The destruction of the Hollow Forge had sent a seismic tremor through the Rust-Dunes, but the victory was short-lived. As the Ember Spark Company retreated from the collapsing obsidian temple, the heat of the desert seemed to curdling into a localized storm. The horizon was no longer a flat line of red sand; it was a churning wall of iron-grit and static electricity. The "Silent King" had not taken the loss of his fabrication plant lightly, and his response was as swift as it was ruthless.
"Movement on the three-o'clock!" Ria shouted, her voice nearly drowned out by the howling wind. She squinted through the dust, her spear vibrating in her hand. "They aren't just Sand-Eaters. I see indigo cloaks. The Lilies have bought the clans."
The Gilded Lilies had realized they could not beat the Ember Spark through sheer magical force alone. In the arid, magic-dampening wastes of the Rust-Dunes, they had pivoted to a deadlier strategy: Combined Arms. They had provided the Sand-Eater clans with "Sun-Sighters"—high-precision optics that could track Kaelen's thermal Echo even through a sandstorm—and in return, the clans had provided the "Iron-Skiffs."
Six skiffs crested the surrounding dunes, their iron-mesh sails catching the static-heavy winds. They didn't approach directly; they circled the party like sharks, their mechanical harpoon launchers clicking into place.
"They're herding us toward the Salt-Flats!" Pip yelled, his reflective wraps flapping violently. He was frantically trying to recalibrate his sensor, but the metallic storm was creating too much interference. "If we get caught on the flats, there's no cover! They'll pick us off with the long-range harpoons before we can even see them!"
"We can't outrun those skiffs on foot," Korg growled, planting his shield into the sand to brace against a sudden gust. "Kaelen, we need a miracle or a mountain."
Kaelen looked at his right arm. The Obsidian-Inlay was pulsing with a dull, dangerous orange. The "One-Week Clock" was irrelevant now; he was operating on a second-by-second basis. He could feel the Scepter of the Unspoken and the Regulator Crystals in his pack vibrating in a dissonant harmony. They wanted to return to the forge. They wanted to be used.
"I'm not a mountain," Kaelen said, his emerald-orange eyes fixing on the lead skiff. "But I can be the anchor. Sissik! Can you call a Root-Wall this far from the Green?"
The Lizardfolk druid looked at the parched, iron-rich sand. His scales were cracked and bleeding, but his eyes were fierce. "There are no roots here, Ash-Walker. But there is the Iron-Vein. The ancient metal that remembers the forest it once supported."
Sissik slammed his bone-staff into the sand and began a low, guttural chant. At the same time, Kaelen reached out with his obsidian arm. He didn't use fire. He used the Kinetic Absorption he had mastered in the forge. He reached into the ground, feeling for the dense iron-deposits that Pip had mentioned.
"Inversion!" Kaelen roared.
He didn't pull the metal up; he pushed his own "Expansion" heat into the subterranean iron. The reaction was instantaneous. The iron-sand didn't just melt—it expanded. Massive, jagged spikes of crude pig-iron erupted from the dunes, creating a forest of black metal that tore through the hulls of two circling skiffs.
"Direct hit!" Pip cheered, but his joy was cut short as a massive harpoon, trailing a glowing azure cable, slammed into the sand inches from his feet.
This wasn't a standard cable. It was a "Mana-Leash," designed by the Lilies to drain a target's internal Echo. The cable began to hum, and Kaelen felt a sudden, sickening drain on his strength.
"Lysa!" Kaelen hissed.
From the deck of the largest skiff, Lysa appeared. She wasn't wearing her indigo cloak anymore; she was encased in a suit of "Anti-Calamity" plate armor, her hands wielding a massive, twin-pronged tuning fork that vibrated with a neutralizing frequency.
"You've cost my Company a fortune, Kaelen!" Lysa's voice was amplified by her helmet. "The Guild has placed a 'Total Sanction' on the Ember Spark. You aren't just fugitives anymore; you're an environmental hazard! Surrender the relics, and I'll ensure your friends are given a quick trial!"
"How about a professional trade?" Ria shouted, darting forward and hurling her spear.
The spear was caught mid-air by a "Kinetic-Web" emitted from Lysa's armor. "Amateurs," Lysa sneered.
Kaelen felt the dragon, Ignis, scratching at the back of his skull. "SHE USES THE VIBRATION OF THE WEAK TO BIND THE STRONG, ECHO. DO NOT FIGHT THE LEASH. BECOME THE CURRENT."
Kaelen stopped resisting the "Mana-Leash." Instead of pulling away, he grabbed the glowing azure cable with his obsidian hand. He opened the valves of his "Expansion" core, but he didn't aim the heat at the skiff. He aimed it at the Information-Stream of the leash itself.
"You want my Echo?" Kaelen's voice dropped to that terrifying, dual-tone resonance. "Then take the whole fire!"
He flooded the cable with a massive surge of unfiltered draconic energy. The azure light turned a violent, screaming orange. On the deck of the skiff, the machinery powering the leash began to smoke and melt. Lysa's armor sparked, the tuning fork in her hand shattering into a thousand pieces.
The skiff lurched, the overloaded mana-capacitors detonating in the stern.
"Now! Korg! The Anchor-Throw!" Kaelen yelled.
Korg didn't need a second invitation. He grabbed the glowing cable, using his massive strength to swing the entire, burning skiff in a wide circle. The skiff acted as a colossal flail, smashing into the remaining two Sand-Eater vessels.
The air was filled with the sound of grinding metal and the screams of scavengers. The "Combined Arms" of the Lilies was shattered in a single, brutal moment of draconic feedback.
Lysa was thrown from her skiff as it capsized, her expensive armor dented and smoking. She looked up from the sand, her eyes filled with a pure, unadulterated hatred that transcended professional rivalry.
"This isn't over, Kaelen!" she screamed as her remaining scouts dragged her toward a retreat-skiff. "The third temple... the Sunken Cathedral... you won't even find the door before we drown you!"
Kaelen didn't pursue. He fell to his knees, his obsidian arm hissing as it cooled in the desert wind. The "One-Week Clock" flared in his mind—the massive energy dump had reset his hunger, but it had also left him hollowed out.
"We need to move," Ria said, her face grim as she recovered her spear. "The Lilies are broken for now, but the Wardens will be sending a heavy-response team to these coordinates within the hour."
"She said a 'Sunken Cathedral'," Elara said, helping Kaelen up. "That means we're heading for the Salt-Marshes on the other side of the dunes. But Kaelen... your arm. It's not changing back."
Kaelen looked at his limb. The obsidian and jade were now fused into a permanent, dark-green-and-black armor that reached all the way to his shoulder. He could no longer feel the skin beneath it. He was becoming as much a construct as the golems he was fighting.
"It doesn't matter," Kaelen said, his emerald eyes turning toward the horizon. "We have two relics. We have a team. And for the first time... I think I know why the King is so afraid of us."
"Why?" Pip asked, wiping his goggles.
"Because he's building a body," Kaelen said. "But I'm building a Company. And my Company doesn't need a regulator to know how to fight."
As the Ember Spark turned their backs on the smoking wreckage of the Gilded Lilies, they moved toward the Salt-Marshes. The "Rust-Dunes" arc was ending, but the mystery of the "Sunken Cathedral" and the third relic awaited them in the dark, suffocating waters of the East.