The air was cold. The crimson moon stood beautifully in the dark sky as Faust walked across the gray desert. He was still not too far from the frontier where the forest met the sand.
As he made his way deeper into the desert, he glanced back, thinking about the monster that had nearly killed him just moments before. For now, he was powerless to fight against it, as he had broken both his armor and his sword with ease.
In that moment, he muttered:
"I won't forget you either… just wait."
Hours passed until the forest was no longer visible behind him. He kept walking, drawn toward the place that had called to him with a strange, persistent sensation. The desert was utterly empty. Under the graceful scarlet moon, he moved tirelessly. Days went by—only more desert, more rocks, more nothing.
Thankfully, he didn't feel sleepy in this place, though he still needed to stop and rest from time to time.
One day, he sat on the ground, leaning against a massive stone. With his eyes closed, he meditated, absorbing more mana into his two mana circles. He was still a two-circle mage, and the mana within him had yet to reach the full limit of his capacity. Advancing his circles didn't only increase the amount of mana he could hold; it also improved its quality.
It affected his body, too. Mana was life; to absorb more mana was to absorb more life—thus, his body grew stronger.
Suddenly, his black hair fluttered wildly as a powerful gust of wind rushed past him. Nail-sized grains of sand struck his face and body. His eyes snapped open, and he looked to the horizon. A massive cloud of sand was racing toward him, stretching across the sky from end to end. There was no escape.
Wherever the sand spread, darkness followed, as if it devoured light itself.
Realizing he couldn't outrun it, Faust hid behind a rock, positioning himself on the opposite side of the incoming storm.
Moments later, the storm's deafening roar filled the air. Sand grains slashed his exposed skin, leaving small bleeding wounds. The sound was overwhelming—so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts.
He kept his eyes closed. The storm's force was immense. Eventually, though, the pressure lessened. Opening his eyes, he noticed everything around him was shrouded in pitch black. Though the grains had once been large enough to see, now they had turned impossibly fine, like mist. When he extended his hand, the gray particles clung to him like damp dust.
Even the scarlet moonlight couldn't pierce the veil. Faust wondered how such a thing was possible, but when he thought back to everything he'd seen during the trials, this was far from the most unbelievable.
Pushing aside those thoughts, he pressed onward. He didn't know when—or if—the "sandstorm" would settle, and wasting time wasn't an option.
Cautious of his surroundings, Faust unsheathed his broken sword, just in case. Being completely enshrouded in darkness was bad enough… but being noticed by whatever might be lurking in that darkness would be worse. So, he kept walking toward the source of the calling, without light.
From the shadows, he felt something behind him—an eerie, sharp sensation, as if a dagger were pressed against his neck. He turned quickly, but nothing was there. Then, the sensation returned, closer this time… but still, he saw nothing. He considered creating a mana light to illuminate the area, but that would make him a clear target in the dark.
The feeling came a third time, now right beside him. He froze in place and threw two detonation runes onto the ground, waiting.
Just seconds later, something leapt from the shadows. Faust's eyes widened as he dodged to the side, detonating the nearest rune.
A sharp shriek rang out. Turning, he could barely see the outline of something on the ground. A small attacker; it resembled a goblin but appeared to be made of stone, like a gargoyle. It had a pair of short horns and slender, blade-like fingers. One detonation had been enough to blow off its leg.
Before the creature could cry out again, Faust fired a mana spike into its head. It stopped moving. As he approached, the creature's body began to crumble and dissolve into the sand.
It's quite weak...
He was pleasantly surprised. The creature wasn't durable, and it didn't seem particularly fast or strong either. But before he could feel any relief, a shadow appeared in front of him, another monster lunged, and Faust dodged to the side, firing a mana spike that caused it to fall and crumble just like the first.
What, another?
From the darkness, three more emerged and jumped toward him.
Dodging the first, Faust kicked it aside and shot a mana bullet into it. It didn't die but let out a piercing shriek.
So, mana spikes are more effective.
Avoiding their attacks wasn't too difficult, and he quickly fired three more mana spikes, one into each. All three dropped and dissolved into the sand. At that rate, each spike consumed only two percent of his mana; he could fire about fifty before his mana was totally exhausted.
His combat skills had improved quite a lot in the "illusion" he been through, he had to dodge attack from multiple foes at the same time and attack multiple of them at the same time as well, he was at least a tad stronger than before physically, mentally he was much more refined.
But before he could rest, five more appeared. He dispatched them as well, though now it took two spikes to kill each. Then eight more emerged and they were even tougher now, three spikes were needed, or a strong strike from his broken sword. They were faster, too, seeing as one even grazed his face with its hand, cutting just beneath his eye.
He kept fighting… but before he could finish off the last of them, twenty more showed up.
Surrounded, he thought about escaping—but then fifty more emerged.
Faust's expression darkened. This was not a good situation. The creatures were weak individually, but they adapted, and their numbers multiplied. Escape was the only logical choice.
They began to close in, forming a circle around him, each one identical to the ones he had already slain.
Beads of sweat formed on his brow. He knew he couldn't fight them all.
In that moment, he hurled three more detonation runes toward the one already on the ground and triggered all of them at once.
Some of the creatures were caught in the blast and shrieked, but by the time the sound faded, Faust had already begun to run. He used every remaining detonation rune he had to open a narrow path through them, but the sharp claws of the creatures still reached him, tearing at his exposed skin.
Still, he managed to escape the encirclement and ran as fast as he could.
Glancing back, he saw and heard movement… dozens of the creatures, perhaps over a hundred, and more kept appearing. They gave chase across the desert.
For over twenty minutes, he ran through the darkness, and still they came; from the sides, from the front. Some leapt toward him, their claws slashing at him. Sometimes he dodged, sometimes they landed shallow blows.
Suddenly, he halted.
Ahead of him was something that made his instincts kick in, a giant spiral in the sand, it extended at least thirty meters across. One gargoyle creature ran into Faust, as he dodged. It fell on the spiral and was immediately sucked downward, it's body disappearing in an instant.
Behind him, the monsters were approaching fast.
Now, Faust was truly trapped. In front, a spiral that could be fatal. Behind, an army of creatures. There was no safe path.
Nervousness clenched his chest. His mind raced.
He couldn't fight them all. During the chase, their numbers had grown into the hundreds, killing a dozen could be possible, but hundreds? That was near impossible, he didn't had that much mana, and with his limited supply of runes, only having six heal runes and the useless rest rune… not possible.
His situation was truly dire. Surrounded by the cruelty of nature and the malice of his foes, what choice did he have?
Fighting was probably death. Jumping into the sand vortex wasn't much better either.
So what was the best option? Give up? No.
Even if he were to die, he would still try to succeed. To move forward was his oath and he wasn't about to break it now.
His thoughts raced as he considered his options.
First, he had to conserve mana.
Second, this would mostly be physical combat. Maybe he could use the shackles to defend and rely on his body to attack, since the sword was barely useful now.
Third, he had only healing runes—but they consumed ten percent of his mana each, and he had only six of them.
His mana recovered a little while he was running, and was at around 63% of its total. That meant he could either heal six times, or fire around thirty mana spikes. Mana bullets were a less efficient alternative but they only used one percent each, so he could fire a little more than sixty of them.
Dodging and luring the creatures into the vortex could also work. It would probably be, at the very least, somewhat effective.
With a nervous grin on his face, Faust braced himself for battle as the monsters jumped towards him.