system confirmed. “Though it’s not just about your age. There are other factors, but explaining them wouldn’t change anything for you right now.”

Thalion sighed, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. “Great. Thanks for the help,” he muttered.

Shifting topics, he said, “I have 151,197 credits, and I want to spend it all on a soul cultivation manual. What’s the best one I can afford?”

“A wise choice, little one,” the system said with a laugh. A scroll materialized before him, floating in midair.

Path of the Eternal Spirit

The Path of the Eternal Spirit is a Soul Cultivation manual designed to strengthen and refine the practitioner’s soul. It enhances mental fortitude, spiritual power, and one’s connection to higher realms of existence. Unlike body tempering, which focuses on physical strength, this manual delves into the essence of the soul, unlocking latent abilities and deepening the user’s inner power. [150,000 credits]

“You know, if you’d asked a week later, this would have cost over 16 million credits,” the voice commented.

“Holy shit, why would it be so expensive?” Thalion blurted, his shock evident.

“For most, it would be around four million at the moment,” the system clarified. “But some gods have overdone it, so I can offer it to you at this price.”

“Wait—what do you mean by that?” Thalion asked, his brows furrowing. “I thought the Vampire God wouldn’t remember me.”

“This isn’t about the Vampire God,” the voice replied cryptically. “And don’t ask. I can’t tell you more. Just take this.”

A tiny crystal, no larger than a millimeter, appeared before Thalion.

“This is a spy crystal,” the system explained. “Place it in a room, and you’ll be able to see and hear everything that happens there. With a simple mental command, you can destroy it if anyone tries to trace its origin. If you hadn’t received that title, I’d be allowed to tell you whose room to place it in, but I think you’ll figure it out on your own now that you know the title wasn’t manipulated.”

Thalion took the crystal, turning it over in his fingers before slipping it into his spatial ring. “Okay, thank you,” he said, his voice quieter as he mulled over the implications. He then purchased the Path of the Eternal Spirit scroll.

“Goodbye. See you in a week,” he said, waving a hand as he disappeared.

“Good luck,” the system replied, its voice fading as Thalion vanished into the void.