Chapter 225: Shopping time

"What! You seriously want to pick one of

those

bloodlines? One of the trash-tier ones?" The voice sounded genuinely baffled, a note of incredulous amusement threading through its tone. "Alright, sure. One divine skill and one of those questionable bloodlines—it should be fine."

"I'll take the Ashblood Lineage... and Flamebound Essence," Thalion said, his voice calm and resolute. He had thought long and hard about it, weighing every risk, every reward. Time was running short, but in his mind, this was the clearest path forward. The passive skill would nullify any harmful side effects from the bloodline, and the bloodline itself—well, it would do more than just light things on fire. It would ignite the very air around him. More importantly, it would set his

blood

ablaze.

His blood-based skills would now burn when used, their destructive force amplified by an affinity-infused flame. Not just any fire—one aligned with his unique affinity. He didn’t yet understand the full mechanics of it, but it pulsed with promise. This combination wouldn’t chain him to a single form. The fire would adapt—just as he always had.

Of course, there were risks. But he trusted in the passive skill’s protection, and in the resilience of his soul. He would have to master how to ignite the ambient mana around him quickly—and just as swiftly learn how to suppress it. Yet even that challenge seemed small in the face of what the bloodline hinted at: a potential rebirth, rising from his own ashes. It was a seed with the potential to grow into something terrifying.

"Ah, right," the voice said, contemplative now. "With that passive skill, it could even work underwater. Perfect for the Tidecaller Serpent."

A pause. Then the voice added, "Alright, here we go. This should handle both the bloodline and the skill together."

A searing heat burst through Thalion’s chest like a sun blooming behind his ribs. He staggered, breath stolen as flames spread through his limbs—pure essence, raw and untamed. Just as the heat began to fade, another explosion rocked him—this time in his mind. Knowledge surged in like a crashing wave. Instructions, memories not his own, the method for binding a bloodline to his soul. There had been no scroll, no crystal, no ritual—but in this strange place beyond the veil of normal reality, none of that was necessary.

"Wait... did you give me the skill after the bloodline?" Thalion muttered, dropping to his knees, his voice thick and dazed. "And do I still have any credits?"

"Yep, bloodline came first. Congrats, by the way—nobody’s ever claimed that one before," the voice said, pride mixing with mischief. "And... yeah, I took all your credits. Didn’t bother with the math, just decided it was enough. Anyway, good luck out there. You’ll need it. The next phase has already begun."

Before Thalion could reply, the world around him shattered like glass.

In the blink of an eye, he was back—standing in the ancient, circular chamber before the black pillar. The air here felt colder than before, thick with old magic and unspoken intent. His legs trembled, still sluggish beneath him, and his head reeled from the torrent of new knowledge.

Too much had happened, too fast. He needed a moment to breathe. To think.

Then, the system notification appeared, followed by a message from Maike:

We're on our way to the Black Fortress.

Another pinged from Josh:

A group of elves is gathering at the front gate.

It was overwhelming.

Thalion clenched his fists and forced himself to focus. First, he opened the quest log. The special mission had gone live.

Special Quest: 1

The catacombs have opened

In each catacomb, a resurrection pillar must be destroyed

Each pillar destroyed will weaken Ankhet Sekhmara

Should even one pillar remain, he will rise again

Resurrected within his underground palace

You have seven days to destroy all pillars

Special Quest: 2

Most of Ankhet’s palace remains inaccessible

In one week, the palace will rise to the surface, granting full access

Seven days after it emerges, a unique treasure will manifest in the throne room

Four weeks from now, the tutorial will end

Good luck, survivors

“Damn,” Thalion muttered under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “Couldn’t the system wait

one more week

until I had figured out what all this new power even

does

?”

There was no time to breathe, no time to reflect. The next seven days were already promising chaos. The revelation that the catacombs were all connected was disturbing enough. Add to that the palace, which would soon rise from the depths, and Thalion found himself standing on the edge of a storm. And now—now he carried a divine passive skill and a volatile new bloodline. The system hadn’t gifted him those out of kindness. No, it was trying to balance the scales. Which could only mean one thing: monsters—real ones—were roaming out there. Worse, they were likely hunting

him

. The way the voice had spoken made that all too clear.

First, he needed time. Time to understand the changes coursing through his body. And he wasn’t about to risk meeting the elves while still unsure how not to accidentally set everything ablaze. Someone else could handle that. Thalion sent a quick message to Lucan, still stationed at the base, asking him to approach the elves in his place. Then he reached out to Maike and Kaldrek, already on the way to the Black Fortress in their formidable skyships.

“Hey, Maike. Plans have changed. Turn everyone around—I’ll need more time before I can join the battle.”

“What?” came the immediate, sharp reply. “Do you know how long it took to organize all this?”

A heartbeat later, her tone softened as a second message followed. “Alright, we’re turning back. But what happened? Why can’t you fight now? Is it serious?”

“It’s not bad. Actually, it’s a good thing. But I need time to get a handle on it. Also, we need to tread carefully. I had a... chat with the voice. Something nasty is out there. Make sure Kaldrek hangs back—I’m not convinced he’s as immortal as he pretends to be.”

Her confirmation came swiftly, and with that, Thalion cut the connection. Alone again, he exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. He didn’t feel hot. Nothing around him was smoldering. In truth, he had no idea what the bloodline actually

did

—and that ignorance was dangerous. First things first: he had to trigger it. Understand it.

Feel

it.

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He shifted to a nearby chamber—a wide, reinforced space specifically built to withstand explosive training. Over fifty meters across and twenty meters high, its smooth stone walls were scorched from former skill tests. As soon as he conjured a flame in his palm, it flickered to life in an unnatural hue—deep crimson, the color of his essence blood.

It wasn’t the only change. The flame didn’t fade after a minute, even when he stopped channeling mana into it. It burned stubbornly, steadily—hotter than anything he’d summoned before. He was still fueling it subconsciously, but his mana regeneration made it impossible to track how much. That didn’t matter.

What mattered was the connection.

He

felt

the flame—not just in his hand, but in his very blood. No... even more intimately than that. The link was sharper, deeper. He could sense the flame like blood with his bloodsense, as though it was an extension of his soul. His eyes widened.

What the hell had he become?

The fireball pulsed in his hand, radiating a malicious, hungry energy. Crimson light painted the chamber in ghostly hues, shadows dancing like specters along the walls. It was beautiful and terrible all at once. Slowly, Thalion molded the flame, stretching it into a spear. It obeyed him without hesitation—fluid, eager.

He launched it at the stone floor.

The impact rocked the chamber. A thunderclap echoed off the walls as fire exploded outward. Embers scattered across the floor, and in seconds, they ignited into crimson flames. With every heartbeat, the inferno grew more intense, licking at the air with sinister intent. The temperature surged, warping the air with heat. Thalion took a step back, heart pounding.

To Thalion, the fire felt like a warm breeze on his skin—pleasant, almost comforting. Yet beneath those dancing flames, solid stone hissed and melted into glowing puddles. The floor itself was surrendering to the heat, warping and bubbling under a power he barely understood. Despite the chaos, he had never felt more alive. His body was lighter, faster, stronger. He dashed across the chamber with ease, each stride smoother than the last. His stats hadn’t changed, but the difference was undeniable. Maybe it was a bug in the system, but it was one he’d gladly exploit.

With a flicker of will, he called the flames back. One heartbeat they roared, the next they were gone—snuffed out as if they had never existed. Silence fell over the scorched chamber, the lingering scent of molten stone and smoke hanging thick in the air. Now came the real test. The bloodline’s description hinted at two unique effects: his blood would ignite when exposed, and he could set ambient mana aflame. The first was easy to check. The second... still a mystery.

He summoned a sphere of blood from the Crimson Virethorn’s internal reservoir. The instant it appeared, it burst into crimson fire, the same deep red hue as before. It writhed in the air, beautiful and terrible. Mana burned away within it, but unlike normal flames, these required no constant focus—only his divine passive skill, which allowed him to shape and control fire at will. That connection proved vital. Through it, he could stabilize the burning blood, pour more energy into it, reinforce it. And unlike before, he could do so safely.

This system shop had brought him more than one upgrade. The new divine skill granted him a finer degree of mastery—layering power on top of power. It consumed more mana, yes, but his pool was vast and his recovery swift. Every test so far had gone better than expected. He could create the fire, command it, extinguish it instantly if needed. The last remaining challenge was the most unpredictable: setting environmental mana on fire. That, and checking how well his other forms had adapted to the changes.

Before he could attempt the next phase, a message blinked into existence.

"Uh, Thalion? The elf doesn’t want to talk to me. He insists on speaking with you. Something about forming an alliance and a coordinated strike against the undead," Lucan reported.

Thalion narrowed his eyes.

Yeah, right.

That stank of manipulation. He’d killed one of their own and now they wanted to play nice? Since when did the elves care about the undead? Until now, they'd kept their distance, aloof and unconcerned. Something didn’t add up.

"Tell him I’m unavailable. If he wants to talk, he can talk to you," Thalion sent back, irritation threading through his words. The elves were becoming a problem, but he trusted Lucan to handle them—for now.

Refocusing, Thalion turned back to his training. He concentrated on the mana swirling through the air. He tried again and again to ignite it using his blood as a catalyst. It worked... but not how he wanted. The flames appeared erratically, springing to life at random points around him. Worse, he couldn’t direct where they lit. Whenever it happened, he was forced to smother the fires before they spread. The power was there—raw and potent—but wild. Unpredictable. He couldn’t afford to lose focus mid-battle and accidentally torch the wrong area.

Still, progress was progress.

As he tested his aura’s interaction with the mana, cycling between skills and flares of pressure, another message arrived from Lucan.

"Alright, I spoke with the elf. Here’s the situation: the elves have allied with two human bases. Together, they want to launch a coordinated assault on all four catacombs at once. The Black Fortress is the only one with teleportation circles and they will have a hard time to sent the reinforcements to the right location. At least, that’s their plan. Do you want me to agree to this or tell them we need time to discuss it?"

Lucan’s tone carried tension, and it wasn’t lost on Thalion. Something was off. One of the bases had to be Kael’s, and he didn’t trust that man—or the elves—as far as he could throw them. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad moment to slow things down. Test his powers a little more. Maybe even rip that bloodline skill straight from the elf before any battle plans were made.

One thing was certain: the system hadn’t given him such potent upgrades out of generosity.

Something monstrous was coming.