Gasps snapped through the camp. People scrambled back, eyes locked on the massive form curled within the cart's restraints. Its stone-plated hide, cracked and broken from the journey, was shifting—regrowing. Too fast.
A guttural groan vibrated from its core, deep enough to rattle bone. Its maw cracked open, jagged teeth glinting in the firelight.
Ash's hand darted to his blade.
He stepped forward, unhurried, reaching into his pouch. His expression was unreadable, his grip steady.
The worm's mouth yawned wide.
Max's arm snapped forward—
Glass shattered against flesh.
A muffled crack, a jolt that rippled through the beast's body. Its groan cut off, muscles locking, then slumping. Stone plates settled, its monstrous form growing still once more.
The tension snapped like a rope cut loose.
"Hah! Never doubted him!"
Laughter rippled through the group, thin but real. For the first time in days, hope flared.
Ash let out a breath, stepping toward Max.
"That was kind of cool,"
he said, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Max didn't smile. Didn't react. Just stared ahead, shoulders stiff beneath the weight pressing down on them.
"Look... I know things aren't going the way you planned, but you got us this far."
Max stood still, the firelight painting shadows across his face. Then, finally, a breath.
Max turned to him, eyes dark, unreadable.
"I have a plan already for this."
Max exhaled, slow. Then, the words came, quiet but sharp, sinking deep.
"But it requires your sacrifice."
His lips curled into a smirk.
"Oh, wait... you mean my speed."
Max gave a single nod, his gaze distant, fixed beyond the firelight.
"I don't know how far this journey stretches,"
"but I know it has an end."
Ash followed his brother's stare to the horizon—a sea of shifting dunes, cold under the night's watchful eye. The wind cut through the silence, whispering through the sand like the voices of the lost.
Max's voice came low, steady.
"I won't force you. This has to be your choice. But we need to know how far it really is."
Ash turned to him, a grin flashing through the shadows.
"What are you talking about? You're my brother. You think I wouldn't do this for you?"
"The last thing I want is to watch you and Kael die out here."
For the first time in what felt like days, something in Max's expression eased. A flicker of relief, brief as a dying ember. Then, a ghost of a smile.
"Same here. I just want to get both of you out of this alive."
Ash clapped him on the shoulder.
"Then stop worrying. So my job is just to run ahead and find the way out?"
"But first... the old man wants to talk to you."
Ash raised an eyebrow.
They both moved through the camp, stepping over bodies curled near dying fires. The stench of sweat, dust, and fading hope clung to the air.
By the central fire, Kael and Mark sat hunched over, their faces hollow in the flickering glow. Kael spotted them first, grinning.
He leaned back, stretching.
"See? Nothing to worry about. Ash is useful."
Ash's eyes flicked to him.
Mark—the old man, turned. His gaze lingered on Ash, measuring. Then, after a long pause, he gave a single nod.
"So you're really going."
Ash met his stare and held it.
Mark studied him for a beat longer before speaking.
His voice was calm, but something heavy pressed beneath it.
A hesitation. Then, softer,
"If you reach the end... bring back whatever food you can."
Ash's jaw tightened. His gaze slid to Max.
"Ash won't be able to carry enough."
His fingers curled slightly over his knee.
"But if nothing else... bring something for the children."
The fire crackled between them. The weight of the words settled, unshaken by the wind.
Kael stretched his arms above his head.
"At least water won't be a problem. We've got enough ice users for that."
Ash forced a small smile.
"I'll bring as much as I can."
Max's hand found his shoulder. The grip was firm. He didn't let go.
Max's fingers tightened. His expression was unreadable, carved from stone.
"If the end of Sandworm Valley is more than a day away..."
His voice dropped, a blade beneath the words.
"...don't come back."
The wind howled through the dunes, carrying whispers only the desert could understand.
Ash stood still. The fire cast long shadows over his face, his eyes unreadable.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Guess I should get going then."
Max didn't speak. Just nodded back.
Ash turned toward the edge of the caravan. The weary watched him pass—some with hope, others with quiet doubt.
His pulse steadied. His breath evened.
The desert stretched ahead, vast and endless.
"[Activating Skill: Phantom's Stride]"
Ash vanished into the night.
Cold Wind howled past his ears, a violent scream lost to the night. His body cut through the desert like a phantom, feet barely kissing the sand before vanishing again. The world blurred—streaks of gold and black swallowed in motion. Each step sent ripples through the dunes, but he was gone before they could swallow him.
The journey should've taken hours. Ash carved through it in minutes.
Breath steady. Body light. Mind sharp.
The desert stretched ahead, endless, merciless. Then—movement.
Sand twisted unnaturally, shifting like water disturbed from below. Ash's gaze snapped to the horizon. Dark forms slithered beneath the dunes, massive shadows barely outlined under the cold starlight.
They didn't lunge. Didn't attack. They can't. Ash was too fast for them to see.
'Are they're following us?. No... they seem to be waiting.'
A shape reared from the depths—armor-plated, ridged with scars, shifting as if reforging itself. The air trembled with a low, guttural rumble.
Another worm surfaced ahead, its serpentine body carving through the dunes. Then another.
'just how many are here?'
His muscles tensed. Doesn't matter. He wove through the shifting sands, each stride carrying him forward before the ground collapsed in his wake. The moon stretched his shadow long and thin, flickering across the desert.
No dunes. No shifting sand. Just an endless stretch of flat, lifeless wasteland.
Ash's steps slowed. His breath came steady, but his pulse pounded in his ears. The sandworms didn't follow. They lingered at the edge, bodies coiled beneath the surface.
Something held them back.
Ash took a step forward. The ground was different. Firmer. Colder.
'What the hell is this place?'
And more importantly—
'Is this the end of Sandworm Valley?'