That Kai might be the most dangerous of them all was something Thalion struggled to comprehend. Sure, his title had triggered the same sense of unease back on the third stage, but no more than it had for the others. It hadn’t seemed particularly telling back then—just another flicker of intuition. But now? Everything felt different. Suspicion hung in the air like smoke.

“There are people vanishing around him. Not enough to raise alarms, just a few, here and there. But I started getting suspicious after one of my friends disappeared after venturing into a tunnel with him,” Jakob said, voice tight with emotion. “Since then, I’ve been watching him. Watching how he moves when he thinks no one is looking. Trust me, he’s not just dangerous. That man is evil.”

Jakob’s usually stoic presence was cracking at the edges, and Thalion was reminded for a moment that, despite his muscular build, Jakob was still one of the younger ones. He had seen too much, too fast.

“No worries. I believe you,” Thalion replied, trying to lighten the mood with a dry smile. “If it helps, he’s already on my kill list. I could push him up above Zyra. Maybe even Sylas, if that makes you feel better.” He chuckled softly, though the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Still, a lingering thought gnawed at him. The same aura of danger clung to Kai as to Kael, Zyra, and Sylas. But unlike the others, Kai had nothing to gain from Thalion’s death. No better blessing, no political power, no divine favor—at least not obviously. So why had he gone along with it?

“You know what?” Thalion said after a pause, tone darkening. “Let’s move that bastard up the list. Better to be rid of someone like that before they slip a knife in your back.” Jakob nodded gravely, no hint of humor in his expression.

A cold curiosity stirred in Thalion’s chest. How unlucky, or perhaps how lucky had he been to receive that title? Almost every one of his former comrades had revealed themselves as manipulative, power-hungry monsters wrapped in charm and false honor. Predators in disguise.

“Uhmm… excuse me, strong man?” a small voice piped up.

Thalion turned to see a tiny girl—no older than seven—standing at the edge of the tower. Her long brown hair framed a round, solemn face, and she wore a slightly oversized green robe. She looked up at him with wide, glassy eyes, uncertain but brave. Had she jumped up here? Impressive for her age.

“Yes? What is it?” Thalion asked, crouching slightly to meet her gaze.

“I’m alone,” she said quickly, voice trembling. “I haven’t seen any of my family in this tutorial. Can I join your faction? Also, my mom’s name is Grace… and my dad’s is Oliva.” Her last words came in a rush, breaking under the weight of tears forming in her eyes.

Thalion’s first instinct was to be suspicious. In any other case, he might’ve thought this was a trap. But his title told him the truth, this was no deception. Just a lost child. He should really do something against his paranoid nature.

“Of course you can join,” he said gently, softening his tone. “I don’t know every survivor’s name in my camp, but most families don’t end up in the same tutorial. Still, we’ll do everything we can to help you find them in the new world.”

He smiled warmly. “And always remember. Power matters there. We’ve got a lot of hunting parties that help level up the younger ones.”

Her little face lit up with hope, and for a moment, Thalion felt a rare warmth in his chest. Just by being strong—just by existing—he could protect kids like her. He didn’t need to draw his sword, only to be powerful enough that no one dared challenge his protection.

“Okay! Thank you… but I’m not weak. I can jump really high!” she said, puffing up with pride as she wiped away her tears.

“You’re level 36. That’s something, but it’s not enough. You’ll need to push hard to hit level 80 before the tutorial ends.” Thalion’s voice was calm, but serious. “Oh and that ship hovering over there? It’s here to pick you up.”

He gestured toward the scout vessel drifting into position along the wall. A quick message had already been sent: they had a new citizen.

“I’ll work hard,” the girl said, nodding solemnly as she turned to walk toward the vessel. Her stride was purposeful, her posture already steadier.

“Wasn’t that a little harsh?” Jakob asked, watching her go. “She’s already lost her parents. You might’ve just crushed the last piece of her childhood.”

“Maybe,” Thalion said, eyes distant. “But I think it’s better this way. Better she uses the pain and the fear to fuel herself, rather than let it bury her. Power will carry her forward, wherever her path takes her.”

He stood silently for a moment longer, watching the girl disappear into the vessel, as the wind curled around the tower like a whisper of things to come.

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He truly hoped that one day she would find happiness. The memory of her sunken expression lingered in his thoughts, heavy and unshakable. It struck something deep within him, but for now, there was nothing more he could offer. Maybe the best he could do was lead by example.

Thalion pulled his thoughts back to the present. He had people to kill and a pillar to destroy. If he failed now—if he died here—then the girl's dreams might die with him. Whatever plans Ankhet, the vampires, or the elves had for the surviving humans, they weren’t going to be merciful. That much he was sure of.

It was strange how heavily the gods invested in this world, yet how little their influence actually mattered. Then again, Thalion had disrupted things well enough himself. Capturing the Sanguine Thorns meant for the vampires had seriously undermined the vampire god’s plans. And getting Kael out of the way? That might annoy the next god.

A sudden surge of power rolled out from the catacombs. Thalion’s eyes locked onto the emerging figures. Kael appeared, a storm of rage written across his face. Behind him trailed Kai, Sylas, and a group of warriors with grim expressions. The atmosphere shifted. Their killing intent pressed down like a heavy weight, oppressive and bitter.

Thalion’s voice was calm as he reached out telepathically using the communication crystal embedded at his collarbone. “Maike, signal the elite teams. It’s starting.”

Beside him, Jakob flinched as Kael’s aura washed over them, sharp and full of fury. His voice was hesitant when he spoke.

“You’re sure you can beat him? I mean, he’s strong. A lot’s happened since the last time you two met.”

That much was true. But Thalion had grown too. He had clawed his way up to a level of strength he doubted Kael could reach, even with the backing of a god. Since their last clash, his power had multiplied.

His Crimson Virethorn had undergone a full evolution, reshaping not just the plant but Thalion’s body itself. His vitality had surged beyond a thousand points, turning him into a living fortress. His strength passed six hundred, more than enough to overpower Kael in direct combat.

The connection to the outsider coursed through him, mending wounds and replenishing energy faster than any potion ever could. He had spent nearly a full year in training—blood magic and swordsmanship honed by veterans from the Golden Palace. Maybe not their best, but more than enough to elevate him.

Before this tutorial, he had never even held a sword. Now, he could dismantle enemies with ease. Outnumbered? It didn’t matter anymore. The dwarven warrior had even taught him how to throw a punch that broke bone. Thalion wasn’t just stronger. He was refined, sharpened.

And then there were his bloodline gifts.

He could ignite the very air around him—uncontrolled, chaotic, but undeniably deadly. Once he summoned his blood garden, the world would burn anyway. He could also teleport and heal himself fully in an instant, which made his margin for error absurdly wide.

His strongest bloodline ability conjured an attack so powerful it eclipsed everything else he could do. Not that he planned to use it on Kael. The man was a ranger—fast, strong, perceptive. But durable? Not likely. That kind of power was better saved for a true threat.

His weapon, the Blade of the Blooded Templar, was likely stronger than anything Kael owned. His armor could repair itself. His vampiric eyes could strike a target’s mind, shaking their resolve and soul with a single glance. If they made eye contact during battle, Kael would feel the blow.

Thalion ran through the options. There were dozens of ways to kill Kael. Very few existed for Kael to kill him. Maybe decapitation. Maybe a strike through the heart. Could he still trigger his bloodline skill if his head was cut off? Possibly. It would cost a staggering amount of mana, but with the strength of his human form, the amulet, and the Heart of the Sanguine Archon, his chances were good.

He still had the option to shift forms during battle. Revealing the Crippled Eclipsari was risky, but if it meant victory, he wouldn’t hesitate. Right now, his human form was the strongest. The Eclipsari came close. The Eagle and the Tidecaller Serpent were slightly behind, but still potent in their own right.

He reminded himself not to let any form fall too far behind. Doing so would limit his long-term evolution. Abandoning any of them wasn’t an option. Each one mattered.

As he stared at the approaching Kael, Thalion could feel the weight of his own killing intent surging inside him. Power radiated off his body, a storm of monstrous force and silent promise. His aura answered Kael’s like a blade drawn from its sheath.

It was finally time.