Vale stared at his hand for a long moment before slowly reaching for one of his Onyx Blades.

  The weapon felt the same in his grip, its familiar weight, its balance, the faint cold that always clung to its surface. That alone brought him a small sense of relief. At the very least, the blades hadn’t been altered by whatever place they had fallen into. They could still handle most threats.

  Still, a thought lingered in the back of his mind.

  Vale removed one of his gloves and pressed the tip of the blade lightly against his palm. He hesitated for only a heartbeat before dragging the edge across his skin.

  “Hss,”

  He bit down on his lip as blood welled immediately, bright and vivid against his skin. Vale watched the wound intently, waiting for the familiar sensation, the warmth, the subtle pull as flesh knit itself back together.

  Seconds passed.

  Then more.

  A full minute crawled by.

  Nothing happened.

  The cut remained open. The blood continued to trickle.

  Vale let out a frustrated growl and turned away, reaching into his storage device. He pulled out a strip of bandages, wrapped his hand tightly, and slid the glove back on with a sharp tug.

  As he turned, Eskar glanced over from the riverbank.

  “What was that about?” Eskar asked, crouched low as he submerged a canteen into the clear water, letting it fill.

  Vale sighed. August hopped onto his shoulder, cawing softly. Vale absently petted the raven once, his gaze fixed on Eskar.

  “My armor usually heals me,” Vale said. “It’s a relic.”

  Eskar paused, then looked up at him with a curious expression. After a moment, he chuckled quietly.

  “I see,” he said. “That explains a lot.”

  He secured the canteen and continued, his tone shifting to something more serious.

  “I can’t use my abilities properly either. My connection to my plane is almost completely cut off. I can’t release even a single usable flame.”

  Suddenly, his eyes widened slightly, as if a realization had struck him.

  His gaze shifted to the Onyx Blade still in Vale’s hand.

  Then back to Vale.

  “Hey,” Eskar said slowly. “Can you toss me that?”

  Vale glanced down at the blade, sighed, and twisted his wrist so the hilt faced Eskar. Eskar caught it cleanly and turned it over in his hand, studying the weapon with a thoughtful look.

  He closed his eyes.

  For a brief moment, nothing happened.

  Then the blade began to glow.

  A second later, flames surged along its edge, controlled, steady, and brilliant. Eskar opened his eyes, a confident grin spreading across his face.

  “Sweet,” he said.

  The flames faded just as quickly. Eskar handed the blade back.

  “Looks like I just need a medium,” he explained. “A weapon to act as a transmitter. The connection’s weak, but it’s enough.”

  Vale accepted the blade, relief softening his expression. While the discovery didn’t help him directly, knowing Eskar could defend them properly eased a weight he hadn’t fully acknowledged.

  With a small grin, Vale tossed the blade back toward Eskar instead.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Eskar blinked, catching it out of reflex. “You sure?” he asked. “It’s your blade.”

  Vale waved him off and walked closer to the water’s edge. The surface reflected his armor clearly, but, as always, his face was missing. Just an empty distortion where his features should have been.

  He sighed.

  “Yeah,” Vale said. “I’ve got two. You should at least have one.”

  He rested a hand on his hip, hesitating before speaking again.

  “Hey… do you have any food on you?”

  Eskar nodded slowly. “Yeah. But even if we ration it, it’ll last maybe two days.”

  Vale grimaced. “Same here. I only brought lunch and dinner. Split between the two of us, that’s barely a day.”

  He turned back toward Eskar, noticing the canteen was still filling.

  “How much does that thing hold?” Vale asked.

  Eskar thought for a moment. “It uses spatial tech instead of a plane connection. Around a hundred liters.”

  Vale’s eyes widened slightly.

  Water, at least, wasn’t an immediate concern.

  A faint smile formed on his lips. He let out a sharp whistle and started toward a nearby dune.

  “I’ll scout the area,” he said.

  Hurricane and Illu took off at once, circling above him before settling near his shoulders. Eskar waved him off and returned to securing the supplies.

  Vale climbed the dune, boots sinking into warm sand. At the top, he dropped into a low crouch and scanned the horizon.

  That’s when he saw it.

  A faint disturbance, a thin trail of sand drifting unnaturally, not carried by the wind. It moved with intent.

  Vale narrowed his eyes.

  The sand beneath the trail shifted in rhythm, rising and falling as if something massive were moving just below the surface.

  “…What is that?” he murmured.

  The movement stopped.

  Then, without warning, the sand exploded upward.

  Something began to rise from beneath.

  Vale squeezed his eyes shut as the wind shifted, sand lashing against his face and forcing its way beneath his lashes. Grit scraped across his skin, stinging sharply. He turned his head slightly, bracing himself, then opened his eyes again.

  His breath caught.

  A massive scorpion was rising from the sand.

  Calling it large would have been an insult to the creature. It towered over the dunes, its obsidian-black carapace reflecting the sun in dull, jagged facets. The thing stood taller than most children at the crown of its head, and its stinger alone arched high above it, easily three, perhaps four meters tall, casting a long, crooked shadow across the sand.

  Two enormous claws framed its body.

  Or rather… they had.

  One of them was gone.

  The limb ended in a shattered stump, dark fluid still dripping onto the sand below. The wound was fresh, too fresh. The creature’s movements were sharp and agitated, its segmented legs digging furrows into the ground as it twisted from side to side.

  Vale’s eyes narrowed.

  'That thing could snap me in half with a single strike.'

  His mind moved quickly, slipping into cold calculation. He assessed its size, its presence, the pressure it exerted on the surrounding atum, what little he could sense without triggering that unbearable pain.

  The conclusion came fast.

  And it was chilling.

  “A Brute Gnaw…” Vale muttered under his breath.

  Second stage aswell as second class.

  A full stage above both him and Eskar.

  Even if they fought together, perfect coordination, no mistakes, they wouldn’t win. Not without suffering severe injuries. Possibly fatal ones.

  Vale remained perfectly still, every muscle tense, his focus sharpening as the scorpion clicked and shifted, clearly searching for whatever had maimed it.

  Then,

  The sand beneath it erupted.

  Something enormous burst upward in a violent explosion of dust and grit. For a split second, the scorpion vanished completely, swallowed by the cloud.

  Vale’s eyes widened.

  From within the storm of sand, a massive wing tore free, broad, jagged, and powerful. Before the scorpion could even react, it was lifted from the ground.

  The desert echoed with a single, shrill scream.

  Then came a sound that made Vale’s stomach twist.

  A sharp, unmistakable crack.

  The scorpion’s carapace shattered.

  Its body went limp in an instant.

  As the sand settled, the victor revealed itself.

  A dragon.

  It was colossal, nearly three times the size of the scorpion, and held the broken corpse firmly in its jaws. Its scales were the same beige tone as the desert itself, rough and uneven like slabs of sandstone, worn and unpolished as if shaped by centuries of grinding through rock and sand.

  Three horn-like protrusions jutted from its head, thick and jagged, resembling broken stone spires. Its wings were short but powerful, clearly not made for long flight. In fact, they seemed almost too small for its body, built not for the sky, but for cutting through the desert itself.

  A burrower.

  Not a flier.

  The dragon exhaled slowly. Sand blasted from its nostrils in a heavy plume, scattering across the dune. Then it turned.

  And looked directly at Vale.

  The world seemed to shrink.

  Vale’s heart slammed against his ribs, each beat louder than the last. His breath grew shallow as seconds stretched into something unbearable. The dragon’s gaze was ancient, heavy, and impossibly calm, as if Vale were no more than another shifting grain in the endless desert.

  'What will it do?'

  The thought repeated endlessly in his mind.

  Neither of them moved.

  Then Hurricane suddenly cried out.

  The raven let out a sharp, defiant caw, wings spreading instinctively.

  “,Hurricane!” Vale hissed, clamping a hand over the bird’s beak instantly. Panic flared through him like ice down his spine.

  'We can’t fight that. Not even close.'

  The dragon held Vale’s gaze a moment longer.

  Then, without warning, it turned away.

  Its massive claws dug into the sand, and in a single, fluid motion, it plunged downward. The desert swallowed it whole. Sand flowed back into place as if nothing had ever been there.

  Silence returned.

  The dunes stretched endlessly once more, empty and still.

  Vale remained crouched for several long seconds, his body rigid. Cold sweat slid down his back beneath his armor. Finally, he stood, exhaling shakily.

  His voice was barely above a whisper.

  “…What the hell is this place?”