The army pushed forward through the unforgiving wasteland, the wasteland sun beating down mercilessly. The trek was exhausting, but Major Cromwell kept them moving with relentless discipline. He marched at the front, his face stern and unyielding, a symbol of order in the lawless wasteland. His soldiers followed in lockstep, their crossbows ready, armor clinking softly with each step.

Hours passed, and the terrain grew harsher. The landscape was barren, broken only by the occasional jagged rock or dead, twisted tree. But then, something changed.

"Sir!" a scout called from ahead, his voice carrying a note of surprise. "Oasis, dead ahead!"

Major Cromwell raised a hand, signaling the army to halt. His eyes narrowed as he peered into the distance. Sure enough, there it was—a patch of green in the sea of sand, shimmering like a mirage.

He turned to Oliver, who had been walking silently beside him. "Water and shade. We make camp there."

Oliver nodded, his face relieved but calm. "Good timing. The men could use a rest."

Cromwell gave a curt nod. "Standard procedure. Perimeter guard. No slacking off just because we’ve found a bit of water."

The army moved into the oasis with precision, soldiers spreading out in formation to secure the area. The oasis was small, just a modest pool of clear water surrounded by a few palm trees and patches of greenery, but to the exhausted men, it felt like paradise.

The sergeants barked orders, and the soldiers quickly set up a makeshift camp. A few men filled their canteens, splashing water on their faces, the cool liquid a welcome relief after hours of marching under the scorching sun. Others gathered around the palm trees, resting in the shade but always keeping an eye on their surroundings.

Major Cromwell stood near the water’s edge, surveying the area with a critical eye. Even here, in this temporary reprieve, he couldn’t relax. His mind was already racing ahead, planning the next steps, calculating how best to use this brief stop to their advantage.

Oliver approached him, a thoughtful look on his face. "The men are holding up well, but we should keep an eye out for any signs of trouble. An oasis like this could attract others."

Cromwell grunted in agreement. "I don’t trust it either. We’ll rest, but we’ll stay sharp. I want patrols around the perimeter every fifteen minutes. If there’s something out there, we’ll see it before it sees us."

He turned to his sergeants, barking orders. "No fires. Keep it quiet. I don’t want to advertise our position. This oasis may be a gift, but we’ll treat it like a trap. Understood?"

The sergeants nodded, moving to relay the orders to the men.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the oasis, the army settled in for the night. Major Cromwell remained standing, his back straight and his eyes scanning the horizon. Even in this moment of respite, he couldn’t shake the feeling that danger was lurking just beyond the edge of the oasis, waiting for the right moment to strike.

As the night fell and the soldiers began to relax, a faint, eerie sound broke through the stillness of the oasis—howls, low and guttural, echoing from the darkness of the wasteland.

Major Cromwell’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "Sergeant!" he barked. "Report!"

A sergeant came running, his face pale. "Sir, we’ve spotted movement on the perimeter. Multiple targets, closing in fast. Demon dogs, sir."

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Cromwell’s jaw tightened. Of course, they’d been watched. A group this size, setting up camp in the open, was too tempting for the wasteland predators to pass up.

"Get the demon dog wards active!" Cromwell ordered. "Perimeter defense now!"

The soldiers sprang into action, moving with the precision they’d drilled endlessly. Portable wards, small devices that emitted a high-pitched frequency combined with a large mana dome, were activated around the camp. To get the demon dog wards to protect such a large group they had linked several of them into a circular chain. They formed a protective barrier against the demon dogs—savage creatures that prowled the wasteland, their black, oily skin blending into the night, eyes glowing a malevolent red.

The howls grew louder, the demon dogs circling just outside the warded area, their teeth bared, snarling and growling as they tested the boundaries of the protective field. One of the creatures lunged forward, but the moment it came into contact with the ward’s mana barrier, it recoiled with a screech, its flesh sizzling and smoking.

“Keep your eyes peeled!" Cromwell shouted, his voice cutting through the growing panic. "They can’t get through as long as the wards hold!"

The soldiers tightened their grips on the crossbows, their eyes darting nervously toward the shadows where the demon dogs prowled. Their crossbows were ready, but they knew the creatures would only attack if the wards failed. Some were tempted to fire them, but their discipline held. For now, they were safe, but the tension was filling their souls.

Oliver stood next to Cromwell, his face grim as he watched the swirling mass of red eyes and dark fur outside the barrier. "Those things won’t leave easily," he muttered. "We’re boxed in here."

"Let them try," Cromwell said, his voice cold. "We’re not some band of wasteland scavengers. We’ll outlast them."

The demon dogs, frustrated by the wards, howled and snapped at the edges of the barrier, their hunger driving them mad. One of them, larger than the rest, stepped forward—a monstrous alpha, its muscles rippling under its oily skin. It eyed the soldiers hungrily, pacing just beyond the reach of the ward’s protection, its red eyes locked on Major Cromwell as if it knew who was in charge.

"It’s only a matter of time before they give up," Cromwell said, his tone measured, but even he couldn’t deny the weight of the alpha’s gaze. It felt like a challenge, a silent promise that the demon dogs would return.

"Keep those wards safe," Cromwell commanded. "No one gets comfortable until these mutts are gone."

***

Hours passed, and the demon dogs continued their relentless circling, but they couldn’t breach the protective barrier. The soldiers, though exhausted, held their ground, their eyes never straying from the pack just beyond their reach. They took turns resting in the hastily raised tents.

Finally, as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, the howling began to die down. The demon dogs, weary and frustrated, retreated into the wasteland, disappearing back into the shadows from which they’d come.

Cromwell exhaled, his posture relaxing only slightly. "Pack it up," he said. "We move out as soon as the sun’s up."

As the soldiers dismantled the camp and readied for the next leg of their journey, Major Cromwell glanced one last time at the horizon, where the alpha had vanished. He didn’t like it. The wasteland had thrown its worst at them tonight, but something told him the real challenge was still waiting up ahead.

As the first rays of sunlight streamed over the wasteland, the soldiers marched forward, their steps heavy with exhaustion after a sleepless night. The occasional grumble or murmur rippled through the ranks, but for the most part, they marched in silence, conserving their energy.

"I can't wait to hit that other settlement," one soldier muttered under his breath, his eyes bloodshot. "Get some real rest. Maybe even proper rations."

A nearby soldier, his helmet tilted slightly forward as if it weighed a ton, grunted in agreement. "You think they got showers there? I’d kill for a shower, man. Or even a real bed."

"Showers?" another chimed in, his tone teasing. "I’d settle for a cup of coffee that doesn’t taste like burnt sand."

"Keep dreaming, mate," the first soldier chuckled. "We’re lucky if they got anything that isn’t Soylent gruel. Still, beats sleeping with one eye open, waiting for another pack of demon dogs to tear through the camp."

A group of soldiers behind them was having a similar conversation, the optimism in their voices tempered by fatigue. "Think they’ll have more soldiers like us there?" one asked.

"Bet they’ve got proper defenses too," another replied. "Maybe even some vehicles. Could use a break from all this walking."

The soldiers’ laughter was short-lived. A sudden rumble, deep and resonant, shook the ground beneath their feet. The sound was followed by another, then another, growing louder and more insistent with each second.

"What the hell is that?" one soldier said, his voice rising with alarm.