The Curator
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Chapter 242: Battle for the first Pillar (2)
🕑 Added 2025-05-19 21:48:43 +0000 UTCThalion withdrew his domain, letting the crimson vines recede into the ground like slithering serpents returning to their den. He didn’t want to injure the weaker fighters trailing behind. Most were E-grade or late F-grade, and the passive energy of his domain would drain them quickly. Besides, the blood arrows served better at dispatching foes from a distance. There was no need to waste blood recklessly, especially with the Crimson Virethorn storing more than enough. In fact, by his count, he had gathered more blood than he'd spent so far.
The real nightmare, he mused darkly, would be ending up on a world filled with elementals or any other bloodless abominations. For a blood cultivator like him, that would be hell.
Below, the last remnants of the undead and stonekin army vanished behind the gate. Above, eight radiant circles of light loomed high in the sky, releasing their wrath in focused beams of light energy. They slammed into the base’s shield like hammers against glass. The barrier held for now but cracks had begun to splinter across its surface.
"Should we breach it now?" Kaldrek asked as he approached, eyeing the cracking dome of energy. "Before they regroup underground?"
Thalion responded calmly, his tone steady. "No. We’ll let the formation burn it down first. Once it’s in ruins, we’ll move into the catacomb. No need to risk lives unnecessarily."
He was right. The battle had gone smoother than anyone could’ve hoped. The skyships had devastated enemy formations from above, giving the elite strike force space to breathe. Had they not ground their levels and refined their techniques beforehand, this fight might have gone very differently. Thalion had expected more resistance from the stone warriors but thankfully, they had crumbled under pressure like brittle statues.
Unfortunately, no enemies had survived to reveal what traps lay below. He could only hope the stone mages could roll boulders down the descending corridors to trigger hidden runes or pressure plates assuming it was that kind of catacomb.
Soon after, another volley of light beams struck the shield. This time, the structure gave way entirely. Walls buckled. Towers shattered. Explosions bloomed across the base like thunder. When the smoke cleared, only a few scorched structures remained. It was clear the enemy had abandoned the surface.
The crystal core was swiftly found, and with a few commands, base ownership transferred to Thalion. His second conquest in this brutal tutorial. Hopefully, the rewards would reflect the effort.
He briefly toyed with the idea of launching a strike against the elves once the special quest was complete. Maybe destroy their base, or better yet, assassinate the elf’s mother and steal her bloodline. The thought alone made him grin. The pointy-eared bastards would lose their minds. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t worth the risk. The empowered elf wouldn’t be hiding. Neither would the vampire. Gods didn’t bestow such gifts so their blessed could sit behind walls.
For the vampire, the mission was likely Ankhet’s resurrection. But the elves? Their motives remained frustratingly unclear. They hadn’t lifted a finger against the undead so far. Why intervene now? According to the Spider Queen, the elven goddess had nearly lost her divinity reduced to one of the weaker gods. Her clan might help her recover, but the blow would echo for centuries.
If Thalion ever did kill that elf and absorb his bloodline, he’d have to make sure no one remembered his name. The last thing he needed was an entire pantheon of elfs hunting him. Maybe he could frame the vampires. Create a trail of misdirection. Slip out quietly while everyone looked the other way.
He chuckled at the thought. What would the elves even tell their gods?
"Hello your divine champion was killed. Probably by a human. Name’s Thalion. We don’t know what he looks like. Wears a black hood and mask. Good luck finding him!"
Yeah, no god would be pleased with that.
Thalion turned his gaze back toward the others. Maike and Kaldrek had taken command of logistics, coordinating their people while others looted the ruins or stood guard at the catacomb entrance. One of the skyships activated its portal to send the fighters back to the base. Now, all three captured bases were connected, able to reinforce each other at a moment’s notice.
“We can’t use formations underground, at least nothing beyond the buffing effects,” Thalion called out, addressing the group. “Only the strongest go below. A few healers and support. Everyone else stays here. No need to take risks.”
He walked toward the gate. A thick darkness pooled behind it unnatural, cold, and silent. This wasn’t a natural tunnel. Towering gates flanked the path, their runes faintly glowing with old magic. Behind them, vast corridors stretched down into the unknown.
This entire structure felt ancient, far older than anything Thalion had encountered before. After a brief moment of preparation, the strike force gathered and began their descent into the depths of the catacombs. Earth mages had joined them, but they quickly discovered their abilities were ineffective. The walls resisted manipulation, leading to a sobering realization: the passageways weren’t made of stone at all. That discovery, however, carried an unexpected advantage. If the mages couldn’t shape the walls, neither could the enemy. That would make things significantly easier for Thalion.
They descended for over ten minutes, and still no sign of movement. The halls stretched endlessly ahead, lined with walls that looked more like those of a forgotten temple than a military outpost. The eerie silence gnawed at the senses, disturbed only by the echo of boots against unnaturally smooth floors. Thalion’s danger sense remained still, a reassuring absence that suggested no imminent ambush. Maike, in contrast, wandered like an excited child, examining every carved symbol and marking. Whether they were ancient runes or some form of long-dead language, Thalion couldn’t tell and, frankly, didn’t care. Their goal was clear: reach the pillar, destroy it, and if possible, locate a path to the palace.
They quickened their pace until, finally, resistance. Three new corridors split ahead, but the center was blocked by a wall of sand and fused earth. Behind it, stonekin defenders prepared to halt their advance. It didn’t matter. With a brief exchange of spells and steel, the barrier shattered and the defenders fell in pools of dust and broken bone. Curiously, there were few vampires among them. Likely, they gathered deeper within, closer to the pillar, alongside the bulk of their remaining forces.
Now that they had rubble to work with, the earth mages went to work, shaping boulders from the debris and sending them rolling ahead to trigger traps. It was a far more efficient solution than simply blasting the ground blindly. Their choice of path was made clear: the center tunnel showed signs of recent passage, the dust disturbed, footprints overlapping. One of the monks had tried to capture a retreating stone warrior, but the soldier had bitten through his own tongue and choked to death rather than be taken. That kind of loyalty or fanaticism was truly something.
As they ventured deeper, Thalion found himself wondering about the place’s origin. Massive corridors wound endlessly downward, devoid of furniture or function. Why build such immense halls only to leave them barren? Perhaps the original furnishings had long since turned to dust, lost to time. If Ankhet were to rise again, they’d need an entire army just to clean and restore the place.
He sighed. This march was beginning to feel pointless. The lack of resistance, the endless walking. It was almost insulting. Perhaps the earlier barricade had been a psychological tactic, meant to slow them down, force them to remain alert with every step. If so, it had worked. But how deep could this place go? If the journey to reach the pillar took an entire day, it would be near impossible to destroy them all, especially without help from the other factions.
More troubling was the possibility of a wrong turn. If they’d chosen the wrong tunnel, the entire operation might be wasted. Still, the architecture didn’t resemble a labyrinth. This was a palace or at least a shrine meant to impress, not confuse.
Growing impatient, Thalion surged ahead. The slow-moving boulders were taking too long. He trusted his danger sense completely by now and it had never failed him. And with every step, he became more certain: this was the right path. If that instinct proved true, his title was even more broken than he had realized.
The corridor widened. Ten meters. Then fifteen. Vaulted ceilings soared above. In this system-enhanced world, even the halls of power seemed vast beyond necessity. Compared to Earth’s palaces, this place was monstrous.
Thalion’s pulse quickened. His danger sense began to tingle, faint but growing. He welcomed it. They wouldn’t be able to kill him in time, not with the bloodline powers he had now. He’d grown stronger than he could’ve imagined just a week ago. If Kael appeared here and now, it would be a blessing.
But it wasn’t Kael waiting at the end of the tunnel, it was something far worse.
He entered a colossal chamber, its scale difficult to grasp. The ceiling stretched two hundred meters overhead, supported by dark crystalline arches. At its center, a massive crystal hung like a dead star, faintly glowing with inner light. The far wall was blocked by a barricade of bone and stone, where archers and mages were already preparing spells. And behind that...
Thalion’s breath caught.
A pillar. Towering and grotesque. It resembled the black pillar from the surface, but where that one had pulsed with eerie vitality, this one was utterly dead. Its surface was a twisted mosaic of embedded skulls, their mouths eternally open in silent screams. It looked less like a structure and more like a corpse tower.
The aura it radiated was suffocating. Heavy. Malevolent.
Thalion narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he could destroy something like that. Not alone.
Best to wait. Let the others catch up. Destroying the barricade could trigger a trap or provoke a suicidal last stand. And besides… could this really be it? Could this be the only pillar, they needed to destroy?
He stepped back, his hand already tightening on the hilt of his sword.
Either way, he was ready.
<author note>
Hello,
today a bit earlier then usual.
Not long until the tutorial ends and you finally get some important information, I couldnt just tell you outright.
I have also outlined the next three books but more about that later.
Anyway have a great week
Cheers
<author note>
Comments
Dave_S
Thanks for the chapter!
Antoine Shannon
How many words are in the chapter on average?
Some Guy
TFTC
Freelin
Thanks for the chapter!
Lan
Thanks for the chapter!!
Lux_LP
Tftc but i think the nr is wrong Chapter 142?(142)
jerome
Thanks for the early chapter. Looking forward to start of the battle.
malte willand
Good to hear that u are planning more :3
