“Is flying over your seat necessary, mage? It looks… uncanny,” The exemplar Marie said, eyes narrowing. The saddle was bobbing up and down sharply below the mage, yet Aren remained perfectly level.

  Aren drew a slow, lazy breath, twisting his ankle across his knee, leaning against nothing to others’ eyes under the night sky. “To be specific, I’m sitting on an air cushion that expands and retracts. It’s made of tiny little tubes that adjust as necessary.”

  “What?” The exemplar still found herself dumbfounded by the arrogance and lack of respect the mage showed.

  “Oh, it’s quite simple actually,” Aren said, waving a hand, brushing aside a complicated truth as if it were simple. “Each of those tiny tubes reacts to pressure and maintains balance across the network. When part of it sinks, the tubes swell, pushing me back up. When it rises too sharply, they deflate, letting the seat settle smoothly.”

  He leaned back further, the invisible backrest holding him effortlessly. “The skalith jumps or rocks, the air adjusts, and I remain comfortable and sore-free. I think whoever tamed those beasts for riding was desperate. No horse I ever rode was this… bumpy.”

  “That’s amazing,” Mar’tei said, her eyes reflecting light from the two moons that rose that night. “Can I learn it?”

  “Please do,” Bar’tik said, holding tightly to his lizard mount. “Or better, give me one too. This isn’t how men are supposed to travel.”

  “I’m using my sympathetic sorcery to increase the spell’s reactivity to sudden movements. Without it… I wouldn’t wish this experience on you,” Aren said, recalling the trials of making the spell work with only wizardry. If the cushion extended too slowly, the spell would falter. If it overextended… fortunately, he was fast at casting flight spells.

  “I see…” Mar’tei fell into silent thought.

  “I’m starting to think that even if the Sun forgives me for taking you along, the Prophet-King won’t…” Marie felt like sagging in her saddle but kept her back straight, maintaining her diligence and authority. “You even made me carry that cursed rock.”

  “It’s just a way of finding a destination through artificially entangled crystals resonating at the same frequency,” Aren again decided to respond to the comment with magic theory. “Otherwise, I would need to visit the location beforehand and cast another spell to save the coordinates in relation to the ley lines.”

  “I didn’t ask for you to give me lessons!” the exemplar boomed.

  “Hahaha,” the Luminous One, riding by the exemplar’s side on another lizard, started laughing. “I’m sorry. But I think it’s the first time I’ve seen you this unbalanced, Marie.”

  “See, Marie, your charge is happy,” Aren said. “You don’t need to thank me, although it would be nice to see a bonus on my performance review.”

  Marie clenched her fists doing her best to not react to the mage. Instead she turned to the young woman beside her, “I’m sorry Luminous One. I know this is highly unusual but it’s the best way to ensure your safety.”

  “It’s fine, I rode a young skalith when I was a child,” she said with a bright smile on her face. “I’ve wanted to do so again for a long time.”

  The exemplar’s eyes softened a little. “I see… With less than thirty of us, we should reach the city of Balthen in three days. We will rest a little before the morning and then continue throughout the day. Luminous One, please inform me if you require my miracles.”

  “I’m fine,” the chestnut-haired girl said, petting her lizard’s head affectionately.

  The exemplar had decided to change her route secretly, swapping the order of visiting the cities as their path allowed without loss of time. With a smaller group, they could also travel faster.

  The exemplar’s interrogation of her force was abruptly ended by the notice that three One Sun’s warriors had been assassinated. One of them was the man who had informed her of the supposed death of the Luminous One. This led her to choose only her most trusted and experienced warriors and moved the rest to serve as a distraction.

  Aren proposed having them travel with the larger group to lend it legitimacy, as the news of their help had already spread through the city despite the exemplar’s best efforts. They were only joining now because he needed time to observe and record the group of adventurers to create a believable replacement and automate it. His golems would inform him if they ever detected an attack. He could then teleport back and capture some of the assassins.

  The city they traveled to was also home to a scarlet governor, whom Marie believed would lend the group aid.

  Aren spoke, “Considering we are traveling and not really doing anything, could you tell me the ranks and hierarchy of the Sands of Ayru?”

  “If I inform you, will you promise not to make a fool of yourself in public?” asked Marie.

  “I will not do anything that would make this escort mission any more difficult,” Aren said truthfully. “Not making a fool of myself depends on me knowing the local culture and norms.”

  “That’s reasonable,” The exemplar let out an annoyed huff to calm down her nerves. “Our hierarchy is quite simple, all cities govern themselves and their villages under the holy wisdom of the Prophet-King. The Prophet-King holds the ultimate power over all legislation and religious matters.”

  “Each of the one-hundred-seventy-nine cities has a governor who reports directly to the Prophet-King, though many are related and often entangled politically with the head of one of the nine great families.”

  “There are three colors that a governor wields, directly correlating to their city’s size and influence. The most prominent is the Scarlet class, governing cities large enough to house hundreds of thousands of people, often with many villages under their domain. Next are the Amber-clad, whose cities typically hold around fifty thousand inhabitants. Finally, the Silver-clothed decorate governors of new or small cities, with populations ranging from five to twenty thousand.”

  “Then there are direct governors’ descendants that wear turquoise cloth and guards that wear pink cloth. People of lower birth often work as envoys or diplomats wearing white cloth. The guards that serve the city garrison and achieve official titles that wear blue colors.”

  “Finally, the church is simpler, as there are only two colors. The Exemplars wear green, as you can guess, since it is the color most nourished by the sun’s light. The initiated priesthood wears yellow to represent the will of the Prophet-King’s golden cloth.”

  “I see. The city we are heading for right now is governed by a Scarlet-class official. Why do you believe he will help?” Aren asked.

  The exemplar, used to people following orders and not daring to ask so many questions, sighed. “He is a known devout and supporter of the Prophet-King. Even if he may not commend the Luminous One’s actions, as he believes in tradition, he will not allow any harm to come to her.”

  “Won’t he demand concessions on your part? Any noble I know would jump at the chance to glorify or enrich himself.”

  “He wouldn’t dare do such a thing in front of an exemplar,” she said, seeming offended by the very idea of such a possibility. “We of the Sands are more honorable than your kind.”

  “Alright, if you say so,” Aren said, unconvinced.

  “We met his son Olli,” the Luminous One added. “He was a nice person and promised to build a hospital in his city, like in your kingdom, Mister Aren.”

  “That’s good. There are logistic and sanitary benefits to having a separate institution for the sick and wounded, even without the use of magic,” Aren said.

  “I asked you to not address the Luminous One personally,” the exemplar scorned him.

  “Why do you say so, Marie?” the Luminous One asked innocently.

  “It’s unfit for you, Luminous One, to speak with a mage,” the holy warrior stated as fact.

  “I think we are already in unusual circumstances, considering you partnered with him to protect me,” the young woman said. “I do not believe that my speaking to Mister Aren is going to insult the traditionalists any more than what you did.”

  “I…” Marie had no convincing response to that. Just by officially adding two unknown mages to her routine, she likely made enemies across the sands. Her eyes darkened as she seemed to consider her future.

  “So when my guardian is brooding,” the Luminous One circled her guard and rode in between the archmage and the exemplar. “We won’t use magic. The plan is to hire surgeons and pharmacists to work alongside the priests to treat the mages.”

  “Maybe your priests could learn from them about the science of healing,” Aren said with a nod. “There has been ongoing research, and there is sufficient scientific proof that anatomical and pestilence knowledge helps priests heal more efficiently, although the increase in efficiency still varies.”

  “Really!?” The young woman turned to him, her chestnut hair whipping across her shoulder.

  “Yes. There was a study group with Power’s priests and mages, and both showed increased efficiency in healing after a three-month-long study.”

  “That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Our priests don’t learn anything about healing. It would be great if that changed. Maybe we could set up some exchange programs with your hospitals. It would be great if we could lower the number of sick people in the world.”

  “Hopefully in the long term we will,” Aren smiled. While he believed monsters to be a priority threat to all civilized life, it was good to know there were people doing good work in other areas. “If you wish, I could try setting something up with my authority as an Archmage. Still, it would be better if your people were convinced to reach out first. I doubt they would accept anything from us as goodwill.”

  “I will try! Thank you Aren! Can I call you that?”

  “It’s okay. You care a great deal about the people, Miss…?” Aren prodded, deciding it was high time he learned her name. He was not going to call her by the title that appointed her as a sacrifice.

  “I’m Crina.”

  “Don’t…” the exemplar tried to interrupt, but was too slow. She glared quickly at everyone around her until she stared at Aren, daring him to speak.

  “What’s this about, Crina?” Aren smiled and ignored the exemplar.

  “Sorry, Marie, I forgot,” the young girl said. “I heard that my name is not supposed to be spoken until I reach the veil. But it’s really just a tradition added centuries ago. A scholar even said that it was done to protect the Luminous One of that time.”

  “That scholar was burned for heresy,” the exemplar seethed.

  “That was for a different reason,” Crina defended. “He tried to prove that only the purple and gray moons are evil, while the white one is the natural companion of the Sun.”

  “Did he prove anything?” Aren asked. Of the three moons, only the white was known to follow a natural rhythm, transitioning from crescent to full moon every forty days. The rest disappeared and changed shape and size as if on a whim.

  “I don’t know. There were only rumors.”

  “And you will stop discussing it,” the exemplar said through gritted teeth. “Luminous One, please come with me.”

  Crina mouthed an apology and followed behind the holy warrior to the front of the group. Aren shrugged. He probably shouldn’t upset the exemplar too much. She was still the one who could take away his right to accompany Crina beyond the veil. Though it seemed that on top of being a sacrifice, she was forced to discard her identity.

  “I don’t know if you are brave or stupid,” Lan rode up to be beside him.

  “I’m unsure if bravery has anything to do with it,” Aren said. “It’s just who I am. Never held much respect for tradition for tradition’s sake.”

  “I can see that,” Lan chuckled. “Still, it may be best to tone it down a little bit, at least.”

  “Our reputation could be affected by it too,” Wes said from behind him.

  “Mhm,” Aren let out a noise of half agreement. “I will figure out a proper rhythm of conversation with her yet.”

  The rest of the night passed slowly, with nothing happening. Their stop before sunrise was short, and their journey restarted before Aren could even fall asleep, his head full of thoughts about his future plans. Mar’tei suffered the most from the lack of rest. As a mage, she did not have a powerful body that could stave off sleep and lacked Aren’s experience with long nights of research.

  “Here, drink this,” Aren said, passing Mar’tei a cup filled with dark fluid with an earthy smell.

  “What is that?” the girl asked, sniffing curiously.

  “It’s an export from Therionia. They call it coffee. Some kind of roasted bean that tastes horrible but brings you energy. It leaves me shaky afterwards but helps when I need to give a lecture after a long night experimenting.”

  She took the cup and tasted it a little, letting the flavour roll on her tongue, and widened her eyes slightly. “It's a bit grainy and heavy, but it doesn’t taste bad. Kind of like roasted nut paste.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “I see…” Aren shook his head, he would stick to herbal and dried fruit mixtures for his relaxation.

  “Say… Ren, what do you think of the woman we are protecting?” Mar’tei asked, looking towards the front of the pack.

  “Maybe naive, certainly brave, seems to care for the people,” Aren summarized his thoughts.

  “You were quite quick to agree to use your Archmage authority to help her. Although I guess you were quick to agree to teach me too,” she added.

  Aren shrugged, feeling a bit uncertain. “I don’t think it will come to much. Our people hate each other, mostly because of the prophets’ hate of magic. We may be at peace right now, but that’s because the current Prophet-King married Prince Alemor. When he passes and the next one is chosen by the Sun’s Eye, we will know if the peace will last.”

  “Every snow returns. We must make as much of each spring as we can,” Mar’tei said.

  “I agree,” Aren nodded. “To answer your question. I want the world to be a better place. So, when someone is doing their best, a little help from a master mage can go a long way.”

  “I see…” Mar’tei cheeks blushed a little on her pale skin. “I will try not to disappoint.”

  Aren looked at her and smiled. “I’m sure you won’t. We can still discuss magic theory if you are able.”

  Mar’tei huffed. “Raiding on those skalith isn’t as bad as trying to tame a yaku, a giant goat our people tame like your horses. Those are the only beasts able to travel during the heavy storms and keep our villages traversable between houses.”

  They passed the time with Mar’tei practicing her cooling spell, trying to keep the cooled air within the perimeter of the effect. Aren ensured that the formation let oxygen move in and out, but the young mage caught on quickly and didn’t require hand-holding.

  When evening finally came, they stopped and preparation for the night began merrily. The holy warriors sang as the campfires started burning and food was prepared. Lan and Wes joined the chorus as they helped with their camp. The tents and supplies they had abandoned were replaced with reserves prepared by the exemplar.

  “Singing without a drink, heresy,” Bar’tik complained, pulling up the tent cloth.

  “They take their job seriously,” Aren said, finishing taking care of their skalith with the help of magic. “Speaking of that, it’s time for your training to start. Wes, Lan, join us too.”

  “It won’t be so easy this time,” Bar’tik said as he loosely tied a cloth string to a spike before standing up to the challenge. Mar’tei shook her head and fixed the knot.

  “Today will be a little different. We won’t…” Aren stopped and looked toward a faraway dune as his detection ward picked up approaching humans.

  “What are we doing?” Lan asked, looking in the direction Aren was observing. “Is there something there?”

  “A group of people is heading in this direction. They are coming from the path ahead, around the dunes,” Aren said, tweaking his spell with his sorcery. “Armed, fifty of them, led by a fourth-stage life practitioner. Some have a sense of holy power around them.”

  “We should warn the Exemplar Marie!” Wes said.

  “Yes. I don’t think those are our assassins, though,” Aren said. “They are not trying to be stealthy.”

  They looked at him, expecting him to take charge. Aren mulled it over for a second, then shook his head. “I don’t think I have ever asked who is the leader of this party?”

  The three warriors turned their heads towards the female mage. She looked a bit unsure as she spoke. “Technically it’s me.”

  “Technically?” Aren prompted.

  “She won the right to it,” Bar’tik said.

  “It was shortly after we decided to adventure together,” Wes explained. “We decided to have a bout of who was most deserving of the title. Mar’tei won single-handedly.”

  Aren raised an eyebrow and looked at the younger mage.

  “They were being their usual foolish selves and wanted to battle it out. I just wanted to let them do it and watch at first, then Lan called me… anyway! Yes, I froze them!” Mar’tei huffed. “Shouldn’t we do something about that group?”

  “We should,” Aren said, smiling. “Our leader should inform our employer.”

  “Now she is your employer?” Mar’tei asked flatly. “Not when you are poking and disrespecting her.”

  “Perks of my life,” Aren laughed. “We should practice for when we are in public. And the public is on the way, I think.”

  Mar’tei looked at him with a gaze that seemed to freeze along with the words she was holding back. Finally, she turned toward Wes, her voice dead. “How do I address the Exemplar?”

  “Depends. Normal civilians would usually refer to an exemplar as Your Holy Radiance or just Your Holiness. Since we work under her, we should get away with calling her Master Exemplar or Holy Exemplar when speaking with her.”

  Mar’tei nodded and turned in place, “Wes and… Ren come with me.”

  They moved through the camp toward its center, the exemplar’s men watching them with suspicion and anger. Especially at Aren, who was still smiling as he walked through the accusatory gazes. Still, they did not bar their way, as the exemplar had already noticed them and was walking toward them.

  She looked between the three of them and finally set her eyes on Aren. “Is there something you need to discuss?”

  “Exemplar, My party’s leader is here,” Aren said with a poker face that hid his amusement, gesturing toward Mar’tei.

  Exemplar Marie turned her head toward Mar’tei, staring directly into her eyes. Mar’tei found the look similar to the one her grandmother gave her whenever she ordered her around, showing no patience for her studies of magic. She tried to sound as official as she could.

  “Master Exemplar,” she started. “Ren discovered fifty armed people heading in this direction from further ahead. They are led by a fourth-stage life practitioner and are not trying to hide. They will be here in a few minutes.”

  The exemplar nodded. “All of you, be ready!”

  “We hear, Exemplar!” The twenty men and women stood straight, hands ready on their weapons.

  “Good. We will meet them here. Form ranks!” she ordered, then turned to Mar’tei. “Your group will be in the back.”

  “Donnavan, stand by the Luminous One.”

  The older man who had protected Crina during the night of the attack bowed and headed for one of the tents. Meanwhile, Aren and the four adventurers found themselves waiting in a group behind a line of soldiers.

  The wait did not last long, and soon a group of heavily armed men and women appeared in their vision from behind a dune, with four priests in tow. They stopped as soon as they saw them, clearly confused at finding another armed group, but upon noticing the green cape over Marie’s shoulder they kneeled to the ground in piety.

  “Holy Radiance, we are blessed by your presence,” the man leading them said. His skin was covered in scars from badly healed wounds, even across his bald scalp. His remaining right eye watched the woman with reverence.

  “State your allegiance!” the exemplar said.

  “I am Louis. We are from the Balthen garrison,” the man answered, his knees shaking slightly under the shining gaze of the exemplar’s eyes.

  “They seem… desperate,” Mar’tei whispered.

  Aren nodded. There was a look of hardened determination to the warriors. Even the priests’ eyes were filled with trepidation.

  “Where is your officer?” Marie asked.

  “We… do not have one,” the man answered.

  “A force like this should always be led by a blue cloth officer. Where are you heading?” The suspicion on her face was clear now.

  “Toward one of the villages. It is going to be attacked by monsters.”

  “Did you leave your city without permission?” the exemplar asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Yes…”

  “I see. You will come with us then to be judged.” Marie’s voice was filled with finality.

  The man gritted his teeth and reached for his weapon. “We… I cannot allow this!”

  “Stand down!” Marie shouted as tense silence settled on both groups. Her warriors had their hands ready on their weapons and were waiting for a signal. Meanwhile, the larger group was overtaken with grim hesitation as they stood behind their leader.

  Aren looked upon this as understanding gripped him. He sighed. “They are ready to die.”

  “What? Why!” A female voice surprised the mage from his side. Crina stood beside him with a worried expression, Donnavan running to catch up to her. Aren looked at her with a question in his eyes.

  “I went out when it seemed safe, but now this,” she explained. “Why are they ready to die?”

  “They want to protect their homes. I am guessing there must be some monster that the city cannot deal with right now,” Aren said. “Still, they do not seem equipped to deal with serious threats. They must have deserted their posts for this.”

  Len opened his mouth hesitantly. “Rain Season is nearing. The city’s garrison must not want to lose soldiers dealing with… lesser threats, Luminous One.”

  “Stand down or I will be forced to kill you,” Marie repeated herself.

  “My wife and daughter need me!” the man cried out, desperation now clear in his voice.

  Crina could not bear it and pushed through the line of guards. “Exemplar Marie, stop this!”

  “Luminous One!” Marie appeared shocked by the sudden appearance of her charge. “Donnavan, what are you doing!”

  “I am sorry, Exemplar,” he apologized, unable to physically restrain the Luminous One.

  The man stared in shock at the addition of a young woman and decided to take his chance. Kneeling down, he begged, “Luminous One, please let us go. We will lay down our lives to try and redirect the monster migration toward the eastern border. We will be executed for desertion anyway, so please let our lives have meaning. I beg of you.”

  Aren was ready to cast defensive spells the second he saw Crina. Despite this, even in his prepared state, he was surprised at the boldness of the young woman. He smiled and stepped through the line of surprised guards as well, then stood a step behind Crina.

  The exemplar seemed lost about what to do, so he spoke, “What kind of monster is it?”

  “It is a worm sand crab and its pack. The reports said it may be… dragon class,” the man said, unsure who the man beside the Luminous One was, his voice cracking.

  Aren could not help but whistle. Worms, being creatures that absorbed fallen dragon essence, were not rare, but one even suspected of being dragon class was a threat to the whole country. Those men were not only risking themselves but the entire nation if their diversion led the monster in the wrong direction.

  “How dare you!” Marie exploded. “You cannot play with a disaster like that!”

  The man cowered but kept looking at the Luminous One with hope fueled desperation. Sweat shone on his dark skin as he kneeled in front of them.

  “Marie, is there nothing we can do for them?” Crina asked, gripping the seams of her white dress, knowing very well what kind of danger such a monster was. “You are strong enough to defeat it, right?”

  “There is a chance, but… I can’t allow it with our situation,” Marie said regretfully. “I would be too busy to help, if something happened during the fight.”

  The exemplar tried to avoid the topic of assassins. Crina looked around, trying to think of something, and her eyes landed on Aren. She stared at the archmage with hope-filled eyes.

  Aren wondered what to do. He was capable of defeating the monster, but not without his full magical might. It would also take longer to reach the Dark Sanctuary if they started taking detours. Still, this was a chance to test something he had been working on for a while and would hide the fact that he was a mage of significant power. He wanted to surprise Leilara with it.

  He played with his tongue as he prepared his words. “Master Exemplar, would it not be wonderful if the Luminous One procured a dragon-class core to build a new city? I may know how to contact someone who would be able to defeat the monster.”

  Everyone stared at him in silence at the ridiculous statement. The exemplar watched him carefully, then took in the group of people who watched them with dread and hope.

  “Luminous One, we should discuss this in private,” she said finally, already knowing there was nothing more she could do from the look her charge gave her.

  A group of over forty warriors and priests stood on sand, their faces hardened as they watched a monster crash through giant dunes like an adult through sandcastles. A giant cloud of sand and dust rose in its wake as its many legs struck the ground with deafening noise at astonishing speed.

  Many smaller monsters of varying sizes followed it, some the size of a small building, while others were as tall as a hundred-year-old oak tree. Their leader was like a small mountain, its legs thick as pillars and covered in bright, sand-colored chitin. Its claws gleamed sharply in the noon sun.

  The sand shook below their feet despite being far from the gigantic sand crab. Aren stood in black armor that hid his features completely, his mantle converted into ultimate defense with the help of six-circle wizardry and enhanced with a seven-circle barrier that connected to his soul in case an attack landed on him. A large black sword, radiating dark aura, rested in his hands, resembling what some life-force practitioners could cultivate.

  His whole body brimmed with power as he used seven-circle enhancement on his entire biology. His blood carried magic particles that circulated the spell to the smallest parts of his cells. His focus sharpened like the edge of his blade, instincts flooding him from his spell.

  Aren felt the reservoir of his mana emptying just from standing and knew that he could only maintain this state for less than twenty minutes once he started fighting. It had taken them three days to get here, and he kind of regretted his choice to support this idea. Still, he could not ask for a better field test than this.

  “Ehm, Mister Dolt,” Crina called out to him, the exemplar standing by her side. “Will you be okay?”

  “I will be fine,” his voice, altered by magic, echoed in the air, deep and strong.

  The made-up persona for Dolt, who owed a favor to Ren, was whimsy at best, but he made it up on the spot. Another clay clone of him watched from a distance, along with the four adventurers and a group of stage-three and above warriors who would finish off the remaining beasts. He enhanced it with a five-circle lightning spell and a stored reservoir of energy. It would use its magic like a hammer against the monsters.

  “I will deal with it quickly,” Aren said. “I have other things to do.”

  Then he was gone, sprinting toward the approaching monster. With a few steps, he broke the sound barrier. It felt like breaking through a steel wall and breathing in thick soup, his spell already working overtime to accommodate his lungs. A shock wave tore through the sand around him, turning it into dust.

  His sword rose, and with another step he was on the monster, still unnoticed. With the full power of his enhanced body, he swung his arm, his blade colliding with the base of the monster's large claw. Sparks flew as he felt the hard carapace crack under his might, his mana flooding his system to keep up. With a push, the heavy limb separated from the body, and a cloud of dust rose into the air as it landed in the sand, Aren stepping next to it.

  The monster stopped in place, seemingly in shock at the sudden loss of its limb. Aren, using the distraction, grabbed the monster's fallen limb, his grip penetrating the thick carapace. Raising his arm, he slapped the monster with full force, lifting it into the air as its legs scrambled for the ground. As it fell, it crushed many of its brethren under its titanic body.

  That seemed to wake the beast, as he felt magic gathering below him. A flow of elemental sorcery turned the sand beneath him into a death trap that tried to envelop him. Aren scoffed at the crude magic and stepped on the ground, sending a pulse of sympathetic magic that destroyed the spell beneath him.

  He pushed off the ground and swung his sword at the monster’s legs. A thick barrier of hardened sand appeared in front of him, but he did not stop as he crashed through it, the anti-magical edge of his sword stripping the sand of its power. With a slash of his long blade, he cut through three legs of the crab, hindering its mobility.

  A claw swung at him at sound speed, and he blocked it with his arms. His barrier held, but he felt his mana flood into the spell. He dodged as a spray of pressurized sand flew at him. He turned to run, and the attack followed, cutting into the sand behind him and instantly melting it from the pure friction it produced.

  A claw swiped at him again, and he used magic to step onto the air, letting the attack pass below him. Landing on the limb once it stopped, he ran up and swung his sword to cut it off. This time, the sand that blocked his blow was much thicker, and his blade stopped halfway. Spinning bullets of glassified sand formed around him and battered his armor as he swung his blade again, this time removing the second claw.

  The monster, without its main limbs, seemed to screech in an unnatural sound. The sand below it tried to engulf it as it planned its escape. A storm of sand enveloped him, restraining his vision and movement. The wind was strong enough that even his enhanced body was unable to move properly. From the outside, the tornado of sand blocked the entire horizon.

  Aren’s blade grew in size as he pushed mana into it. He spun, and a wave of dark purple energy cut at the strings of magic that he sensed, the storm subsiding as the monster momentarily lost control over the sand. Aren did not wait for the beast to dig itself out and stepped beside it, swinging his sword into it. Then, not letting it gather itself, he attacked relentlessly, cutting off leg after leg.

  Finally, the monster was reduced to just two legs as it tried to balance itself and kept failing. It began to glow in a desperate attack. In the air, hundreds of glowing, spinning bullets surrounded Aren, projectiles the monster had prepared while he landed blow after blow.

  “You think you were stealthy!?” Aren shouted full of adrenaline and contempt for the beast.

  The projectiles flew true and threatened to batter him into oblivion, but before they could, Aren slammed his sword through the carapace and into the monster’s overgrown ganglia that brimmed with its magic. He felt the monster’s gargantuan reservoir of power oppose him with pure force, but his magic turned into tendrils that he controlled with artisan precision. Slipping through the monster defenses, they enveloped the monster’s nerve cells and cut them into ribbons.

  The monster’s magic faltered, and the bullets, now powered by simple physics, battered his barrier harmlessly. Then his magic destroyed the rest of what remained of the creature’s brain, and it fell to the ground, dead.

  Aren stood on top of its shell and watched the battle that took place in the distance. The warriors were winning against the smaller crabs, especially now that they were thrown into disarray once their leader was dead, feeling fear through their primal instincts.

  He saw Mar’tei freezing a sand crab whole as Bar’tik held it down. Lan precisely stabbed into another crab’s joints, Wes contesting with its claws. His clone fried the monster’s nervous systems with his magic.

  With that, the mission of Dolt, who would be known as the Black Knight to the villagers he saved, was complete, and he disappeared. Once the battle was over, he swapped places with his clone and stored it.

  He sat down on one of the smaller dead crabs. He was feeling tired, with over half of his mana reserves gone. The spell had used more energy than he had predicted, especially when he tried to reproduce the amount of force he knew Leilara was capable of. He would need to continue refining it.

  “Thank you!” Crina’s sweet voice resounded as she passed him a flask of water. She smiled thankfully at him, her ashen eyes shining with happiness.

  He took it and drank, feeling better.