Mirian stalked the sands, her camouflage skill blending her seamlessly into the endless golden backdrop. She glanced at the others: Lome and the other warriors and hunters had spread out into a loose formation. Gorath, bound by chains, was being aggressively pulled by one of the warriors.

Taking in her surroundings, her focus was razor-sharp. It was hot, unbearably so, but something about this searing environment felt oddly familiar, like... home. The sand, the heat, the expansive blue skies. However, when she tried to pry into her memories, she was met with an impenetrable fog. It wasn’t troubling; her sole focus was to win glory for her Lord.

With that singular thought in place, it was time to act. Up ahead, she spotted a hunter orc cresting a dune, his head peeking over. Her Lord had instructed her not to act alone, so she waited. The orc signalled to another. Mirian followed his gestures and spotted another orc on a nearby dune, then another, and another until she counted at least six hunters. It was a sizable force, likely thinking they had captured their comrade, Gorath, from the previous day. They launched their attack.

The orc next to Mirian dashed down the dune, his war cry echoing across the sands. Warriors emerged from beneath the sand, four of them, their bells ringing out. One in particular was almost double the size of the others, wielding a large curved blade made of scrap metal and bone. Mirian frowned at the sight of the large, tusked humanoid.

Lome reacted swiftly, ordering the archers to fire. The command to kill rang out. As warriors and hunters clashed in a frenzy of metal and flesh, Mirian waited for her moment. Lome screamed, his two-handed axe cleaving into an orc, splashing blood against the sand.

Just as all the orcs arrived, it was Gorath’s time to shine. Mirian’s eyes widened in shock.

Gorath grunted, and electric tendrils whipped out of his palms. They wrapped around Lome and the war tortoise, before lashing out at the attacking orcs. Four of them were vaporised in an instant, turning to ash. Her Lord had mentioned that mages were rare, and his words proved true.

The thrumming electricity continued, slamming into the tallest orc, branding his flesh red and bloodied. He stumbled backward, blood spilling from his mouth.

Lome pressed the advantage. Mounted on the surprisingly nimble war tortoise, he cleaved his axe into another orc, slicing him from shoulder to waist.

The enemy leader roared, and even from her hidden vantage point, Mirian felt her body freeze. She couldn’t move, couldn’t fathom how those closer were faring. Two of the weaker hunters fell to the sand, spasming. Whatever skill the leader had used, it was potent.

Mirian felt the restriction lift, likely due to the distance. She poised herself, ready to strike. Questions darted through her mind. What if this was the Lord? In one swift movement, she could end his reign. But she hesitated. Her Lord’s words pressed against her mind, forceful and unwavering. If she was wrong, she would reveal herself as an assassin.

She spotted a scout in the distance. Just as her Lord had wanted her to remain out of sight and relay information, she trusted him and held back.

The leader, instead of fighting to the death, fled. An orc warrior tried to join him, but the leader clasped his skull and threw him back to Lome, who cleaved him in half. Blood showered him and the tortoise.

An arrow followed, slicing past the leader's calf but doing little to stop him. The Lord’s warriors wanted to chase, fueled by their desire for glory. But Lome ordered them back. Mirian approved. Chasing into the sands was a horrible call. The reason became clear in the next moment.

The ground trembled. Mirian had to hold herself as the sand shifted, sending her sliding down the dune. She scrambled back up, witnessing a staggering sight.

The ground opened up as the orc leader sprinted into the open sands. Mirian noticed he didn’t have a bell. He realised it too, but it was too late. A distant mountain shattered like an avalanche of rock and sand. Emerging from the explosion of earth was a gargantuan worm. It slammed into the ground, disappearing, then reemerged beneath the orc leader. The worm's maw opened and swallowed the orc chieftain whole. Compared to the colossus, he was a mere speck. His screams vanished in an instant. The sand settled as the worm disappeared into the distance.

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Mirian came to her senses. Her heart thrashed in her chest. The orc's skill had halted her, but laying eyes on that worm made her realise how insignificant her powers were.

She noticed the orc scout retreat. Mirian allowed him to go.

***

Owen Pov.

Morning arrived, and the apocalyptic wave of sand had settled back down. Owen and his team rushed along the desert. He hoped Lome and the others were successful but couldn’t worry about them now. Today would prove one of the most important days. Today, the orcs would weaken, his units would strengthen, and they’d obtain vital information needed to beat the orcs. It was all or nothing, his panicked heart was a reminder of that.

As they hiked up a dune, Owen saw Rehan grin. In one swift motion, he unsheathed his blade and increased his speed. He rounded the dune, and by the time Owen caught up, an orc lay dead on the ground, throat cut open. Blood spurting from the wound and clumping the sand.

Another orc was running to position, his eyes widened, and he snarled. Draed in the distance loaded up his bow, concentrated, then fired. Mana swirled across his arrow and it pierced the air, boring a hole straight through the orcen scout.

From the notifications, Draed and Cedric had now killed 2. Rehan had killed 1. That was 3 scouts gone in the matter of seconds.

Reconvening together, Owen stored all the corpses, and gave each member a bell of their own. Travelling down the dune, towards the open sands, Rehan was the first to break the silence.

“You’ve surprised me, Lord.”

Owen scanned the horizon, then said, “How so?”

“When I first arrived, I thought you’d be someone to cower behind his walls and make his warriors fight all his battles. You were scared. I could see it. It’s clear I was mistaken. This plan… It’s risky, but a good one if it succeeds.”

“Scared?” Owen scoffed. “I’m terrified. And that’s if it succeeds,” Owen said, sweat dripping down his back, soaking his tattered shirt. His tender and burning skin revealed underneath. “For all I know, the orc could well have the same plan I’ve had. They could be laying in wait with an army in the south for all I know.”

“Trust in us, my Lord,” Draed added with his bow knocked. “They’ll succeed in their mission.”

“I admit,” Owen chuckled. “Seeing the flames behind Lome’s eyes is a reassuring sight, isn’t it?”

Rehan laughed. “That’s one way to explain it. The undead… I wouldn’t want to experience one with a vengeance. They say they can hold grudges for an eternity. I feel sorry for your opponents, whichever may come.”

“It’s not only the undead they have to fear,” Cedric said, walking calmly in the desert.

It took only an hour to arrive at the desert plains. In the distance were the mountains with a canyon split down the middle. It was where Draed had scouted the orcs. However, only now did Owen realise how far it was. If he had to estimate, which was a dangerous thing to do in the desert, then it would take 4 to 5 hours of hiking to reach. Draed had said that the orcs had found various other hiding holes away from the nightly wave.

As Owen took a single step out onto the vast golden plains, he felt something weigh on his shoulders. Fear. An instinctual, raw fear that gnawed his bones. This must be what Draed had experienced before he rightfully fell back.

Rehan also felt it as he crouched down and let the soft sand glide through his fingers. “This whole desert is the monster’s domain. I can feel it. We have entered its hunting ground.”

“And there’s always something bigger,” Owen added. “I wonder what could threaten such a—”

Notifications popped up. Lome had found the orcs. Owen found his nerves taut. Please remain unharmed.

Then, the ground rumbled and all Owen heard was a piercing growl. He whipped around to where Lome and all the others were located. And then he saw it. Crashing over a mountain in the far distance, a gigantic worm smashed into the earth. Owen braced himself not physically, but mentally. He expected everyone to die, for the messages to filter into his mind. He was unable to breath for a moment, but then the worm vanished.

Not one person had died.

Only after what felt like 5 minutes did Owen release his breath. “To think that thing is underneath us.”

“The troops?” Rehan asked, standing up.

“Alive,” Owen said.

“Good,” Replied Rehan. “We better get a move on.”