Chapter Thirty-One
Inside the Adventurers' Guild — Ground Floor
The moment their boots crossed the threshold a smell hit them: old paper, dry sweat, and threads of dust that danced in the oil lamp light. Without hesitation they drifted toward the large stone wall covered in postings — dozens of slips and parchments arranged by rank. Eyes rose instinctively to the sign marked "E," the category that matched their current collective level.
They settled into a hush of concentration and began reading the tasks, one by one. Most were routine: escort a caravan, hunt a mountain wolf, clear a rat-infested cavern... but they were looking for something different, a challenge worth risking for. After a few minutes Malik reached for a dark amber slip with a confident hand.
Everyone looked; their gazes moved from the paper to the old man, then to Risha.
The moment Risha read it she inhaled sharply and cried out in a sharp objection.
"Malik!" she said, eyes wide and voice threaded with worry. "This is one of the hardest E-rank jobs! And you want us to take it when three of our group are still F-rank beginners?!!"
Malik did not flinch. He answered with a steady, calm tone as if he had already considered it carefully:
"Although they're beginners, they're good. They learn quickly, especially when working as a team." He nodded toward Daniel and Lucas and added, with a sly little tilt to his mouth, "Besides, it's not their mating season… it won't be the toughest in the category unless we find them grouped together. And lastly... the reward is good."
Tense looks passed around. The old man cleared his throat, more cautious than the rest, and said in a rational voice, "Then let's hear their opinion... we'll decide after a vote."
---
Across the room
Daniel and Lucas were bent over a medium-sized book bound in old leather; a red warning mark was stamped on its cover to denote danger. They turned its pages carefully and reached the entry for the creature targeted by Malik's chosen mission.
The title was framed in cracked sand:
Name: The Poisonous Black-Needled One
Daniel raised an eyebrow at the illustration and exchanged a quick look with Lucas. Certain features felt unsettlingly familiar.
(It looks eerily close to the scorpions from our old world... but much larger), Daniel thought, then read on.
Rank: E
Location: Deep Dunes — southwest of the Sitra Oasis.
General description:
A sand beast that slips beneath the surface like a silent killer, its wide body supported on four jointed, spear-like legs that sink easily into shifting ground. Each leg bends like a long lance and emits a harsh metallic rasp when it moves, as if it were dragging stripped iron chains.
> Its head is triangular, low and close to the sand, led by three small, inward-tilting red eyes that glow like embers beneath the surface. There is no visible mouth; instead the face is a taut crust that hints at an inner jaw that snaps open at the moment of attack.
> From the front of its body thrust two massive forearms, as if remnants of broken stone axes — their edges serrated and ending in a lethal curved pincer. Those arms move slowly at first and then explode like a boulder slamming from the top of a cliff.
> Its tail is its most distinguishing feature: thick at the base and tapering gradually to a long black spike tinged with purple. When the tail flicks in the sun, the spike flashes.
They live in small groups of two to five, which makes them far more dangerous in group battles, especially in open terrain.
Physical abilities:
▪ Tail: Equipped with a venom gland capable of firing deadly needles when needed. Before it shoots, the tail swells and glows a violet shimmer, as if a strange power is condensing inside before it fires at great force.
▪ Forearms: Massive and heavy, sheathed in thick dark plating. They are used for crushing blows or gripping and splitting an opponent in two. They can smash rock or knock away shields.
▪ Hind legs: Four razor-like legs used for anchoring to the ground and sudden lunges. They can also strike to create deep wounds and make short leaps beneath the sand.
▪ Outer carapace: Like a black metallic shell that gives excellent resistance against ordinary physical attacks. Arrows and unenchanted swords glance off it.
▪ Weak points: the partially exposed face — between the eyes — which lacks full armor, and the belly underneath, revealed only when the beast flips or is disoriented, a rare opening.
Combat behavior:
This creature favors a consistent ambush pattern: it digs a shallow pit at an angle and buries itself entirely except for its forward sensory horns which blend with the surrounding sand, creating perfect camouflage.
It waits silently, reading the vibrations of the surface through its sensory horns; when it senses suitable prey, it lashes out in a lightning strike that begins with the forearms and is followed by the tail.
> Tactical note: Because of its large size it struggles to sense very light movement above it, so there's a chance to sneak by if a person moves with sufficient stealth or uses tools that reduce their weight on the sand.
Rewards and sellable components:
▪ Tail needle: Can be fitted as arrowheads or delicate daggers. Its poison remains potent for days and is used in hunting or assassination.
▪ Black shell: A resistant material used to craft medium to heavy armor. It significantly boosts physical defense.
▪ Hind legs: Melted and forged into thrusting weapons or light spears, favored by shadow fighters and agile duelists.
▪ Tail venom: A rare ingredient for paralysis potions and blends that temporarily disrupt mana flow — ideal against casters.
▪ Liver: A key component in creating "Earth Wave Eira — Level 2," highly sought after by alchemists and traveling toxin merchants.
---
When Daniel and Lucas finished the last page, silence fell over them like a thick curtain. They looked at each other slowly, exchanging hard glances, and then both lifted their heads at the same time toward the rest of the group.
Niral had already agreed to the mission in two short words — no argument.
The two of them smiled, as if sharing an unspoken pact, and spoke together in surprising unison: "We accept as well."
Opposite them, Risha and Azrian did not share that eagerness. They exchanged a quick look, worry shading their faces as if they read what lay behind the lines. Risha spoke first, reproach threaded with care:
"We refuse... out of fear for you, not for any other reason."
Daniel did not budge. He answered calmly, with an unshakeable resolve: "The greater the risk, the greater the reward, isn't that so? We want to grow strong fast... staying beginners or remaining small-time mercenaries won't keep us safe. We're looking for a leap, not a small step."
Azrian fixed him with a long look — not angry, but heavy with caution — and replied in a rougher voice: "That is true, but... one wrong step on this road and you may regret it deeply. Or — you may not even have the time to feel regret."
He fell silent for a moment, then added, looking Daniel square in the eye, "The dead feel nothing, after all."
Risha sighed slowly, as if the weariness settled on her shoulders; with an impatient lift of a brow she said sarcastically, "Men... and their mad ways of thinking. Upside-down logic: they run toward danger as if daring it to strike."
She took Daniel's book from the table and flipped its pages with deft fingers until she paused. She blinked, then said clearly, "There is another use not listed here. Its thick black blood, if carefully processed, is used to make long-lasting inks."
Brows rose; a hush followed. One by one the group shifted into action with measured steps.
**
The next morning they met at the kingdom gate, each standing by a packed wagon, saddlebags strapped, weapons slung. The great fortress faded behind a thin veil of mist. The air carried a slight morning chill.
And there had been a development in everyone's strength, especially Niral, who had now reached the second circle.
This mission was different from any before — five days' ride from the kingdom, a long road with no guarantees.
**
Five weary nights and days passed.
Faces shifted from excitement to silence, from jokes to constant vigilance. At last, when their bodies seemed to groan from the strain, they reached the designated area.
They dismounted near jagged rocks like knives, hid the horses in the shade of a curved sand wall, tightened bridles, and then set out on foot toward the monsters' territory.
The atmosphere was suffocating.
The scent of scorched sand rose from the ground; the sky above burned under an unrelenting sun. The dunes stretched without end — as if they walked on a bottomless sea.
Still... their eyes never left the sand.
(One wrong step here can mean life or death.)
**
They took up a carefully planned formation. Azrian and Malik led the way as shock force, sensing danger first. Close behind stood Lucas and Risha — quick response and ranged cover. In the rear Daniel and Niral moved light-footed, ready to intervene at the right moment or to deliver long-range strikes that might tip the scale.
Then, suddenly...
Malik halted.
His eyes fixed on a single point in the sand as if seeing a hidden pulse none of the others could see.
Seconds later Azrian moved to his side and stared in the same direction, silent; he raised a brow with an odd expression.
"Four horns..." Malik said, so softly it was almost a whisper.
A small, wary smile touched Azrian's lips. "Our first fight... and it will be against just two."