The dawn came painted in strange red. The sun barely crested the horizon, but the sand already burned, as if it held an inner fire. Zhu Xian rose with his sword still within arm’s reach, his body conditioned to light sleep. Die Ba was already awake, standing near the lake, her silhouette outlined against the faint morning glow.
—You didn’t sleep at all, —he said, stretching the stiffness from his shoulders.
—The oasis is too quiet, —she replied, her expression sharp. —In the desert, calm almost always means danger.
Zhu Xian strapped his sheath to his waist, tightening it securely.
—Then let’s move before danger finds us.
Their march north became an ordeal beneath the rising, merciless sun. Their tracks vanished within minutes, erased by the wind, but Die Ba could read the desert as if it were a map. With the subtle flick of her tail, she pointed out paths, shifting dunes, and hidden lines of rock beneath the surface.
By midday, the landscape changed: soft dunes gave way to a hardened plain, the sand tinted a deep, unsettling red. In the distance, shapes jutted awkwardly from the ground, like broken posts scattered across the horizon.
Zhu Xian narrowed his eyes.
—What the hell are those…?
As they drew closer, understanding sank in —human skeletons, half-buried in the hardened crimson earth. The bones were stained red, as if the land itself had drunk their blood.
Die Ba went pale.
—We’ve entered the Red Sands, —she whispered. —Few ever come here and leave alive.
Zhu Xian’s hand closed around the hilt of his sword.
—And what exactly lives here?
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she lifted a trembling finger, pointing toward the horizon.
The ground trembled. Waves of dust rolled outward in violent ripples. Then, emerging like a nightmare, a massive shape tore through the earth —a sand scorpion the size of a house, with pincers like scythes and a stinger glowing bright green, dripping venom. Its many eyes gleamed like embers in the sun.
—A Tyrant Scorpion… —Die Ba breathed. —I thought they were extinct.
The beast shrieked, a sound so sharp it sliced through the air, then slammed its tail down, sending a blinding cloud of red sand into the sky.
—Move! —Zhu Xian barked, shoving Die Ba to the side.
The stinger slammed into the ground where they had stood, shattering solid rock like brittle glass.
Zhu Xian rolled across the sand, came up on one knee, and slashed with his sword. The blade sparked off the scorpion’s armored shell, leaving only a shallow scratch.
—Too hard! —he growled.
Die Ba darted forward, driving her spear into the soft joint where the pincer met the torso. The scorpion screeched and thrashed violently. She nearly lost her balance, but Zhu Xian caught her, his arm braced firmly around her waist.
For a heartbeat, their ragged breaths mingled. Then the monster charged again.
The fight became a deadly dance. The scorpion lashed out with terrifying speed, sending red sand spinning in violent spirals. Zhu Xian and Die Ba moved as one, almost instinctively —he deflecting the main attacks, she aiming for the weaker joints in its exoskeleton. Every time a pincer slammed into the ground, the vibrations rattled up through their bones.
—The venom! Don’t let the tail touch you! —Die Ba shouted.
The stinger whipped down again, faster this time. Zhu Xian twisted, barely avoiding the strike —but not completely. The tip grazed his sleeve, leaving a searing green streak that burned through the fabric.
The stench of venom filled the air.
That hit… would’ve killed me.
Die Ba’s eyes narrowed. With a sharp cry, she hurled her spear with all her strength. It struck true, piercing the joint at the base of the stinger, throwing its deadly aim aside. The beast screamed, staggering.
Zhu Xian seized the opening. Dou Qi flared around him, white light blazing along his blade. With a powerful leap, he twisted midair and drove his sword deep into the vulnerable gap between the creature’s head and torso.
The scorpion convulsed, its body shuddering violently, then collapsed with a deafening thud, sending a cloud of crimson dust billowing like a bloody storm.
Die Ba dropped to her knees, gasping for breath. Silence descended again, broken only by the whisper of the wind.
She placed a trembling hand on Zhu Xian’s shoulder.
—I didn’t think we’d survive that.
He didn’t answer, his eyes fixed on the beast’s still-twitching carcass.
When they finally moved, Die Ba knelt by the massive corpse. With a practiced motion, she carved out a dark, crystalline core that pulsed with residual energy.
—A beast core, —she said, holding it up to the light. —With this, we’ll last a few more days. Its venom is death… but the core holds pure energy.
Zhu Xian took it, feeling its hum against his palm.
—With something like this… I can push my cultivation further.
Her gaze lingered on him, steady and sharp.
—Then save it. It might be the thing that keeps you alive.
He nodded once, slipping the core safely away.
—Let’s keep moving. The northern forest isn’t far now.
Die Ba hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward, her tail tracing a slow path across the scorched sand.
Behind them, the Red Sands stretched endlessly, littered with bones and silence —a cursed witness to survival and death.
And beneath the blistering sun, they pressed on together.