“So, uh… can you… speak?” Brock’s voice echoed through the desert, the landscape shaded by the rustling canopy high overhead and the breeze uncomfortably warm on his skin.

In response to his words, it stared at him, unmoving. A single hump adorned its back.

“Speak!” He stepped forward, trying to scare the creature into action. There was still no reply. He may as well have been talking to a statue.

Brock rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing. It had taken him the better half of a day to find the Alpha of this Source’s red region, trekking through tough sands and heated winds, battling various scorpions and reptiles and mammalian assholes. Even a sentient shrub or two, strangely enough. And now, as he stood among a collective of stones and shrubbery, he couldn’t help but regret his trip.

He had found the Alpha, the mutant camel in question standing idly ahead of him, seemingly guarding an oasis of azure water that wafted an immense amount of aura from its surface. But they had been at a ‘stalemate’ for over five minutes.

The beast neither moved, nor reacted, and was seeming unaggressive and unresponsive to his words in their entirety. Hell, it literally hadn’t so much as breathed in the past five minutes. It was perfectly still. And that annoyed Brock to no end.

It wasn’t like he could kill something that had no intent to fight back, monster or not. And in the odd case that the beast was intelligent and playing dumb, he had no idea how to torture information out of a camel.

So, he stood there. Like an idiot.

As though it was mocking him, the camel finally did something, leaning down and plucking a clump of shrubbery from the earth. Its chewing was monstrously loud. Brock licked his dry lips and took a step forward again, once more hoping to elicit a reaction, even if it was just the Alpha running off.

But all that aside, what was even stranger was that the creature didn’t even have a pack. It was just standing there by its lonesome.

…Maybe they realised their leader was a fucking idiot and ran off?

Seeing as the camel did nothing, Brock took another step forward. Then another. The camel looked up and faced him. The man sighed in relief, as the creature reared its head back and finally reacted to his prese-

Spit landed in his eye and Brock screamed, “Ah?! What the Fuck!”

He stumbled back and wiped the fluid from his eye. It was thick and sticky, but blessedly was a harmless substance. His eye was a bit sore as he removed the remaining clumps of it, but it was otherwise fine. Brock glowered at the camel.

A breath passed by his lips. What the hell am I doing…?

Ultimately, Brock sent the stupid creature one last scornful glare before inching a safe distance around it and continuing on to the oasis a dozen or so meters behind it. He wasn’t exactly low on water, but he wouldn’t begrudge himself a chance to refill, especially since the aura rising from it led him to believe it wasn’t just any normal water.

He glanced behind him as he reached the body of water and knelt down. The camel was glaring at him with its four, big beady eyes, unmoving like usual. Still, its nameplate hadn’t appeared overhead, so it remained without the intent to fight him.

Brock lowered his hand to the water, feeling the aura tickle at his skin pleasantly. His hand, calloused but clean, dipped past the perfectly still surface of reflection and into the viscous depths. It was cool, not icy, but chilled in a way that instilled calmness and relief.

May as well try what I’m gonna steal.

Behind him, the camel snorted, stomping the sand with its feet. Brock glanced at it from over his shoulder and met its eyes. He snorted mockingly right back at it and scooped some water out with his cupped hand. Feeling the fluid dribble down his forearm, he brought it up to his lips and drank. Immediately, as it slithered down his throat, he was hit with a burst of vitality and cal-

Why… does it taste like the camel’s own aura? Brock spat the remaining water back into the oasis and froze. A dozen auras flared up around him, deep below the sand. Startled, Brock looked back, but the camel was gone. What the h-

A tentacle of water slammed into his chest, knocking him backwards and sending him rolling over the sands. Finally, he slammed into a grouping of tall shrubs, the plants crumbling underneath him. One of them was even alive, and its leaves tried to burrow into his flesh to no avail. It was too weak to do so.

Ignoring it, Brock looked up as his dizzying vision resettled, and he caught sight of the camel several meters ahead of him. It was staring at him once more with those beady fucking eyes and was standing right where Brock had been only moments prior. Its lips were barred back, revealing yellowed fangs.

Tentacles of azure water wavered to the breeze, having risen high above the animal. Brock grunted in incredulousness. It… controls the water? That explains why it’s got aura in it.

Hissing out a breath, the man got to his feet and pulled Lament from its sheath. It was a good weapon, although he knew he’d probably never use it once he got his main one back. Around him, select areas of sand were shifting and rising as several somethings burrowed up from underneath.

As Brock looked back to his attacker, he noticed the nameplate flicker overhead.

[F] Shamal, The Unmoving Guardian (LVL 72)

Shamal? Not North?

The only sound conclusion Brock could come to was that shamal meant north in whatever language was native to Egypt, though he couldn’t be sure as he didn’t speak it. But then that begged the question of why the System’s translation function didn’t change that? Eh, who cares?

Brock stilled his mind as several heads of midnight furred camels breached past the sand and bellowed at him. It wasn’t exactly threatening, but it got the point across. Nameplates began to flicker above their heads also, though oddly enough, none of them possessed a level nor name, only a grade.

The man turned his attention away and directed it back towards Shamal, The Still Guardian. It was yet to move, and it seemed to Brock that it was stalling for time, probably until its pack could extract themselves from the earth. His eyes flickered to the oasis it was standing in. The beast probably was guarding it.

“You still can’t speak?” Brock felt his tone almost hopeful. If he found the solution now, it’d save him another few days’ worth of time.

Shamal snorted and was Lament blurring through the air the next moment.

A silence fell over the area as the camels suddenly froze in their movements, gazing reverently toward their Alpha. Brock watched as aura burst from the Shamal in thick, clumping strands, its mass spreading outwards and bathing the surroundings in a soothing chill.

In a movement that was faster than Brock could perceive, the oasis swirled around the Alpha and produced a blanket of water to shield it from the blade. Lament slammed into the fluid and its keening cry stopped dead, before beginning to sink into the depths.

Brock removed it with O.M. before it was confiscated, and the weapon flew back into his hand. Clicking his tongue, he brought the blade before him and charged forward.

The wind whipped at his face as he arrived upon the creature and spun around a sharp tentacle of water. It smashed into the sand and showered him in dark grains as he worked to find a way past the viscous aegis. As far as he could tell, however, there were no openings. It was a flawless offense.

What the…

His body twisted and turned with a surprising amount of grace as he slipped past attack after attack. The camels around them had remained still, almost as though they were in an unconscious trance, and the beast that controlled the water stood unmoving behind the rippling veil of blue. Brock felt his annoyance mounting.

Two blades of water ejected themselves from the oasis as Brock dodged a bladed tentacle, and he jumped back, landing on his enclosed fist and springing back, narrowly avoiding the projectiles. There was a brief pause as the camel snorted in frustration, and Brock used it to fall back and gain some respite.

Water reached out and attempted to grab him but failed as he exceeded the maximum range it could be manipulated. He gave the creature the finger. As he glanced around, he eyed the thick strands of aura also wafting off the Alpha’s pack. They were flowing in the direction of their leader, and clearly being absorbed into its own mass of power.

And that power was being used to infuse the water so it could be better controlled.

So… If he killed the pack, Shamal would become far more manageable. Wait…

He had been trying to evolve his use of aura… hadn’t he? What was a better start than using it in the most obvious way possible? The air darkened, and Brock’s own aura spread out, easily fending off the Alpha’s. Then, Oppressive Might grasped onto the camel’s head. Its beady eyes widened.

Giving it the finger, Brock twisted. He felt its neck give immense resistance, as it was still a fairly high levelled monster, an Alpha, nonetheless. But eventually, as the beast trotted and lashed out to its surroundings with water, a crack resounded and it collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

“Just like its name suggested.” Brock didn’t know why, but the way the monster struggled left him feeling oddly… disgusting. He could have just run. I could have…

The controlled water splashed to the sands and instantly seeped into the earth as its aura wafted up and out of it, leaving it perfectly normal. Brock knew he could have just countered the beast’s own aura with his own, and dispel its control over the water, but that still left the step of killing it. This way was more efficient.

Efficient…

To his surprise, the other camels had died seconds after their leader had, leading Brock to believe that they were either extensions of Shamal somehow, or just remote-controlled aura batteries, if that was even possible.

From all the other things he’d seen in his life recently, he didn’t doubt it was.

He’d only gained a single level from the kill, and he’d immediately dumped the free stats it awarded into his Vitality, hoping it’d extend his lifespan for only a little longer. His lacking Dexterity was practically screaming at him from his status menu.

“Well,” Brock looked at the sorry state of Shamal, “that was a waste of time.”

Although, he assumed gaining a level was relatively worth it. Sparing one last glance for Shamal, Brock turned to the hazy boundary of sands in the distance and-

Coughed up a wad of blackened blood onto the sand at his feet. It splattered across the grains and the remains dribble down Brock’s lower lip. He glanced at the blood with no small amount of concern and wiped it from his chin. It was almost as dark as the sand beneath him.

Fuuuuuuck. His mouth tasted not of iron, but of something sour and stale. That is not good. At all.

Brock gulped and squinted his eyes. A landscape of orange sands awaited him next, if his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. On a side note, it seemed the extra Vitality didn’t help.

**

Adam cradled his arm. If the bone stabbing out past the skin wasn’t enough of an indication, he was certain it was broken. Rubble surrounded him. Corpses littered his left and right, the weaker people having been pulped under the falling stone. The others were probably just killed by sheer power of the aura.

As far as Adam had seen, anyone below a certain level died immediately under its influence. Luckily for him, he was a high enough level to shed death and instead experience pain as his body felt like it was crumbling.

He didn’t dare to breath nor move, not even as Maxwell flew past him, his broken and bruised body skimming over the ruined remains of their HQ like a stone over water. Eventually, his momentum was spent and he crashed into the leftovers of a pillar, blood oozing from his eyes, nose, mouth, and just about every part of his skin.

A bit of the pillar’s shattered top crumbled off and landed on his leg. The older man paid it no notice. His eyes were trained on the being walking toward him. Red, and horned like an Oni. It – he, Adam believed – wore a robe with golden trims, and he… he was a monster. More powerful than any Tyrant or even Brock Carter himself. Far more powerful.

If he didn’t know any better, Adam would have believed him to be a god.

“The locals here are aggressive these days,” the being finally reached Maxwell, and his foot blurred down, smashing the man’s kneecap to a pulp of red and white. He screamed in agony, and a fresh gush of blue blood fell from his lips. Adam quivered at the sound.

A voice, weak and quiet filled the silence left behind by the older man’s screams, “Who… the hell… do you think… you are?”

Adam stared at Maxwell in disbelief. Utter disbelief. The demon’s foot blurred and stomped his other knee. A scream resounded once more.

“Zin Keene, Inquisitor of the Divine Court,” he leaned down and grabbed Maxwell by the jaw, “I’d tell you to remember it, but unfortunately you won’t have the chance.”

His arm snapped backwards, sending a sickening snap and crackle through the silent city square, the sounds of horrified screams faint in the distance. Adam watched on in horror as Maxwell’s jaw was torn from his skull.

Then he resisted the urge to vomit as that jaw quickly found itself buried in the man’s eye sockets. Blood spilled out, and Maxwell twitched before going limp and falling to the side. Adam wanted to run. He wanted to scream and run.

“Well, wasn’t he a bit aggressive? All I did was ask a question.” two slitted eyes fell upon Adam, and he felt his very soul shudder in fear. The being laughed heartily at the sight, though Adam could see the action hid a snarl. He felt the monster’s aura begin to influence the space around them, “you’re pathetic. I don’t kill beings that can’t fight back, so don’t worry.”

As space rippled, he smiled. It wasn’t genuine, instead more of an expression of mockery than anything else, “At least that ape was delusional enough to try attack me. Always keeps things fun.”

Then he was gone, and Adam was bathed in the oppressive silence of death. A breath he had been holding for minutes escaped his lips, and he fell back against the stone behind him. Tears began to fall from his eyes.