Right above Owen, were the troops of orcs Rehan had scouted. Owen took a deep breath, and gave Lome and the others the signal. Owen plundered the entire area above his head, and Cedric did the rest. Sand cascaded downwards, but Owen’s troops blasted upward.

By the time Owen dragged himself up, the fight was already over. Six corpses of orcs lay scattered in the sand, bloodied. The Sand Hounds, immediately aware of the noise, bounded over. Owen’s units engaged them in combat. Arrows flew, steel arced through the air, fur of hounds wafted in the air, and blood spilled. It was chaos, it was battle.

While the others fought, Owen was in charge of helping the Miners to reinforce the tunnel; to dig away the sand. As Owen was busy plundering the sand, stopping it mostly from falling down into the tunnel, he spotted something approaching from underneath the sands.

Owen called over Lome, and together, they protected the Miners. The mysterious beast arrived in only a second, leaping out of the sands right at them like a shark bursting out of the oceans. It was a Dune Prowler. It was aimed right at Lome, fangs bared, claws at the ready.

Lome met it head on. Reinforced by the bones in the desert, along with the evolved Armour of Nerzu, made him an undead tank of destruction. He cleaved his axe into the prowler’s flesh, fire spat along with blood. But the beast was resilient. It took the hit like a champion and returned it with a strike of its own. Its long, thick tail slammed into Lome, sending him sliding backwards.

It gave the beast enough time to bound for Owen. Owen braced himself. Owen may not be fast enough to dodge, but his reflexes were lightning quick. Following the muscle fibres of the beast, he moved before the prowler even jumped. As when it did, Owen was ready. With all the strength in his arms, he wildly cut through the air, blade’s edge slicing into the monster’s neck. Blood spurted. The forward momentum of the hound crashed into Owen, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Lome appeared in a flash, kicking the monster in its abdomen, sending it hurtling limp through the air.

Owen whirled around, turning his attention to the main battle as Lome charged back to join it. There were at least 10 or so Sand Hounds. His people had already killed well over 15. Better yet, there had been no casualties. But that was soon to change.

Four mounds of sand were fast approaching; more Prowlers. Owen yelled out his command, getting his people into a tighter formation. That was a mistake. The moment his troops converged, so did the prowlers.

The hounds completely disappeared, the evidence in the sand gone. Only for them to emerge in the centre, breaking out of the sands and immediately attacking anything in their close vicinity. Two Warriors and One Hunter were instantly smashed into the ground. Another, a prowler stuck its teeth into their shoulder.

Draed and Elena fired their bows simultaneously, killing the beast instantly. Another Warrior quickly pulled back the wounded soldier as the fight raged on.

Gorath summoned the power of lightning, instantly killing one of the prowlers–displaying the might of a rare sorcerer.

Owen got stuck in, hacking and slicing his way through the flesh of hounds and prowlers alike. With a detachment of Warriors and Hunters protecting the tunnel—their emergency escape, Owen killed the last hound and ordered everyone to move forwards. The Warrior who was badly wounded was taken into the tunnels to return home.

Casting a glance over to the dome in the distance, he ordered Rehan and Mirian to scout the nearby dune. If the orcs left the dome, Owen wanted to know about it.

Knowing he’d have a security alarm in the form of Rehan, Owen turned his full undivided attention to the rift. Now that the herd was thinned out, all that remained was around 20 or so more Sand Hounds. Owen moved to take them out.

Draed, Elena and the other archers proved highly effective. Before the rest of the hounds even reached the front-line warriors, 6 had died. And then they met Lome and Shelldon. Both of them working together, they were like a meat grinder.

Owen was also attacking, storing the corpses as they were killed. While he was doing that, he was also keeping his eyes on his surroundings thanks to his keen attention to detail from Devil’s Reflexes. If there were Dune Prowlers approaching, he would know about it. Cedric helped him.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

But as they finished the last of the Sand Hounds, there weren’t any other Prowlers remaining. All that was left was the purple rift standing atop the sands. They neared it, only stopped once they were around 15 metres away from the fragmented purple that looked like shattered hovering glass.

From what Owen knew in the book, to clear it, he had to defeat the last monster. The boss. And as if it was listening to his thoughts, a hulking figure emerged from the depths of the rift, stomping into the sand. It was a hound of massive proportions, like a dire-wolf, but bigger. Armoured scales covered its body, its long, thick tail like that of a prowler, was barbed with spikes like a war-mace. Fluorescent, hungry orange eyes glared at Owen and his people like it was looking down on them. Standing even taller than Shelldon at around 9-feet, Owen found himself breathless staring at the monster.

So this is a Rift Tyrant, Owen thought as his grip tightened around his blade's handle.

Owen glanced at the dome, making certain that the Lord wasn’t coming yet. When he noticed the faint shimmer of the blue dome from being struck, his heart calmed somewhat. He had escaped the wrath of a powerful monster, just to face another in the orcs place.

Despite that, Owen knew that victory here meant everything. 2 days later, and the barrier would fall, and the orc Lord was certain to put everything he had into slaughtering them to the last man or woman.

Owen couldn’t shout here, but he raised his weapon in the air, signalling the attack. The moment his command was given, the archers fired a volley of arrows, sparing no amount of energy as they bombarded the beast. Elena’s arrow, imbued with the power of moonlight, was the first to arrive, slamming into the pelt of the beast. Draed fired a Soul Marking arrow, marking the hound. And then all the other arrows filled the sky. Arrows struck true, embedding themselves into the thick pelt of the Tyrant. But most of them glanced off its armour. Only Draed and Elena dealt damage.

The beast howled. It was so loud that it caused an instant anxiety in the pit of Owen’s stomach. It signalled to everything in the surrounding area that there was a fight here. Owen had to end this fight fast. Thankfully, the Tyrant had the same idea.

Bounding for them, teeth snarling, claws slicing the sand, it arrived like a war dog on the hunt. It leapt up to attack Lome, trying to tear him off from Shelldon’s back. Lome replied by planting his feet on the war tortoise, and swinging his axe in a mad arc at the hound. His axe edge found its mark, slamming into the Tyrant. It struck armour plates, shattering a few, but leaving the hound relatively unharmed. It landed to the side, and bounded for the frontline warriors.

Owen, as the second physically strongest amongst them, was at the front. The hound opened its savage maw wide, and attacked Owen. Owen summoned the Armour of Nerzu, and placed it upon him in a split second, taking it away from Lome. The monster’s fangs clamped across the armour plating. Fire spurted, charring the Tyrant's mouth. Owen didn’t feel any pain at all.

Taking the opportunity, Owen grit his teeth and lunged Shade’s Whisper into the monster's ribs. It glanced through and pierced something. He felt it, heard the awful sound of air escaping from the Tyrant’s wound. It sounded like putting a knife through a tire.

Without having to make a command, his soldiers surrounded the hound and attacked it on all sides. Owen sliced into its flesh for the 4th time now. Fire had taken the beast’s fur as fuel, slowly creeping across its entire body like a blazing parasite.

As Owen was locked in combat, a voice made its way into his ears. It was Rehan’s. “The orcen Lord is on his way!”

Owen spat, and shouted. “End it quickly!”

Rehan and Mirian joined the fray, and together, they continued their assault on the Rift Tyrant. They were doing an amazing job navigating the hounds vicious fangs and claws. But then a mistake was made. The beast swung its tail like a spiked battering ram. It caught a warrior's shield square in the middle, shattering it into fragments. The warrior flew back, blood spurting from his mouth, the sound of his arm snapping ringing out.

Gorath fired a bolt of lightning at the beast. It struck its shoulder, spewing static electricity and smoke.

But the rampaging beast didn’t stop there. A grim red hue shrouded the monster’s tail. Owen’s eyes widened. “Lome, grab the tail, quick!”

Lome listened. He dropped his axe and flung himself at the Tyrant’s tail, tightly hugging it as if his life depended on it. Owen glanced at the nearby dune. The orcs were approaching. He heard the roar of the Lord, saw his red eyes kindle over in blood demanding wrath.

Owen’s heart smashed against his chest so hard he could hear it, could feel it. Could hear the blood running through his body. He needed to end this now.

And so Owen charged the monster, leapt onto its back, and in a maddened state began thrusting his blade into the Tyrant’s flesh. His blade met with its eyes, neck, ears—everything he could get the edge of his blade on. All the while Elena fired moon arrow after arrow into the beast's already wounded body.

Finally, with a final dying whimper, the leader of the Rift fell limp into the sand. Owen, splashed with blood covering his shrouded face and armoured body, stored the corpse right away.

Quest Complete: Clear the Sand Hound Rift—

Owen cancelled the notifications as his eyes fell on the approaching Lord. It was going to be close.