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Of Misclicks and Magic
Blood in the Sand

Blood in the Sand

  I wake up upon Tom attempting to silently shuffle out of his seat in consideration for myself, but fails utterly with how clumsy he is (though I still appreciate the effort). After a wave of apologies crash into me from the young boy, I go to my barrack's bathroom to check my injuries. Looking over my wounds, I can tell that I am not fit for battle right now. Unraveling the bandages on my left arms, the acid burn from the slime is healing but will likely leave scarring. A mark of pride for some, but I can only feel shame towards it. It is just a reminder how pathetic I am, almost dying to a simple slime.

  Overall, my body is quite worn out. Everything aches from the overexertion of yesterday. I am in no state to fight, though I cannot let myself be left in the dust compared to my peers. I am already behind, skipping a day while they all hunt would only serve to widen the gap.

  However, just because I'm not battle-ready right now does not mean I cannot get experience points. There is a certain monster in which hunting is more akin to fishing, juvenile sand worms.

  Sand worms are an introduced species to the island. Native to the deserts in the center of Ozymand, they do not thrive in this damp environment. They usually reserve themselves deep into the inland of the island wherever there is sand or gravel. Despite their sunny native lands, they are adverse to the light. This adversity grows as they reach maturity. Juveniles take advantage of this by hunting in the day to avoid the adults since they will eat anything, even their own. Their sense of smell and vibrations are what they rely on for finding and hunting prey which they usually throw themselves at due to their extreme lack of intelligence. With a shield and weapon, they are like wheat before a sickle. They are an easy, but time-consuming catch.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Requesting a shield from the order's armory, I attained a worn-out wooden round shield (which I can now handle with my new strength, although it is a bit heavy still). Off in the distance, I can spot Tom going off in the forest to hunt as well. He is alone on account of his "weak" personality but he can handle himself just fine.

  Making my way into the wilderness for a few hours, I finally find a clearing covered in sand with rocks and boulders scattered about it. It is silent except for rustling of leaves and a distant storm. Hopefully I can get something before it hits since the worms would retreat deeper underground.

  I hop from rock to rock near the center. From the rock I now stand on, I cut my finger to drip blood onto the sand to attract them. Feeling vibrations in the ground, I ready my shield and stomp on my rock to let my presence be known.

  But then something odd occurs, or moreso terrifying. There is not just one isolated vibration, there are several. It grows to the point that the entire clearing is shaking. I come to the realization, this is a nest.

  These worms form nests with hundreds of eggs. Upon sufficient stimuli like the stench of blood, they all hatch and go into a frenzy, going after both the assumedly injured prey and their siblings. That means I right in the center of a brawl to the death,