Chapter 29 – Shadows Beneath the Sand
Chapter 29 – Shadows Beneath the Sand
“Will this be okay? Can we just walk right in?” Milo whispered, glancing at the ring of torchlight ahead.
“Don’t worry. Just trust me,” Tyler replied calmly.
The two of them were approaching the Dune Bandit Camp— twelve enemies, each above level 70. It wasn’t a fight they could win head-on. But Tyler wasn’t just here to kill and loot. He wanted information. More than that, he wanted answers.
That’s why they walked openly through the sand, clad in stolen grey wizard hats and robes. Disguised as mercenaries.
Tyler knew the bandits wouldn’t hesitate to kill them if they slipped up. So every word, every movement, had to be precise.
Then he did something completely out of the plan.
“Heya Dune Bandits! How’s it going? I heard you caught a new prey out there!”
Milo stiffened. His mouth dropped open. That’s not discreet! he screamed internally.
“Who are you? Are you one of the mercenaries?” one of the bandits barked, stepping forward.
“Yeah, I’m new,” Tyler replied smoothly. “Me and my friend here were escorting a horse-raccoon merchant, and when we saw you coming from afar, we ditched him. So… you’re gonna enjoy the loot without sharing? We didn’t even get paid yet.”
The bandit laughed. “Is that so? Yeah, we caught him. Took all he had. We’ll talk to the boss and see how much of a cut you deserve.”
“Wait, captured? Since when do we capture merchants?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know. We capture every third or fourth one.”
Tyler blinked. “What? Oh— of course. I heard that from Trevor. Yeah. I just forgot. Haha.”
“You’re a weird one,” the bandit said, narrowing his eyes. “You Trevor’s friend? Then you must be a newbie. That explains it.”
“Yup. That’s me. Newbie merc. So, uh… what happens to the captured merchants, exactly?”
The bandit smirked. “They’re thrown into the Arena. Tossed in against monsters. It’s a riot. They run, they cry, and eventually get trampled.”
“Really?”
“You didn’t know that either?”
Tyler’s eyes narrowed. “Milo.”
“Yes, it’s safe.”
“What? What do you mea—”
Before the bandit could finish, Tyler plunged his blade into his gut.
A clean, silent kill.
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They looked around. No one noticed. Tyler pulled the body behind a tent.
He had just learned something horrifying.
Captured merchants weren’t ransomed. They weren’t sold.
They were entertainment.
He recalled Farnak telling him the Arena was sealed off. Expensive. Independent from Dustville. At the time, Tyler had brushed it off. Now… it looked like the Arena wasn’t just a business — it was a slaughterhouse.
I have to visit that place soon, he thought darkly.
---
The two infiltrators continued their silent slaughter. Tyler was swift, calculated — cutting down lone guards at the camp’s edge one by one, dragging the corpses out of sight.
Surprisingly, the bandits were weaker than expected. Sloppy. Complacent.
“They’ve grown lazy,” Tyler muttered. “No real combat experience. They’re just thugs with levels.”
While Tyler handled the bulk of the work, Milo kept lookout. When a chance presented itself, he darted in with a precise strike to finish off a wounded enemy. He grinned every time he saw the XP pop up. Unlike Tyler who gained 45 XP per kill, he got 90 XP, and his level rose steeply.
[Level Up! Tyler Level 72 → 75]
[Level Up! Milo Level 35 → 40]
Despite their methodical progress, the deeper they went, the more troubling the intel became.
Tyler pieced it together: King Wing had originally paid 1000 gold to hire ten elite mercenaries. None of them showed. Why?
Because the rebels had matched that payment — another 1000 gold. A bribe.
And the one who pocketed all of it?
The Dune Wraith. The supposed leader of the fake mercenary guild. A ghost in the desert shadows.
Then there was the Arena. Not just a coliseum of bloodsport, but a dumping ground for innocent lives.
Tyler’s disgust boiled.
That’s when it happened.
Milo, finishing off one of the last enemies, used [Freeze Core]. A blast of frost exploded out, a shimmering blue light in the middle of the night.
“Idiot!” Tyler snapped. “Why do you think I didn’t use fireballs? That light draws attention!”
Too late.
The camp stirred. Five remaining bandits turned their heads, eyes locked onto the flash.
Tyler growled. He activated [Forcepush] — a blast of invisible pressure rippled through the air.
The bandits stumbled — but didn’t fall.
His PE was nearly dry. He couldn’t afford five fireballs. Maybe three.
And then — an idea.
Time to test the new toy.
He activated [Gigantify].
His body exploded in size. In an instant, Tyler towered above the camp, twenty times his normal height. The world tilted as he struggled to maintain balance.
Milo stared in awe. “Tyler?!”
“I got this!”
Each step shook the ground. Tents were flattened beneath his feet like paper. Bandits screamed as he stomped down on them one by one.
They tried to flee.
But they were too slow.
The last of them was flattened beneath his heel.
Then the skill duration ended.
Tyler’s body shrank rapidly back to normal. The compression hit him like a thunderclap. His muscles spasmed. His vision blurred.
He dropped to one knee, breathing hard.
But it was over.
They had won.
Ash, wood, and dust coated the ruins of the bandit camp. Crushed tents. Broken weapons. Silence.
Tyler stood, staggering slightly, and entered the one structure still standing — the largest tent, or what remained of it.
Inside was a bound and gagged Farnak.
Tyler smirked. “Why the long face?”
Farnak growled. “What took you so long? And what was that? You turned into some kind of giant! You almost crushed me!”
“Sorry,” Tyler said with a shrug. “Didn’t expect to use that skill here.”
“Sorry?! You nearly killed me! And your so-called perfect plan failed. I got captured. See this?!”
“Yes, I see. I apologize for the oversight. I’ll pay you enough compensation. Don’t worry.”
Farnak narrowed his eyes. “What kind of person are you? You think money solves everything? What if I died?”
“1500.”
“Huh— just get me out of here before you start negotiating!”
“With pleasure.”
Tyler bent down and untied him. As they prepared to leave, a thought struck him.
Something wasn’t right.
“Where’s the leader? The Dune Wr—ugh—”
A sharp pain pierced his back.
Tyler gasped, eyes wide.
Blood soaked the edge of his tunic.
He staggered forward, falling to one knee.
Behind him, cloaked in writhing black shadows, stood a tall figure.
Eyes like dying embers. A curved blade in hand.
“You should’ve stayed out of the sand, outsider,” the figure rasped.