An unkempt man with long grey hair and matching stubble surveyed the land, disregarding Owen. His gaze paused on the fallen soldiers, then on the chained orc.

The man wore a long beige jacket over an armoured leather vest and slim brown trousers. As he turned, his lithe boots flicked up sand, shifting his attention to the tall mountain looming above. He then looked back.

"Lord," Rehan said, his voice calm and cool. "It appears we’ve got a problem."

"We do," Owen admitted. He glanced at Rehan, then at Mirian, then called over Draed and Lome to the wall. "This is Draed and Lome. Generals of the Hunters and Warriors and will brief you on our current predicament."

Draed began filling in the newcomers about the ongoing situation—from the orc threat to the monsters to the nightly tsunami that devoured the desert.

"Infiltration will be difficult considering the open terrain. Even with the bells getting us across, they’ll see us from a mile away. And moving under the guise of nightfall is obviously impossible," Rehan explained, referring to the orc threat. "But taking out their Lord in one swift move would be the best course of action. Anything to stop a full frontal war. I'll need to scout the area thoroughly to find a way in, though. We need to understand their numbers and fighting formations. Gorath will be useful. The valley is where they're located?"

Owen felt relieved. It seemed that Rehan had experience with sieging. His knowledge and expertise would come in vital.

Owen nodded in affirmation. "That's if Gorath is familiar with these orcs. Wrong information may be worse than no information."

Gorath stepped forward. "My lord, if you allow me to question him, I can determine if we share any similarities. Even if he just says one word, if I know the language, I’ll know where we’re at. He has remained silent so far, but we can break him with your permission."

"I can help," Mirian said, drawing her slender dagger.

Owen frowned. "Torture?" he asked, glancing uncomfortably at the orc.

"It's the quickest way," Draed said. "And we don't have much time."

Gritting his teeth, Owen said, "Tomorrow, attempt to glean as much information from him as possible without harming him. Lome, you'll get my armour after I've upgraded it. With Shelldon, we have a formidable force. If they can still beat us, we’ll need another plan. Torturing—" Owen struggled with the concept. Even with the threat of death, he couldn't do it.

"You don't have to be there for it, my Lord," Mirian spoke up, her voice cold as an assassin’s. But Owen shivered under her piercing blue gaze.

"Only as a last resort," Owen finally conceded.

“We have three methods, my Lord,” Rehan said, putting up one finger. “One, we infiltrate and assassinate if those bells can get us across the open sands. If we can’t assassinate because the leader is simply too strong, we can tarnish their supplies instead. Burn their food source, poison their water supply, and destroy their shelter, then clear the Sand Hound Rift, in that order.” He put up another finger. “Two, we rely on guerilla tactics to dwindle their numbers. In the desert, that won’t be easy.” Rehan put up the last finger. “Three, we rely on brute force.” He looked around at the warriors. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea. No offence.”

“None taken,” Owen said with a smile. “Thank you for your input, Rehan. I take it you’ve done this before?”

“It definitely feels like it,” he replied with a shrug.

“But that helps me a lot,” Owen added, then crossed his arms. ”I need time to think.”

While his fighting force remained behind the wall, locked in discussion, Owen excused himself.

Walking a few steps onto the sand, he summoned Shelldon. He didn’t like the idea of him staying so long in his soul. It was comfortable for him, and he was never lonely. But it was better than being outside, right? Then, it was time to upgrade his Armour of Nerzu. Or try to, anyway.

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First, Owen deposited a large section of the Devil Wyrm onto the sand; the middle section. Mirian and Rehan, who hadn’t seen the ability before, widened their eyes in surprise. But that surprise quickly turned to confusion as they witnessed the corpse vanish under their Lord’s spell.

Owen plundered the middle section of the beast and immediately felt the drain on his being. Owen clutched at his heart. Even the increased Vitality he had gained from before wasn’t enough. Sweating, Owen gazed at the notifications in awe.

You have plundered a section of a Devil Wyrm (Elite).

Claimed materials: Summoning Ticket 4x Hunter, Summoning Ticket 5x Warrior, Devil Wyrm Bones x42 (Normal), Devil Wyrm Prime Bone x1 (Normal).

| Stats gained: 10 Strength, 12 Vitality, 8 Dexterity, 8 Magic, 6 Mana.

| Skill gained: Devil’s Reflexes (Epic) – Grants the ability to react with superhuman speed.

Prime Bone, Owen thought in elation. With that, he could evolve his Fragment Armour. But first–

He felt the added stats immediately and the increased strength in his arms wasn’t the only change in his body. Moving his head caused everything to blur, and his hands appeared to have quadrupled the limbs, like he was stuck in an afterimage.

Those with higher stars looked at him as if he were crazy, while those with lower stars showed concern. Ignoring their expressions, Owen knew the new skill was amazing, but it would take time to adjust. As a passive ability, it was always active, making him feel nauseous.

Closing his eyes to steady himself, Owen realised the immense power he was gaining. But the Devil Wyrm was an Elite ranked monster, not easily found. In the Land Between, even the bones were consumed. No creature would leave resources of a powerful beast untouched.

Taking a breather, Owen opened his eyes again to acclimate to his new skill. Then he tore the newly gained tickets. All were 1-star, except for a 2-star Warrior. It appeared his luck had dried out.

However, the main event was evolving his armour, and it was time.

The prime bone of the Devil Wyrm was the middle section of the spine, likely why he received the reflexes skill. To upgrade the armour, it had to be done internally. So, Owen retreated inward, to his soul. It was a strange location, Owen thought. A black beach stretched out before him, leading to a small, gentle tide.

Owen turned red with embarrassment. Compared to Ansel’s vast soul, his was pitiful. Setting aside his inferiority complex, Owen took out the prime bone of the Devil Wyrm from his storage and summoned the Armour of Nerzu.

Without hesitation, Owen followed the procedure he had read about. He pressed the bone against the chest plate, and it sank in like a stick into water. The armour glowed blood-red before settling.

The Armor of Nerzu has evolved.

Fragment: [Evolved Armour of Infernal Nerzu]

| Tier: Elite

| Type: Armour/Clothing

| Description: The Evolved Armour of Infernal Nerzu is a masterpiece reborn through the infernal essence of the Devil Wyrm's Prime Bone. Originally forged by Nerzu the Unyielding to defend his homeland from the Wyrm Monarchs, this armour has now transcended its former limits. Its legendary enchantments have been enhanced, granting the wearer extraordinary strength and endurance. The armour now boasts superior resistance to fire and poison, and it seethes with the fury of hellfire, reflecting its new infernal origins. The once dormant powers of the armour have awakened, making the wearer a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield.

| Runes: Devil’s Bane, Infernal Flame, Enhanced Fire Resistance, Poison Resistance, Demonic Resilience

| Evolution Requirement: Primal essence of a (Champion) ranked monster.

Owen’s mouth dropped in shock as the armour’s appearance transformed. It now shimmered with a dark, metallic sheen interwoven with fiery red veins pulsing like molten lava. Ornate, infernal engravings adorned the plates, depicting epic battles against demonic foes. The beastly appearance of the furs and bones made it truly awe-inspiring.

New Rune: Infernal Flame

| Description: Imbues the wearer’s attacks with hellfire, causing additional burning damage over time to enemies struck.

Additional Rune: Demonic Resilience

| Description: Grants the wearer increased resistance to both physical and magical damage, drawing on the infernal strength of the Devil Wyrm to enhance durability and fortitude.

Owen’s shock turned into childish excitement. Eager to test the new armour, he adorned it with a thought and immediately felt the difference in power. Summoning his kukri, he swung it in the air. Fire trailed from the blade, creating a concentrated blaze. His new reflexes allowed him to catch the move in full detail.

Hell yes, Owen thought. His giddiness cut through his exhaustion like a hot knife through butter, but it didn’t last long, as he snapped back to reality and slumped down into the sand. Draed rushed forth, kneeling down. The others followed, standing worried.

“My Lord,” he said in concern. “Are you okay?”

Owen smiled weakly. “I’m okay. Just that Skill really takes it out of me, that’s all. I’ll be fine after a moment's rest.”

“Humans really are pitiful,” Lome said, as if not realising his words held venom. Owen laughed, knowing Lome didn’t mean it like that.

However, he had time to think. If he was surrounded, that meant the enemy held the number advantage. No leader would stretch their units thin to siege him without the confidence to do so. And the fact that the orc leader was doing so meant only one thing: they were a Lord themselves. Owen just didn’t know where they were their forces were exactly. But that wouldn’t last for long. His new Scout would sniff them out.