"Whatever you’re trying, it won’t work," Elias said to Thalion, who was currently busy drawing a pentagram on the ground.
"I don’t feel pain, so you can’t torture me like the witch," Elias added with confidence.
Pretty bold for someone completely ensnared and helpless. But he was right—being immune to pain was a problem. Constant pain was useful for breaking the spirit, which meant he’d have a harder time using Gaze. Then there was the issue of the elf prince’s soul being trapped in the lich’s phylactery. The prince must have been broken long ago. Otherwise, Elias wouldn’t be able to access his bloodline so easily.
So Thalion’s plan was simple: cut Elias’s soul and his phylactery into pieces until the prince’s soul rushed back into its body. It would be draining, and he might need to sacrifice part of his own soul-body in the process. But if it meant acquiring a bloodline, it was definitely worth it for Thalion. And he was far from crippling himself by doing so.
While creating the two ritual circles, Thalion faced the same issue as last time, his bloodline kept igniting random parts of the circle, and he had to extinguish the flames and repair the runes immediately. Luckily, this wasn’t his first attempt, and he had mastered the technique much better by now.
"What is this?" the lich muttered, confused, as Thalion sacrificed a sliver of his soul-body to alter the appearance of his blood tentacles. It was only possible within the ritual circle—outside it, his soul-body would have bonded directly with the blood.
Thalion didn’t bother to answer. The tentacles slowly crept forward, while Sanguis Impera made sure the lich couldn't move a single muscle. Even speaking was now impossible. The vines had fully grown through his body, and his stamina and mana were completely drained. Apparently, you can’t talk without any stamina left.
While the bloody tendrils inched toward the lich, Thalion was busy putting out new fires sparked by his unruly bloodline. He couldn’t fully suppress his aura, as that would cost him control of the pentagram, which needed to be constantly flooded with power.
“Let’s start slowly,” Thalion thought as he made the first incision in the undead elf’s chest. Most of the lich’s soul-body was stored in his heart. Normally, Thalion would need to locate the fragment containing the bloodline, but it was obvious the bloodline wasn’t in the lich’s own essence.
So, he began carefully slicing away the outer layers of the heart. Thankfully, he had precise control over his tentacles, which made the process easier. Bit by bit, he dismantled the core of the lich, until he finally found what he was looking for.
All the souls the lich had devoured were crammed into separate sections, like cells in a spiritual prison. Now he had to find the right one.
Thalion had no idea which it was.
Cutting open the wrong soul prison could have disastrous consequences. If the wrong soul took control of the body, he wasn’t sure what would happen. Would the next soul move into position on its own? Could he even separate it again?
At the moment, the souls were all compressed into a tiny, writhing ball, impossible to dissect without risk. Thalion made a mental note: watch out for liches in the future. They clearly hoarded bloodlines, and the souls they captured could no longer evolve. Still, maybe he’d get lucky. Perhaps the next lich would carry a bloodline of the right grade, or even better.
He decided to take the gamble and cut open the prison closest to the lich’s core. If Elias had been using that soul the most, it made sense that it would be held nearest.
It seemed he was right. Thalion immediately felt the surge of hidden power from that soul. But there was a problem, the lich’s soul-body still inhabited the undead elf’s body, and the prince’s soul didn’t even recognize its former vessel. It simply floated there, newly freed and confused.
Sweat was pouring down Thalion’s forehead beneath his mask, the intensity of concentration threatening to overwhelm him.
The first step, relatively easy, was to carve out a pocket inside the elf’s undead body where the lich’s soul wasn’t present. That alone cost him a large amount of his own soul-body.
The lich was fighting back hard. Apparently, when it came to battles of the soul, mana and stamina weren’t required. The lich’s soul was as vile as ever, but it lacked the means to damage Thalion’s blood tentacles.
Once Thalion placed the elf prince’s soul in the pocket, he began to unfold it like an origami figure. This was soul surgery at its highest level, and he had to pause several times to recompose himself.
He was already more exhausted than during the last ritual and the real struggle hadn’t even begun.
The good part was that the prince’s soul no longer had any real consciousness left, which would make the next part much easier. As Thalion unfolded the soul, it became immediately clear which part held the bloodline.
Now it was time for the trick.
He needed to sacrifice another part of his own soul and swap it with the section of the elven soul that contained the bloodline. Thalion realized just how close he was to his limit as he cut that fragment from himself. It was crucial to also slice off a piece of his own bloodline, just the tiniest amount. It would heal quickly without leaving any damage, but merging the two bloodlines required that connection. Without it, there could be complications. No one could possess multiple bloodlines… at least, not naturally.
With his soul trying to regenerate the missing piece, the chance of accepting the elven bloodline was much higher.
Thalion removed both fragments without any issue. The elven prince offered no defense, not even an attempt, which made the procedure smoother. Just what Thalion needed.
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Still, he wondered why he felt so utterly drained. His resources were almost full, only his mana was down to about eighty percent, and that shouldn’t cause this level of exhaustion. He chose to ignore the pain of ripping out part of his own soul and carried on, executing the process with precision.
The moment he released the prince’s soul into his own body, while simultaneously pushing his soul fragment into the elf’s body, a massive resistance hit him.
The soul reacted violently, like a wild beast.
Thalion struggled to keep control of the ritual as the prince’s soul fought back. The only thing he could do was mentally push against it while his soul regenerated, fortunately, with insane speed, thanks to the outsider.
It took over half an hour before the elven prince’s soul fragment was fully assimilated and completely became part of Thalion.
With a deep, relieved sigh, Thalion released his grip on the pentagram and didn’t even bother snuffing out the flames that started burning around him again. He slumped to the ground, breathing heavily, and opened his notifications—or rather, the description of his new bloodline.
Let’s see what this bloodline can actually do.
It came from an elven prince, so it had to be good… right?
Bloodline Transmutation
You have forged a new Bloodline
Bloodline of the Waking Flame
Your blood burns with the power of the Waking Flame. Everything in your presence shall be touched by its fire: air, stone, beasts, and even mana itself will ignite. With training, this ability will become your greatest ally. All shall burn. Every skill you cast and every strand of mana you weave is empowered. Simple fire will blaze with the heat and force of a dragon’s breath. A basic mana barrier will carry the unbreakable will of a mountain. Every spell you cast pulses with the essence of the Waking Flame—evolving mid-flight. Spells can shift, transform, and grow in power, adapting to the situation as though alive. Bearers of the Waking Flame will experience a sharp increase in speed and strength. In addition, you can hold control over advanced spells for longer and push their boundaries further without risk of collapse.
That was… quite something.
Thalion could immediately feel the heat radiating from within. Not visible to others, but familiar, like the moment the Crimson Virethorn had gone all out during the battle with the vampiress. It was a sign of true power.
And the part about increased speed and strength? Not a lie.
He already felt stronger. Lighter.
Yet, when he checked his status screen, there were no visible stat increases. But now that he knew the system had been designed by a long-dead, overpowered god… it made sense. Some things just didn’t add up.
All in all, the bloodline yoink looked like a success.
Thalion let his aura expand slightly while standing up, already feeling a bit recovered from the grueling ritual. Immediately, powerful flames ignited around him. Before, the flames had reached maybe twenty centimeters in length when his aura was restrained—casual, manageable. Now, the flames shot out a meter, radiating a predatory hunger.
He could swear the flames wanted to burn everything nearby.
They didn’t behave like normal fire either. They shifted and swayed, like caught in an invisible current. It reminded him of the kelp forests they used to dive through back on Earth.
Thalion suppressed his aura again and extinguished the flames, which almost seemed to resist him.
He liked that the bloodline’s description was short, direct, and brutal.
Many aspects of the Ashblood lineage had simply vanished, which honestly wasn’t a bad thing.
Losing the ability to rise from the ashes like a phoenix was a bit sad, sure, but Thalion hadn’t exactly been eager to test that one out anyway.
One thing, though, was a little troubling: the business with the Waking Flame. He had never heard of it before, and it sounded… ominous. The line “With training, this ability shall be your ally” was somewhat reassuring, probably just weird phrasing.
The part about empowered skills? Great.
Evolving mid-flight? Also interesting… but potentially catastrophic.
If, during a desperate final attack, a skill suddenly evolved into something he didn’t expect, Thalion could be well and truly screwed.
But since he no longer needed the lich, it was time for some spell testing.
Well, just one test. After this cast, he fully expected the lich to be reduced to ash.
Thalion raised one hand, pointed it at the undead creature, and released his flamethrower.
The pressure of the skill almost knocked him backward, as a jetstream of fire burst forth, widening a meter out, like a dragon’s breath.
This was not the same spell he’d used before.
The power level had skyrocketed.
Thalion had no doubt it was now strong enough to injure even the vampiress.
As for the defenseless lich?
No chance.
Within seconds, nothing but ash remained.
Around the impact zone, fire ignited in the surroundings, burning with the same hunger as before. Thalion had kept his aura restrained, but now the mana from the spell alone was enough to cause that effect.
He would definitely need to train this.
Control would be everything.
In a very good mood, Thalion dispelled the barrier he had created and walked over to Evelyn.
There were no more screams of pain. Just a little whimpering here and there.
He almost caught himself thinking:
"Yes… feel the pain… charge up that pillar."
Evelyn stood at the foot of the stairs leading up to the tower, a worried look on her face. As soon as she saw him, she sprang upright.
“Thalion! You need to get to the front gate. There’s an orc waiting for you. He’s got four human hostages with him!”