Tales of the Endless Empire

Chapter 371: Kaelir vs Thalion (4)

The elves were far too slow to react to Thalion’s and the Sanguis Impera’s onslaught. Still, many managed to evade just enough so that the thorns only grazed them instead of piercing clean through. In more than fifteen of them, Thalion could already feel the curse taking hold and growing stronger. It helped greatly that the Sanguis Impera understood his intentions and didn’t immediately finish them off with its vines. Instead, it targeted the remaining unscathed elves while Thalion directed his bloodline flames in wide arcs at those already infected by his curse.He didn’t want to harm them too severely—the flames were perfect for searing the curse deeper into their bodies without destroying vital organs. The strategy worked flawlessly. Over half of the elves writhed on the ground, screaming in agony as the corruption tore through their veins.

A sudden surge of danger made Thalion dodge to the side just in time to avoid a massive arrow that buried itself into the ground where he had stood moments before. The projectile exploded a heartbeat later, throwing him back and giving the surviving elves a precious moment to regroup.

“What is this poison?!” one of the archers screamed, clutching his right arm, his bow already discarded. The curse was slowly crawling up his flesh toward his heart—its usual target.

“It’s a powerful curse! Protect the healers at all costs!” Kaelir commanded from above, his voice echoing with mana.

The chosen unleashed relentless barrages of fiery arrows and roaring streams of flame, trying to drive Thalion back and protect his subordinates. The air howled under the heat, and Thalion had to use Telekinetic Dash repeatedly to avoid being incinerated. His control over the skill was still rough, but that hardly mattered—he just needed to move fast enough to dodge the flames.

Kaelir refused to relent, pursuing him with his blazing jets of fire. It was interesting, though, that even the chosen avoided getting too close. He clearly had options for close combat—so why hold back? Thalion wasn’t complaining; the distance gave him the opportunity to eliminate the two healers while the Sanguis Impera continued infecting more elves, launching volleys of thorns and releasing clouds of crimson mist that slithered toward the panicked soldiers.

Kaelir didn’t even notice when Thalion dispatched the healers. Instead of using a skill, Thalion had employed his sword. The Blade of the Blooded Templar, which had been hovering high above the battlefield, shot downward and impaled one healer through the skull—a clean execution that went completely unnoticed. The elf she had been treating started screaming anew as the curse spread through his flesh once more.

Thalion guided the blade upward, then sent it sweeping toward the second healer, decapitating him in one swift motion.

Then, suddenly, Kaelir was right in front of him. Both his staves were gone—likely stored inside his amulet—and his body was wreathed in pure fire. He lunged forward, striking with a flaming fist. The attack came so fast that even Thalion’s danger sense barely gave him time to react. He managed to conjure a mana barrier in front of him while activating Telekinetic Dash to the side, but the barrier shattered instantly, and Kaelir’s blow smashed into his chest.

It wasn’t just the initial impact—there was a fiery afterimage that struck again a split-second later, doubling the force. Thalion was launched backward, his armor cracking in several places along with a few ribs. That was concerning, considering his armor’s rarity and the fact that it was fully empowered. Kaelir had managed to damage it with a single punch. Not good.

But Thalion wasn’t done yet. He twisted midair like a cat and landed on his feet, summoning the Blade of the Blooded Templar back to his hand. Kaelir stood between him and the blade—perfect. If everything went right, he’d be impaled from behind.

The elf spun out of the way just in time, launching another wave of fire at Thalion. It almost seemed like he had eyes in the back of his head—most likely some form of danger sense of his own. Otherwise, he would have noticed that only one elf was still standing. Even the two airborne archers had been struck down by the Sanguis Impera. Soon, Thalion would be able to command the cursed elves to turn on their leader.

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Catching his sword midair, Thalion unleashed a fully charged Mana Slash toward Kaelir. The elf’s ability to withstand his attacks so effortlessly, even with all of Thalion’s skills enhanced by his bloodline, was beyond frustrating.

Kaelir dodged to the side, blasting flames from his right hand to propel himself faster, then dashed forward with another of those devastating flaming punches. Normally, repeating the same move would be foolish—but Thalion had no clear counter for that kind of power. He met the incoming strike head-on, swinging his sword at the blazing fist.

Seeing the flaming blade, coated in a thin film of blood, descending toward him, Kaelir changed tactics. He aborted his punch mid-swing and detonated a small explosion of fire from his hand, sending both of them flying backward through the air.

“Quick, shoot him with arrows as soon as you’re done healing!” Kaelir shouted without turning around, sidestepping to attack Thalion from a different angle.

Until now, Kaelir had been so focused on Thalion that he hadn’t noticed the change in his elves. Their eyes now glowed crimson, and they were slowly rising to their feet. Thalion had fed them some of his own blood through the vines of the Sanguis Impera, strengthening both the curse and the elves themselves. It had drained most of the vines completely, but it was absolutely worth it—Kaelir had no idea what was happening behind him.

Thalion didn’t want to shout commands, but technically, the cursed elves should attack Kaelir. After all, he was the only one nearby whose veins still carried blood—Thalion was off-limits to the curse’s hunger. It was getting harder and harder to keep up with the chosen elf, who grew more dangerous with each passing moment.

Thalion had already used most of his skills and was running out of options. There was one last technique he was preparing—something he’d unleash once Kaelir was distracted by his mutinous subordinates—but otherwise, all he had left was his sword. From time to time, he conjured different variations of Mana Barriers to slow the chosen down: thin ones that tripped him up or thick, sturdy ones that blocked his sidesteps.

The fight reminded Thalion a little of the final battle between Aang and the Firelord from Avatar: The Last Airbender—with the small but crucial difference that Thalion couldn’t just activate some divine “Avatar State” and win without effort.

“What’s taking so long?! Shoot him with arrows!” Kaelir shouted again, his voice sharper now.

As if in response, he narrowly dodged an arrow that whistled past the back of his head. One of the archers—eyes glowing red and tendrils of crimson mist rising from his skin—had fired a fully charged power shot straight at him. Kaelir spun around in confusion just in time to see his own elves charging toward him.

“What in the name of—” he began, but the rest of his sentence was swallowed as a massive, swirling vortex of blood materialized above him. From it, enormous crimson lances—each over four meters long and pulsing with raw energy—rained down toward the chosen.

Thalion could barely see through the inferno that erupted in response, but he kept channeling the spell regardless. Kaelir hadn’t managed to dodge, and Thalion was sure he was blocking with a barrier.

Then, a massive fiery explosion tore outward from Kaelir’s position, obliterating Thalion’s spell and throwing him several meters back. When the flames finally began to settle, Kaelir stood in the center of the blast zone—angry, breathing heavily, and scorched. His barrier hadn’t held completely; deep burns covered his arms and chest. The lances hadn’t managed to inflict the curse—against someone like him, it simply couldn’t take hold for long before being purged.

“What have you done to my elves?!” Kaelir roared, his voice infused with so much mana that the air itself vibrated, painful to the ears.

“I already told you— for a chosen, you’re quite weak,” Thalion replied coldly. He wanted to provoke Kaelir, to make him lose his composure. He needed every possible advantage, because despite his calm front, he was far from confident in winning this fight. Kaelir was a monster—far more powerful than Thalion had anticipated.

Those cursed elves might tip the scales, depending on whether Kaelir killed them outright or hesitated.

“Weak?! WEAK?! You’ll pay for this insolence!” Kaelir bellowed, his voice cracking with rage as he poured even more mana into his words.

Thalion almost made a snide remark about Kaelir being more offended by “insolence” than by the fact that his soldiers were now cursed and turning against him—but before he could, Kaelir exploded, flames bursting in every direction as he screamed at the top of his lungs.

“WEAK?! I’LL SHOW YOU WEAK!”

Yep. There it was. Kaelir was going all out.

The chosen’s aura spiked to heights Thalion hadn’t thought possible. He would have to be extremely careful now—those flames could kill him in seconds.

The first to burn were the cursed elves. They didn’t seem to have enough intelligence or will left to dodge the roaring inferno that erupted around their master. A massive vortex of fire swirled outward, expanding rapidly and consuming everything in its path.

At least now, Thalion had his answer. Kaelir had no problem killing his own people—without even blinking.