Thalion loved his title. What had once felt like a curse was now his greatest advantage. The pull was subtle but persistent—a magnetic draw toward the pillar, as if he were a moth and the destination a beacon of blinding light. He didn’t bother masking his presence much, cutting through the deep water at a steady, confident pace. Between his bloodline ability and the danger-sense gifted by his title, he felt near-untouchable. No lurking predator could catch him unaware, not anymore.

Eventually, he reached a shadowed tunnel where a few fishfolk stood guard. They loitered casually, spears in hand but eyes unfocused. They clearly didn’t expect anyone to reach this far. Still, even inattentive guards posed a problem. Charging headlong would be suicide, especially with unknown numbers deeper within the chamber. Thalion crouched just out of sight in the corridor, weighing his options. Staying here meant being an easy target. In contrast, the open chamber would offer space to manouver.

With a flicker of resolve, Thalion activated his bloodline skill. One heartbeat later, he materialized in their midst like a living storm, manifesting as a spectral blur above the stone. His entrance was a declaration of war. A roaring Tsunami Breaker exploded from him, vaporizing all four guards and scattering their mangled bodies across the chamber. Blood and flesh drifted downward like macabre confetti. The chamber, likely a drowned palace, was vast and broken, its proud columns now weathered monuments of ruin.

Beneath him, over fifty fishfolk turned their attention toward the surface as crimson mist and body parts descended from above. They had seen the aftermath of his opening strike—and now, they knew war had come. But Thalion quickly realized the situation was far from ideal. Fifty opponents were too many. Dodging all their attacks while retaliating with lethal force would be nearly impossible. One lucky strike could end him.

Still, retreating immediately would make him look weak, and besides—this was a chance to test himself. With his bloodline skill in reserve, ready to reset both position and health, he could afford to push forward. He scanned the crowd and noticed several individuals adorned with strange, glimmering pearls. Pearls he very much intended to claim.

Wasting no time, Thalion fired a gleaming Aqua Lance at a cluster of slower fishfolk—those who had been sluggish to react to his arrival. A few agile ones tried to yank their comrades away with watery tendrils, but his lance was faster. Seven bodies dropped, their blood staining the water in murky streaks. The others retaliated instantly. Spears, sharp and precise, sliced through the current. Thalion twisted away, narrowly dodging their aim.

Blue, ethereal flames erupted in his wake—manifestations of the illusionary fire he'd carried into battle. They danced and flickered around him and along the lance's trail, shifting with eerie grace. He still didn’t fully understand what these flames did, but they seemed to both empower him and disorient his enemies. That was more than enough for now.

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A chaotic cry rang out through the water.

"What the hell is happening?!" shouted one of the fishfolk, staring in horror at the blue fire coiling around his hand.

"I—I don’t know! Everything looks... warped!" another stammered, his voice muffled from below.

Thalion grinned. It was the first useful feedback he’d received in a long while. The Leviathan had screamed too loudly to understand anything the fishfolk said. But this—this was interesting. The flames didn’t just obscure; they distorted. They infected perception. Better yet, they couldn’t be extinguished with water. Some tried, using weak pulses and unfocused waves, but the fire clung to the very water itself. Their spells failed to smother it.

He noted that this group was different from the usual grunts. Among them were mages and healers, now casting from the rear lines. The mages created strange orbs of condensed water, encasing themselves in shimmering bubbles. Healers chanted and pointed, infusing nearby warriors with bursts of speed and agility. Those empowered fighters stopped throwing their spears. They dove toward him, intending to end the fight with blades and blood.

Their weapon retrieval reminded Thalion of something he had forgotten to investigate earlier—those curious amulets and spears that let them summon their weapons back to hand, even after a throw. He made a mental note to check the contents of his spatial ring later. He had taken a few of those items from previous fights. Perhaps they held the secret.

That was something Thalion couldn’t afford to forget—adding a weapon-recall enchantment to the Sword of the Blooded Templar would be invaluable. A tool like that could make all the difference in future battles. Right now, though, he had a more immediate concern: the enemy’s shields and healing mages made it unwise to rely on Water Slash. That spell was better suited for agile targets, but it lacked the raw force needed to finish them in one blow. Wounding an opponent meant little if they could simply retreat, be healed, and return to the fray. For now, it was better to stick with Aqua Lance or Tsunami Breaker.

He surged forward, slipping through the flickering wall of his own flames. A well-aimed Aqua Lance speared through the skull of a mage in the rear, silencing him before he could even react. The warriors attempting to snipe him from afar were rendered useless. They couldn’t track his movements through the swirling flames and missed every shot. Thalion didn’t even need to dodge anymore—his focus narrowed on the real threat: the melee fighters closing in behind him.