Emil

  The second day of the expedition was a series of unpleasant affairs. At the break of dawn, the Dhazara encampment was stirred awake by a violent storm. Supplies that hadn’t been properly tied down were thrown into the desolate lands of the Saar. When the storm finally subsided an hour later, the encampment was a harrowing mess.

  Emil spat out a mouthful of sand, disgusted at the arid and coarse texture stuck to his tongue. His arms trembled as he forced his fingers to loosen around one of the iron rods still holding up his ruined tent. A small incantation of Bulwark removed a portion of the sand that had filled up to his chest, giving him some space to pry himself free. Fortunately, he had the foresight to dig a small hole to root his body down just before the storm grew vicious. The thought of being tossed around by the shrieking winds sent a shudder down his body.

  Well, at least I’m wide awake now.

  He was getting ready to free himself from the hole when Nabil and Inaya showed up to his tent.

  “You seem rather dainty,” Nabil remarked with a feline smile, “Your friends are a little shaken up, but they’re fine. No injuries.” Aside from a few loose strands of hair scattered across his face, the Dhazara leader appeared as though he had just woken up from a blissful nap.

  “What about your people?”

  “Several of them foolishly forgot to tie themselves down before they retired for bed.” He shrugged with a hint of disappointment. “The Saar punishes the ill-prepared. It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with. Rather, you should get your things packed. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

  Without waiting for an acknowledgement, the two exited the tattered mess of his tent. Emil groaned as he pulled himself out from the hole. Sand clung uncomfortably in the airgaps between his clothes and skin. As he tried to rid himself of all the excess sand, it dawned on him that somewhere beneath this bed of sand were the contents of his pack.

  ***

  The unplanned early start ended up paying off. The aftereffects of the morning storm led to a rare cloudy day in the Saar. The skies were crowded with rolling clouds that periodically blotted out the sun in a translucent gauze. The cooler temperatures allowed the camels to travel at a faster pace since the blistering heat of the day was no longer an impediment. By late afternoon, the faint vestiges of the Nordica Quarries became visible over the horizon.

  Within two hours, they would likely arrive at the base of the long stretch of mountains that separated the provinces of Gharia and Nordica. The mountains of the Nordica Quarries were particularly dangerous to scale, characterized by steep cliffs and craggy outcrops that would give even an Exalted trouble to ascend. But beneath the towering mounts of stone laid a rich basin of minerals and ores hidden deep underground. In fact, the Azurite itself was first discovered near the bedrocks of these quarries.

  In the meanwhile, a series of long parabolic sand dunes stood in the way of their destination. The sheer size of the sand formations along with the position of the sun created a natural barrier that hid their advance. The Zal’Khari encampment was said to somewhere behind one of the dunes at the mountain’s base.

  As they got closer, Nabil ordered their formation to tighten. The four camel riders on the extremities converged with the rest of the expedition. Stealth became the priority. In addition, now that they were near the Zal’Khari encampment, the likelihood of encountering the sandworm was significantly reduced.

  “Why is that?” Emil asked, raising a brow. The inverse should have been true. Given that the sandworms were monsters, they should have been more common near sources of Azurite and mana. The prevalence of Zal’Khari activities in the region should have also drawn plenty of attention from the colossal abominations.

  To his surprise, Nabil had an inquisitive glint in his gaze. “Honestly, I’m not quite sure. Your thought process is logical and fits with what we know about the sandworms. And yet, it doesn’t align with what we’ve observed of this region.” He trailed off, offering no more insights.

  Strange. Emil frowned, noting the confounding behavior.

  It was during the climb of the third sand dune when the weather suddenly took a turn for the worse. The winds picked up in a split second. Emil was at the vanguard scouting with his mana perception. He was one of the few who was descending the dune when the storm hit without warning.

  The gusts screeched across the desert like the wail of banshees. Sand blasted against his face, burning his eyes as he struggled to see. Visibility dropped to near zero within an instant. The ferocity of this storm made all previous encounters pale in comparison.

  “Follow the storm protocol!” one of the Dhazara warriors yelled over the raging winds.

  The storm protocol. What was the storm protocol? Emil blanked, wincing as the sand continued to pepper his face like iron beads.

  Right. Get off the camel. Get a rope from the nearest person. Fasten it to my belt. Lay low.

  It would have been a simple procedure in any other circumstance, but Emil struggled as the winds howled in his ears and the sand threatened to tear through every orifice in his body.

  His camel had already lowered itself to the ground unprompted thanks to its training. He hurriedly jumped off and dug into his pack. If he remembered correctly, there was supposed to be an iron clip that allowed him to attach the rope to his body.

  Where is it?

  “Hurry up!”

  The rope was tossed to him. The Dhazara warrior beside him was barely visible over the shrieking sands.

  Where the fuck is it?!

  “I can’t find the clip!” he managed to scream before being bombarded with a mouthful of sand. His mind was racing. In the midst of his panic, he recalled that his pack had been dislodged this morning by the earlier storm. He must have lost it there.

  “Just tie the rope around your waist!”

  Realizing it was futile, he immediately reached for the rope. A sudden gust slammed into his side at the exact instant. The wind sent him to the ground. He flipped and tumbled down the slope of the steep sand dune. The Dhazara warrior disappeared into the sandy shroud. He heard a faint muffled shout before everything was swallowed by the sandstorm.

  Shit, shit, shit!

  His body eventually rolled to a stop. His head was spinning. Nothing made sense amidst the endless torrent of sand. The winds were so loud that he couldn’t hear himself think. Trying to get back to the group was useless. He couldn’t even tell which side of the sand dune he was currently facing.

  Just hunker down.

  He channeled Bulwark to create a hole into the ground. He settled in and erected a small perimeter of stone walls to barricade himself against the wind. His immediate vicinity instantly became more amiable as the suffocating tension of the storm eased within his makeshift dwelling. He wiped his face and inhaled deeply before coughing out the sand burning in his throat.

  I really hate this place.

  He heaved, trying to expel the panic that held his mind in a vice grip. The situation wasn’t as bad as he felt. Bulwark did an excellent job of protecting himself against the winds. A quick use of Seismic Sense indicated that he was far from the others, but that was fine. The main protocol during the sandstorm was to stay put. As long as he remained where he was until the storm subsided, he should be able to rejoin the rest of the expedition without issue.

  It wouldn’t be another thirty minutes before the winds finally began to calm.

  Confined in this pit, he had nothing to do but count down the seconds and wait for the passage of time. Once the howling stopped, he dispersed the barricades forged by Bulwark and pulled himself out. His ears rang. Sand lingered in the air, clinging to the space like a hazy veil. Visibility was still distressingly poor.

  That Dhazara warrior knows that I got separated.

  Nabil would send out a search party for him once visibility improved. Emil was impatient, however. The weight of being alone in the Saar grinded on his nerve. The pressure was despairing as he gazed at the empty abyss stretching before him. Frankly, he was terrified. This unfamiliar desert and its eccentric, unpredictable whims weren’t like anything that he had dealt with before. Exalted had the powers to bend nature to its will, but the Saar felt untamable.

  He activated Seismic Sense.

  A ripple of mana crawled along the surface of the sands until he detected several presences. They were close. Just a few feet to his left. Emil wasn’t sure which direction he was facing. Being flung off the slope of the sand dune had thrown his bearings into disarray.

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  He trudged towards the presences, relieved. His legs were unusually stiff. The tunic covering his nose and mouth tasted dry and powdery. In two minutes, he saw the first silhouettes found by Seismic Sense.

  Were the Dhazara always this close?

  His mind barely processed the question when he stepped into the view. The warriors in front of him jumped as they saw him. There was three in his sight. A couple more lingered on the edge of what the sand allowed him to see. Emil’s relief quickly turned into suspicion. The wariness and tension in the air clawed at his throat. Malicious. It was then he stole a glance at their clothes. Beneath the rags and tunics hid the outlines of vivid and intricate face paint.

  These weren’t Dhazara.

  They were Zal’Khari.

  His foes seemed to have realized the same thing. The confusion in their eyes vanished into unclouded hatred. Metal screeched. Weapons and shields raised. Calls to attack were overpowered by shrieking war cries. A wild and animalistic bloodlust immediately filled the air. It was primal and visceral and for a moment, Emil felt the weight of the Zal’Khari’s hatred. Intermingled with the destructive urges was a rancid bitterness that had been laid to fester. A deep loathing. A resentment that could only be paid in blood.

  He would likely never know the full extent of the horrors inflicted upon the Gharians during the annexation wars. The exact list of atrocities committed by the royal family to seize the Saar’s treasures would forever remain off the records. That was fine. It didn’t matter in this moment.

  Because Emil felt the exact same way.

  He stepped forth and lashed out with an open palm strike. Flames shot out in a narrow jet at the nearest Zal’Khari. The warrior made a disturbing sound as though he was being strangled. He dropped his weapon, his hands clawing fruitlessly at his throat. The entirety of his neck had been scorched black as he soon collapsed to his death.

  Emil turned to the next approaching foe. Blaze ignited his left fingertips, imbuing his hand with the sharpness of a blade. His ears were drowned by the sizzling of skin and oil. The stench of burning flesh fumed his nostrils as he plunged his hand through the chest of another Zal’Khari. Gore splattered against his face. It barely registered as he already kicked the corpse aside.

  The last Zal’Khari in his immediate vicinity was mid-swing with his axe. Bulwark formed a thin piece of armor around his shoulders. The axe bounced off the stone plates to little effect, barely slowing Emil down as he retaliated with a cross chop. The Zal’Khari’s head rolled to the ground.

  The rest of the enemies arrived from beyond the sand. Emil wasted no time. Blaze infused his limbs with unnatural strength as he drew a fiery crescent in front of him. The Zal’Khari’s true nature was like roaches—tenacious and unyielding in the face of death. They clung to life with a maniac desperation, driven by an unnatural madness that compelled them to take one more step forward rather than give into the sweet release of death. It was disturbing. The sight of swarms of walking corpse continue to crawl in defiance of death was horrific. Emil wanted no part of it.

  All of the Zal’Khari bearing down on him were decapitated in one bloody attack.

  It was the easiest solution that he could think of. Remove the head or crush the brain and the rest of their body had no means to move.

  “Trace.”

  He scanned the vicinity with Seismic Sense, searching for stragglers and possible escapees.

  Behind me!

  He spun around, Blaze flaring across his body like wings.

  “Don’t attack! Friendlies! Friendlies!”

  He vaguely registered the voice. The side of his head throbbed. His ears were ringing with a loud hum. For a second, he could hear the blood pulsating in resonance against his eardrum. The sudden awareness of rhythmic thump snapped him out of his murderous trance. He hesitated. Blaze flickered with uncertainty. His fingers shook. His body still craved blood.

  “Emil! It’s us!”

  He dispersed his flames.

  Anna and Inaya soon emerged from the sand veil.

  ***

  “Did any of them escape?” Nabil asked, frowning at the pile of gore that remained of the Zal’Khari scouting group.

  A couple of Dhazara crossbowmen were searching through the dead for anything useful—maps, notes, or trinkets that might give them some unexpected intel about the mining encampment. At the same time, several warriors were digging holes to bury the bodies.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Emil replied. He was still on edge. His body quivered with violent jitters as the rush of combat lingered in his veins. It wasn’t enough. He wanted more. The vengeful feeling in his heart was fresh and it continued to fester, burning even brighter now that he got a taste of what’s to come.

  “Are you certain?” Nabil pressed him for more details.

  He nearly blurted out his use of Seismic Sense until he remembered that he was supposed to be keeping Bulwark a secret.

  “At least from what I could see, yes,” he clarified.

  “Hmm, would it be safer to assume that the Zal’Khari know we’re here?” Nabil thought out loud.

  Inaya was the first to respond. “Regardless, I think we should advance towards the encampment while visibility remains poor. The sandstorm was unexpected, but it might have been a blessing in disguise. We can use the sand to conceal our approach.”

  There was a wave of agreement from the small group gathered around them. Time was of essence. With the decision made, the expedition sped ahead until they arrived at the fringes of the mining outpost. Nabil ordered everyone at the vanguard to dismount their camels as they crept up the slope of the last sand dune lying between them and the Zal’Khari.

  “Basar, I need you,” Nabil ordered while prone against the edge of the slope. The encampment was just below them. It was a quaint settlement situated at the trough of the sand dune. Wooden spikes and stone barricades were erected along the perimeter to deter cavalry charges and protect against ranged bombardments. Emil could make out the outlines of tall structures sporadically littered around the encampment. Watchtowers, perhaps. But under the lingering residuals of the sandstorm, it was difficult to see.

  The Exalted named Basar crawled up just beneath the peak of the sand dune beside Nabil. Emil heard a faint incantation and followed by a sudden pulsation of mana. He nearly flinched, combative instincts flaring in response. Thankfully, the spike in ambient mana was brief.

  “What do you see?” Nabil asked.

  Basar was silent for a few seconds. Mana inundated his eyes as he raised his head to scan through the thick sand. “Five overseers along with the perimeter atop of the watchtowers. This encampment continues onwards till the base of the Nordica Quarries. There’s a cavern at the end. Presumably it’s the entrance to the mining shaft.”

  “Any signs of Nasir or Rakan?”

  Another pause. Basar seemed hesitant when he spoke up again. “No. I don’t see them. I don’t see many warriors at all, truthfully. Most of the people in the encampment look like workers. They’ve got tools in hand. No weapons.”

  “Come back. Point out the positions of the encampment to me on paper,” Nabil commanded.

  From Basar’s descriptions, the sand dune that they were hiding behind formed a semicircular perimeter around the encampment. Their current position approached the semicircle from the left and was equidistant to both the encampment and the mining cavern. Besides the five overseers, there were a few scattered detachments of Zal’Khari warriors spread out along the edges. Fifty men at most. None of them appeared to be Exalted as far as Basar could tell.

  “Well ladies and gentlemen, it seems like we’re got lucky and the enemy decided to hand us the mine without a fight,” Nabil said, amused, “Or perhaps Rakan and Nasir became more cunning recently and this is all an elaborate trap.”

  “There could be more of them inside the cavern. Nasir not being present is strange,” Inaya added, “I’m hesitant to think that they didn’t plan for a potential raid after their encounter with the Ardairans two days ago.”

  “I agree. But we’re not going to accomplish anything by being meek.”

  Nabil assigned a small group of warriors and Exalted led by Inaya to take control of the cavern entrance. The rest of the expedition was spread across the perimeter of the sand dune, ready to charge on Nabil’s command. The Dhazara leader began to draw a pentagram into the ground. Mana dipped from his fingertips, flowing into the lines left in the sand before dispersing deeper into the earth.

  Emil took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and soaked in his bloodlust. In his mind, he replayed Van’s last moments. The blood splatter. The instant his head severed from his neck. The confused, incredulous glance on his face as he met an untimely end. Emil’s heart clenched with every frame within the recollection. It was self-inflicted torture. His self-condemnation for being unable to keep his mentor alive.

  “I want you to stay back on reserve,” Nabil suddenly ordered, tapping him on the shoulder, “Analyze the situation. Step in only if you deem it necessary. If it all goes according to plan, we won’t need you to lift a finger.”

  Emil shot him a sidelong glance, almost livid at the suggestion. “It sounds like you don’t want me on the battlefield.”

  The Dhazara leader smirked. “If I’m being candid, I’m a bit terrified that you’re going to go on a rampage. I know you want your vengeance. But are those Zal’Khari rank-and-file the enemies you should be focused on?”

  Emil clicked his tongue.

  “Focus on the main attraction. I’m going to need you if Nasir or Rakan appears. So stay put for now.”

  He reluctantly agreed.

  With that discussion resolved, Nabil suddenly clapped his hands together. Emil felt the ambient mana surge in the distance. There were several spikes scattered across the encampment below. He peeked his head over the sand dune. At the base of the closest watchtower, a construct of sand rose from the earth. Sand in its vicinity were rapidly being absorbed into its body until the construct took on a humanoid form.

  A golem.

  The structure stood at seven feet tall. It barreled into the side of the watch tower. The structure strayed precariously as the overseer atop began shouting out warnings. The Zal’Khari warriors on standby spurred into action.

  “Disperse,” Nabil hummed.

  Emil felt mana within the construct spiral violently out of control. The golem then exploded. Sand shot outwards like shrapnel. The Zal’Khari warriors screamed—their bodies eviscerated by the high-speed particles.

  “Now!”

  The Dhazara warriors stormed over the sand dune. War cries filled the air as they lunged head-first into the battered remnants of the Zal’Khari defenses.

  ***

  The raid barely lasted ten minutes. Nabil’s sand golems had incapacitated the bulk of the Zal’Khari forces. Inaya and her detachment reported a couple of Zal’Khari warriors attempting to flee for the caverns, implying that there were likely more reinforcements stationed inside the quarries.

  Meanwhile, Nabil ordered his men to lock down the encampment. Scouts were placed on the outer edges of the sand dunes. Exalted worked to restore some of the fortifications destroyed during the raid while the warriors took control of the workers. Most of them looked haggard, wearing rags that barely covered their bony bodies. Metal collars chained their necks and legs. Only their hands were allowed to be free as they chipped away at the ores and minerals littered around the encampment with chisels and hammers.

  They were trying to remove the impurities to get pure Azurite.

  Their method, however, was extremely outdated. Azurite processing was never done by hands nowadays. Blast furnaces and other metallurgy techniques handled the bulk of the separation of Azurite from other impurities.

  “…Are these slaves?” Liesel asked, who was standing beside him with an incredulous look. Slavery was outlawed in Ardair by the previous generation of the royal family, one of the few things they did that had positive effects for the kingdom. Underground operations still existed, of course, but those were eliminated with prejudice the moment they were uncovered. To find slaves in the Saar, amongst the Gharians no less, was an unpleasant surprise.

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Nabil said sadly, “Prisoners taken by the Zal’Khari’s raids. We Gharians aren’t so monolithic as you Ardairans seem to think. Just because we share the same sunbaked skin doesn’t mean we think of them all as our brethren.”

  “What will you do once you’ve unified the tribes?” Emil asked.

  “A question for later. I’m not afraid to dirty my hands and get pragmatic if I must.” Nabil shifted his attention towards Kai before making eye contact with Emil. “Now, I’m assigning the two of you to join Inaya. Rejoice. You get the pleasure of investigating the cavern.”