Chapter 55 – Blood and Sand
Chapter 55 – Blood and Sand
The light of the Yandi teleporter faded as Tyler emerged in the town square, a chill still clinging to his armour from the Windy Mountains. He took a deep breath of the warm, dust-filled air. It smelled familiar. Stable. Real.
Shooba was waiting near the fountain, watering a cluster of leafy greens he had planted nearby. When he noticed Tyler approaching, he dropped the watering can and ran over.
“You’re back! What happened? Are they safe?”
Tyler gave a small nod. “They’re safe. They chose to stay behind and help restore the sanctuary. Zephryn’s… not the same anymore. She’s trying to change.”
Shooba blinked, visibly relieved. “I see. That’s good. I’ll make sure the guild notes them as missing by choice, not casualty.”
[Quest Terminated: Into the Howling Gale]
As Shooba updated the ledger, Kelmo stood silently beside him, looking up at Tyler with wide, hopeful eyes.
“What about my dad?” the turtle-hybrid asked softly. “Will you really save him?”
Tyler knelt beside him, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I made a promise, didn’t I? I’ll get him back. No matter what.”
Kelmo gave a small nod but still looked worried. Tyler looked at him gently. “Hey, Kelmo, you never told me—where are you from?”
Kelmo shifted his feet. “I’m from the south. Me and Dad were traveling through the forest one day. We were just trying to find a new place to live… when these men suddenly grabbed us.”
Tyler’s eyes darkened. “What happened after that?”
Kelmo continued, voice small and trembling. “I don’t remember much… They kept us tied up most of the time. One night, they were drinking. My dad—he caused a scene, knocked something over on purpose. They started yelling at him. That’s when he looked at me and whispered, ‘Run!’ So I did. I ran and didn’t look back.”
Tyler’s chest tightened. “He gave himself up to save you.”
Kelmo nodded, tears glistening in his eyes. “But I don’t know where he is now… I’m scared. What if they—what if he’s not—”
“You won’t be alone anymore,” Tyler said firmly. “And I promise you, I’ll find him.”
Shooba, rummaging through his satchel, interrupted. “Oh! Before I forget. Cupcake Crab left something for you. He said to give it to you if you completed the rescue mission.”
Tyler hesitated. “I don’t deserve a reward. I was the reason they got trapped in that violent storm to begin with. And I didn’t even complete the quest… it was terminated.”
Shooba held out a small box anyway. “He insisted. Said you’d understand.”
Inside the box was a shimmering purple bean, warm to the touch. There was also a folded note in Cupcake Crab’s messy handwriting:
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
[I see you’ve already used the previous one I gave you. These are incredibly hard to get. This is the last one I had, so use it wisely.]
Tyler stared at the magic bean for a moment, then quietly tucked it away in his inventory. “Use it wisely, huh? What’s that even supposed to mean…?”
He stood, turning back to Kelmo. “Stay in Yandi. Shooba will look after you. I don’t know what I’m going to face next, but I can’t risk dragging a kid into danger. Not again.”
Kelmo looked as if he wanted to protest, but instead gave a small salute. “Okay… just bring him back. Please.”
---
Tyler teleported to Dustville next. The desert town was as rowdy and packed as ever, filled with drunken mercenaries, yelling hawkers, and the ever-present scent of roasted meat. He walked through the market street toward Farnak’s bar, which stood nestled between a chili farm and a weapon dealer.
Inside, the bar was dimly lit and loud, filled with clanking mugs and the occasional punch being thrown. Farnak was behind the counter, drying a mug.
“Well, well,” he said as Tyler entered. “If it isn’t my favourite trouble magnet.”
“I need your help,” Tyler said, sliding onto a stool.
Farnak arched an eyebrow. “Of course you do. What is it this time?”
“There’s a kid named Kelmo back in Yandi. His dad was captured by the Arena slavers and forced to fight. I want to get him out.”
Farnak leaned back. “Do you even know what the guy looks like? Or his name?”
Tyler paused. His mouth opened. Then closed. “…No.”
Farnak sighed. “Brilliant. So you plan to waltz into the Arena and ask a hundred desperate fighters if they happen to be Kelmo’s dad? Newsflash: every single one of them will raise their hand if it means escaping that place.”
“Then I won’t ask. I’ll just free them all.”
Farnak dropped the mug. It shattered. “Are you insane? That could cost tens of thousands of gold!”
Tyler smirked. “Well, before coming here, I dropped by Shindo. Traded in all the faction flags I had collected. Got a huge reward from King Wing, too. I’ve got nearly 10,000 gold.”
Farnak gawked. “Lower your voice, will you?! You want to get mugged before you even make it there?”
Tyler chuckled. “Relax. There’s no Dune Bandits anymore.”
Farnak grumbled. “Habit.”
Tyler stood. “Come with me. You’ll be my witness—and I’ll cut you in on the reward.”
Farnak narrowed his eyes but eventually groaned and stood. “Fine, fine. Let’s see how long before this turns into another disaster.”
The Arena towered on the edge of Dustville—a grand, sandstone coliseum with banners fluttering in the hot wind. The outer walls were engraved with scenes of past victories, etched in exaggerated detail. Inside, the roar of the crowd was deafening.
The entrance was guarded by armoured sentries. Tyler stepped forward, only to be halted.
“Entrance fee,” one of them grunted.
“How much?”
“Two thousand gold.”
Tyler scoffed. “Robbery.”
“Still gotta pay it.”
Farnak nudged him with an elbow. “Just pay the fee, kid. No need to make a scene.”
Grumbling, Tyler handed over the gold. They stepped inside.
The inside of the arena was an awe-inspiring sight. A massive sand-floored battleground lay at the centre, surrounded by concentric stone benches packed with rowdy spectators. The air buzzed with tension, laughter, and the shouts of vendors hawking fried insects and cider. A rat hybrid slinked through the crowd, taking gold and handing out slips—bets, clearly.
In the pit, a match was just concluding.
A towering brute with plated armour lifted a massive hammer over his head. Beneath him lay a scrawny lizard hybrid, clearly unconscious. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Tyler’s expression darkened. “Level 17? That’s not a fight. That’s slaughter.”
Farnak folded his arms. “This place doesn’t care about fair.”
A guard tapped Tyler’s shoulder. “Hey. You sat through a match. That’s 500 more gold.”
“What? I was just standing—”
“You sat. Doesn’t matter for how long. Rules are rules.”
Tyler gritted his teeth but paid. Farnak shook his head.
Just then, the crowd began to chant.
“CHAMPION KRAGG!”
“THE UNDEFEATED!”
Tyler’s eyes flicked back to the brute with the hammer. So that was Kragg the Fallen.
A voice boomed across the arena. “Ladies and gentlemen! Our grand tournament begins soon! 128 challengers, one champion, one prize—a reward beyond imagination!”
Tyler watched, silent but resolute. He wasn’t sure how yet, but this was the start.
He was going to burn this corrupt system to the ground.