An hour later, and the elven ship had arrived. Matteos waved as he hopped over the side with the rest, and Nic waved back, sitting on the edge of the sphinx’s head and chewing a poison fruit. They had come for the weapon. The nuclear fire.

You have discovered

Lore Fragment of the Scales of Sand

200 Essence Awarded

Together, four Lore Fragments combine to seal the powers of the Guardian ‘Chimeric Soul-Drinker'

The System message chimed through Nic’s skull, but he brushed it away. He’d come to understand the System’s stories were just that- stories layered over the real corpses and final messages of people like Anet-Mu. Maybe there was some element of truth to them, but they were distortions, ways to turn the memory of the System’s victims into part of the game.

Anet-Mu had refused that fate. Nic had no idea how the old priest had woven such a powerful spell, but he could see its influence now. Everything the System planned was going subtly off track.

And it all culminated in the weapon being hauled out of the buried chamber beneath the sphinx.

Elves pulled on ropes, setting smooth-cut logs underneath the body of the strange missile to roll it over as they pulled it up out of the tomb’s stairwell. The smooth, oblong egg of metal radiated a skin-prickling aura of terror, one that set Nic’s teeth on edge.

It was if it was waiting to be used. As if the destruction inside couldn’t wait to pour out, and made the very air tremble with the omens of the war to come.

It was strange. He’d thought the Natives were soft. Most of them seemed unprepared entirely to fight for survival.

And yet they’d somehow made a weapon like this.

But maybe with these kinds of weapons, there was no fighting left. Just annihilation.

As Matteos emerged from below, his elven comrades were glaring daggers into his back. The giant had an enormous bronze axe slung over one shoulder now- clearly he’d been the lucky one to inherit one of the eight legacies waiting below. If Nic had to guess-

It was the scarred warrior’s gift. While the man’s face had been brutally covered in wounds, and his frame had been giant with muscle, there had been no sense of violence from his grave. A calm, steady-as-a-rock aura had lingered instead, and that seemed to suit Matteos’ gentle soul.

As he watched they pulled the nuclear weapon aboard the ship, Sula hopped up alongside him. “So…” She asked. “How you feeling about the treasure split?”

“Definitely wondering how much that weapon is worth.”

“Whatever the money is, the trouble is worse.” But she shrugged. Slung over her back was a pair of enormous, broad bones, each so pale and delicately see-through they looked like crystal, and bound together by a strip of leather.

He’d never seen her take anything out of it, but Nic suspected Sula had an extradimensional space like his bag somewhere. He was guessing it was one of the pendants that hung around her neck.

“Here.” She swung the bones into his arm. “The bones of an immature city-beast. D-Class, although, nothing special besides how hard and tough they are. Figure you can do something interesting with them.”

Nic grinned broadly. Even if they didn’t have any special properties, D-Class materials could hold more runes, more Essence. They would be able to last him for ages, even if he ranked up again.

Not to mention the prospect of summoning a leviathan city-beast’s echo.

“Yeah, I’m happy with that.” Nic admitted, running his fingers down the crystallized bones. “So, are your people headed back home after this? Going to keep fighting your mother’s fight?”

“That’s always been the plan. Here.” She reached into her pocket and took out the little pouch of tobacco and rolling papers. With a flick of her wrist she tossed it into his hands. “This one ain’t payment, just- you’re an alright kid, Nic. Remember us.”

It felt like more than the normal goodbye.

“I’m guessing somebody has to stay behind and light this weapon up?”

“Yeah. Yeah, so it goes.” The edge of her mouth quirked up in a small, sad grin.

And then she jumped from the edge of the sphinx, a vine of ice unfolding underfoot to carry her down to the ship. Matteos and the rest clambered aboard. A wind-caller whistled and made the sails billow out, full of a strong breeze.

The ship lifted up and billowing sand spewed out in its wake as it set off for the far horizon.

Nic finished eating his fruit, tucking the seeds into a leaf. “Sofia?”

“Yes Nicolas, I’m here. I wonder if you did the right thing, giving such a terrible weapon away.”

Nic paused.

He hadn’t entirely trusted Sula, right through the end. He’d kept the Lakash rune in reserve, waiting.

“Honestly? That thing’s evil. I don’t think having it anywhere near us is a good idea.”

“I have to agree. What’s next on our agenda?”

“My warform will still take more time to charge up. I think I need to head back to the Oasis, work on arming myself up, do some hunting. Tomorrow we’ll wipe out the sand devils- and then we’ll see about heading up to the islands in the sky.”

Slipping down onto the hot sands, Nic conjured a platform to ride on. The sands blurred past, the wind turning to a roar, the red towers and strange warped arches of desert stone flicking by one all sides as he skirted the edge of the Valley of Memories.

As he slipped through the wall of high dunes that surrounded the oasis, something flickered in the distance. A familiar streak of orange chased by dozens of flame and wind sylphs was racing across the dunes.

Nic grinned.

Twisting his course aside, Nic shot after the djinn. The sand turned to a vast blur of red underfoot as he accelerated forward. There was no comparison to the last time they’d raced. Nic’s Essence was more compressed, more pure, rotating in his core with a massive pressure that spread through his veins and empowered the Sandrider Blade to send him rushing forward with a speed that bordered on lunatic.

The djinn turned, saw him, and instantly split into six doubles. There was no playing around this time. With Nic bearing down like a speed demon, the spirit activated his skill and fled in all directions.

But the sylphs only followed one.

Nic grinned and put on a second burst of speed, feeling the aura rush through his body and swirl in the air around him like a stormfront. The djinn was faltering, not nearly as fast, its one trick having failed.

But speed wasn’t the only thing that mattered.

It shot for an outcropping of stone that lifted up into the air and twisted back down into red rock loops. Without hesitation, born on the swirling column of wind that replaced its legs, the djinn shot up one enormous stone arches and leapt to another, racing overhead.

Nic didn’t hesitate to follow. He was leaping, crashing down, each jump turbulent and rocky compared to the smooth movement of the djinn. As they leapt from one stone pillar to the next he was still gaining, just slower- but there was only so far the outcropping extended. Any moment now the djinn would be forced back to solid ground, where Nic held the unchallenged advantage.

But now, all five of the duplicate djinn had come back. They had turned course, ceasing to flee, and were rushing beneath the stone archways, following the race from below.

As Nic and the djinn’s true body dropped down onto the sands, the duplicates lunged at Nic. One by one they burst open into billowing clouds of sand, and for a moment, Nic was blinded. His sandboard tripped against the rocks and he stumbled, falling. Sand filled his mouth and he spat it out in a fury.

As the dust cleared the djinn had opened up the distance again.

But Nic had enough of playing. As he kicked off again, building speed to match his anger, Inkspur leapt up onto his shoulder. “Yessss. It is my time to SHINE!”

Extending his wings the little wyvern prepared to be launched, Nic cupping him in his hand and drawing back like a champion thrower about to let a spear fly. The Internal-Sacrifice Cauldron blazed in his chest, and with a roar Nic flung his living missile across the sands in a winged blur.

In the distance, Inkspur sprayed out his namesake ink across the djinn’s face, and soared up into the sky, calling out triumphant insults.

“Oven-roasted IDIOT! Son of a stove! Your mother was a CHARCOAL BRICK and your father was an ash imp!”

As the djinn reeled, clutching its face, Nic lifted his hand and a wall of sand erupted in front of his target. The blinded djinn slammed into the dune, and the impact sent it rolling across the ground, coughing, stunned.

Nic was on top of his quarry in a second. Leaping off the sandboard, he grabbed hold of the djinn’s arm before it could rise and flee. A System notification chimed in his head, declaring the quest to ‘Catch the Wind’ complete.

The man - it was a man, with a bald head crowned by six short obsidian horns and a handsome, bearded face - coughed up sand. “That was… a dirty trick…”

And then he grinned, bits of grit still clinging to his smile and beard.

“I love it.”

Rising to his full height, the swirling vortex of smoky orange energy that replaced the djinn’s body below the navel solidified into a pair of legs. He had a broad and powerfully muscular frame of bronze-red skin, dressed in billowing, loose pants and a simple jacket of horsehide stitched with gold, his fingers decorated with rings. A scimitar hung by an embroidered blue belt at his hip.

“My name is hard for mortal tongues to pronounce, but translates to Last Hint of Sunlight That Still Remembers the Heights of Forgotten Empires. You may call me Sunny.” He dusted himself off with a dignified air. “As you have caught me, I am to offer you a single wish.”

“Ultimate power?” Nic immediately asked. “I wish for ultimate power.”

“Ah ah.” The djinn wagged a finger. “There are three wishes I can grant. The first is the wish of knowledge, for I am full of the secrets of this land, so often forgotten. The second, the wish of vengeance against one enemy you name. Finally, if you wish it, I will save your life one time.”

Nic paused. “Vengeance, huh?”

“I cannot kill them. The System has forbidden me to do this. Just as it has bound me to wander these wastes forever.”

“Well that’s a pretty weak vengeance.” Nic complained. “Why are you bound here?”

“Is that a wish for knowledge?” The djinn raised an eyebrow.

“No, no.” Nic stopped himself. “I’m guessing knowledge would help me wrangle treasure out of this place, but- I think I’ve got to go with saving my life.”

The djinn smiled. “So be it. In your time of need, I will be there.” There was a snap of his fingers, and the djinn dissolved into red-orange energy, flickering away over the dunes. Left behind was a floating wisp of golden energy that poured into Nic’s hand and solidified into shape as an amulet of bronze, shaped like a turtle shell with tiny fragments of lapis lazuli pieced together like a mosaic across its back.

Nic smiled.

He slipped the amulet over his neck, joining his scarf and his pendant of alligator’s teeth.

And he headed onwards, towards the oasis.

---

By the time Nic arrived, his cultivation base was almost full again. It felt like a sea of golden energy roaring within, waiting to be used, and warmed his entire body with a gentle heat. As he arrived at the edges of the cool waters, he couldn’t wait to dive in and soothe the ache of the burning desert sun on his back.

But first, he drew the Seal of the Wreckrunner from his bag.

He had a few things he needed to buy from Old Ben.