Chapter 267: Good Job Crimson Garden

Thalion stormed down the corridor where Kael, Sylas, and Kai had previously fought, their trail marked by signs of a fierce struggle. Their forces were still holding out at the end of the passage, now reinforced by Thalion’s own fighters, with Kargul leading the charge. Without their elite leaders, Kael’s group had been pushed back by the relentless wave of empowered undead beasts. They’d managed to hold their ground in a defensible chamber, where only a single corridor provided access. A natural choke point that made holding the line feasible, but barely.

Despite their earlier loyalty to Kael, his fighters now looked more relieved than defiant. Many were just glad for reinforcements. A few elves glanced nervously as Thalion and his entourage sprinted past, heading straight down the central tunnel—the one where the battle was thickest. Kael had ventured deep, though not nearly as deep as the grand aquarium Thalion had explored before. It couldn't be far now. The final pillar must be close.

They reached the chamber, chaos erupting around them as weapons clashed and spells lit up the air. Confused faces turned toward Thalion as he entered, but he didn’t waste time.

"Listen up!" Thalion’s voice echoed with authority, amplified by mana. "Kael, Sylas, and Kai have used their escape tokens. They’re gone. I’m taking over now. You’re free to leave and let us handle the last pillar or stay and fight alongside us."

The response was mixed. Some argued, some nodded in agreement, and others turned and left without a word. With the situation clarified, Thalion dashed to the frontlines where the real threat awaited—a massive undead T. rex barreling down the corridor. Its gaping maw spewed red mist, and crimson veins pulsed beneath its rotting flesh, glowing with the power granted by the witch’s ritual.

Once, facing such a creature would have been a serious challenge. But now, it barely registered as a threat. The beast was already wounded, arrows protruding from its hide. These undead were puppets—mindless, controlled by vampires or witches. Their mental defenses were feeble.

Thalion met the T. rex’s glowing eyes and activated Crimson Gaze, pouring raw power into the skill. At the same moment, he unleashed Crimson Garden, channeling everything he had into the summoning. The beast’s limbs locked for a second, then it collapsed like a felled tree. The garden responded immediately, thorned vines bursting through the chamber, entangling and impaling the creature as crimson flames began to devour its flesh.

Blood seeped from the wounds, and the Crimson Virethorn drank greedily. Dozens of other fallen undead added to the feast, and with each drop of blood, the garden grew stronger—lethal and almost sentient. No ordinary undead could survive more than seconds within its reach. The poisonous mist that plagued other fighters was either absorbed by the garden or burned away by crimson flames.

Maintaining such a devastating field should have been impossible. The mana cost alone was astronomical. But Thalion’s passive abilities, his amulet, and his connection to the Outsider made it sustainable. His regeneration outpaced the cost. It was a terrifying demonstration of what he had become.

The witch’s blood ritual no longer had access to the underground veins—it couldn’t, not here. The stone floor was impervious to their grade, meaning the ritual’s power lines now ran exposed on the surface. The Crimson Virethorn tapped into them without hesitation. The moment it touched the glowing veins, the entire garden surged with explosive power. Even Thalion felt the rush. The garden surged forward, slow but unstoppable, like a crimson tidal wave devouring everything in its path.

"Holy shit… what was the point of all that fighting?" one of Kael’s warriors muttered in disbelief, watching the undead melt away like paper in fire. Thalion barely needed to intervene. Only the largest or most resilient beasts received his gaze, just to keep the Virethorn from wasting too much energy.

The balance of power had shifted entirely. Without the witch’s buff, the undead were helpless. And with no will of their own, they just charged forward—blind, suicidal, and utterly doomed. Thalion advanced calmly, absorbing the pollen emitted by the garden’s blossoms so none of his allies would be harmed. As he moved, he retracted the garden behind him, allowing the fighters to follow unimpeded.

The progress was staggering. Compared to Kael and his men, who had clawed their way forward inch by inch, stopping constantly to burn mist or heal injuries, Thalion’s approach was effortless. Behind him, the soldiers marched almost casually. A few mages and archers launched spells over his shoulder to support him, but it was barely necessary. Any undead that survived the first moments within the garden either collapsed on their own or were punctured by vines that slithered into their eyes and mouths if their skin proved too tough.

Thalion barely needed to lift a finger as the Crimson Virethorn reveled in its perfect environment. Like a spider that had spun its web in the heart of a locust swarm, it fed with unrelenting hunger. For hundreds of meters, it devoured every undead creature in its path. However, eventually, the witch realized that her power was no longer flowing into her army. She abruptly ceased the ritual, cutting off the blood magic that had fueled her creations.

Though mildly irritating, the change didn’t significantly affect the situation. The undead had still received their initial boost upon arriving in the tunnels, but without the constant flow of magic, the advantage waned. More pressing was the arrival of new enemies—vampires. They weren’t particularly strong, but their tactics were more refined than the mindless undead. They launched blood-based attacks, which Thalion absorbed with ease. When those failed, they switched to physical projectiles—arrows tipped with enchanted bone.

But Thalion, walking calmly through the carnage, summoned a translucent mana barrier before him. The arrows shattered against it, sparks and shards dancing in the air like dying stars. Even when they managed to fracture the barrier, Thalion discovered something new—he could heal it mid-combat. A surge of mana directed at the cracks restored the shimmering wall. It was a technique he had never needed before. In most fights, the barrier was a quick shield for a single blow, not a wall to be maintained over time.

The vampires had little chance to charge their attacks. Thalion’s archers loosed volley after volley, keeping the enemy pinned and disoriented. Without access to traditional spellcraft, most of the vampires had nothing else to fall back on. Their blood magic, once deadly, was nearly useless against Thalion. The realization triggered something within him—an understanding of the true nature of the Sanguine Thorn, and why Tenebrice, the First Vampire, was feared even by his own kin.

The Crimson Virethorn, Thalion now realized, had been designed not just to kill the living but to devour the undead. Especially vampires. The plant had been forged to dominate the very bloodlines it now consumed. It made sense. Vampires had the most refined, most potent blood. A weapon that turned them into prey would naturally ascend to the pinnacle of blood magic. It was ironic, even poetic. Thalion wondered if vampirekind had once made a pact not to prey upon their own. He remembered the trope from Earth’s old vampire films, and strangely, it seemed to hold true here as well.

If Tenebrice was weakened, the others might already be plotting his downfall. They surely knew what the Sanguine Thorn was truly meant for. As he descended deeper into the tunnels, following his living garden of death, his thoughts grew heavier. The Virethorn pulsed beneath his ribs, ecstatic and greedy as it drank hundreds of liters of blood.

Eventually, they reached a vast subterranean chamber—the final threshold. The last of the undead had been wiped out. Now only vampires remained. The space was colossal—more than a hundred meters tall and just as wide, shaped like a perfect cube. Red mist coiled through the air like writhing serpents. On the far side stood a single corridor, where the witch, her wyvern, and the red-skinned orc waited. Behind them, just barely visible, was the beginning of the final pillar. This was the last chamber before the true end.

Hundreds of vampires filled the space, forming layered defenses. Their blood magic shimmered in their palms, but Thalion could already tell they had miscalculated. At range, those spells would be little more than sparks against his will. One vampire, more creative than the rest, hurled a traditional fireball at the Crimson Garden. It splashed harmlessly across the vines. Its orange flames turning an unnatural crimson red as Thalion’s divine passive extended to his summoned domain.

But this was different. He couldn’t simply walk forward anymore. In the corridor, enemies came from one direction. Here, they would attack from all sides. The vampires had constructed wooden towers along the chamber walls, giving them elevated firing positions and cover. The coming battle would not be easy and the vampires would not run.

Thalion stood just within the corridor, behind his mana shield, considering his next move. He turned to his people.

“We're close. One final push. On my signal, we flood the chamber and eliminate every vampire inside. Kael’s healers will remain here—anyone wounded falls back to this corridor for treatment. Any—”

He never finished the sentence.

An overwhelming aura surged into the corridor like a crashing tide, pressing down on them with suffocating weight. Thalion turned, eyes narrowing. A figure entered from the shadows—a vampiress draped in blood-red silk, her presence eclipsing even the undead wyvern, the red orc, and the witch who flanked her. It was the same vampiress who had attacked his base at the start of Stage Five.

At her mere arrival, the Crimson Virethorn recoiled. The garden, once rampant and wild, shrank back like a frightened beast. Thalion’s eyes widened as he felt it—not the vampiress herself, but the plant under her heart. That was the true threat. He couldn’t see it, but its aura enveloped the chamber like a hungry curse.

Whatever lived inside her was older, deeper, stronger. Compared to it, the Crimson Virethorn was a sapling in a forest of titans.

“New plan,” Thalion shouted, his voice sharp and controlled. “I take the vampiress. Kargul, Evelyn, Josh, Jack—you handle the witch, the orc, and the wyvern. Everyone else, handle the standard vampires. No hesitation. No mercy. We kill everything.”

He met the vampiress’s eyes, and at the same time, he called out inwardly to the Virethorn.
“Yo, don’t you dare back down now. I’m not losing to her and you’re not making me look weak. Think of how she’ll taste once we rip that plant out of her heart.”

His message was saturated with bloodlust and unshakable will. For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, deep inside his chest, a heat flared like a second sun. The Crimson Virethorn stirred, not with fear but rage. It understood. There was no retreat. No surrender.

It was all or nothing.


<author note>

Damm it looks like i really upset some people with the last chapter. I hope this will mend your wounds ;)

<author note>