The desert wind howled like a wild beast, tearing across the dunes that shifted endlessly with every gust, erasing tracks and swallowing paths. Zhu Xian and Die Ba ran in silence, their bodies still aching from the brutal fight against the Tyrant Scorpion. The dried blood on Zhu Xian’s back tugged at the skin where the wound had sealed, while Die Ba coiled her serpentine tail tightly to avoid leaving an easy trail.
Then —a sharp whistle split the air.
—Down! —Zhu Xian barked.
A steel projectile, sharp as a scorpion’s stinger, tore past Die Ba’s head, embedding itself deep into the sand. Her emerald eyes widened, stunned, just as the air thickened with tension.
—So… they caught up, —Zhu Xian muttered, his jaw tight.
Atop a nearby dune, silhouetted against the burning sunset, dozens of armed figures emerged. At least twenty mercenaries, faces wrapped in desert turbans, weapons gleaming with Dou Qi light. At their center stood a tall man clad in light leather armor, wielding a black halberd that hummed with killing intent.
—Zhu Xian! Die Ba! —the leader’s voice roared, amplified by Dou Qi until it cracked like thunder across the dunes. —The desert has no hiding place for you! Hand over the serpent princess, and I promise you a swift death!
Die Ba froze at that word —princess. Zhu Xian shot her a sidelong glance but said nothing. Her lips pressed into a firm line, her eyes hardening with a quiet, fiery resolve.
—Don’t think I’ll hand you over to them, —he muttered, raising his sand-stained blade with calm, unshaken hands.
The mercenaries descended the dune like a black tide, the ground trembling under their boots, the metallic chorus of their weapons a grim hymn of slaughter.
—Zhu Xian… —Die Ba breathed, her voice trembling but steady, —if we fall here, they won’t just take me. They’ll kill you and drag your corpse through the sands as a trophy.
—Then we won’t fall, —he replied, a faint grin curling at his lips. —Stay close to me.
The first mercenary lashed out, throwing a chain laced with Dou Qi, the links snapping through the air toward Die Ba. Zhu Xian stepped forward, his sword flashing in a golden arc, severing the chain cleanly. The broken links fell lifelessly to the sand.
—Attack together! —the leader bellowed, swinging his halberd. A crescent slash of black energy screamed toward them, carving a whirlwind of sand into the sky.
Zhu Xian surged forward, red-gold Dou Qi flaring to form a shield. The force of the collision cracked the ground beneath his feet, the shockwave shoving him back. Die Ba barely managed to hold her balance, her tail digging into the sand for leverage.
Then, chaos.
Zhu Xian moved like lightning, his blade slicing through the enemy ranks, each strike deliberate, each motion sharp. But there were too many. Die Ba, her breath ragged, unleashed her own emerald Dou Qi, venom hissing from her palms, forming crystalline arrows that shot through the air, tearing into flesh.
—Hhhsss! —the venom sizzled as it burned into the attackers, their screams echoing over the dunes.
—Cursed princess! —one spat before collapsing, his face twisted in agony.
The leader pressed forward, relentless, a predator with eyes fixed on his prey. His black halberd swept arcs of power that sliced the dunes as though they were water. Zhu Xian met him head-on, their clash ringing like a storm splitting the desert. Sparks exploded, painting the sand in gold and shadow.
Zhu Xian’s Dou Qi pulsed, igniting along his blade.
—Crimson Sun Strike! —he roared, the technique blooming in incandescent light.
Steel met steel, the impact splitting the air like thunder. Sand erupted around them, cloaking the battlefield in blinding grit.
Die Ba didn’t waste the chance. Her tail coiled around two mercenaries, the sharp crack of bones snapping muffled beneath the roar of battle. Her eyes flickered with pain, but she didn’t hesitate.
Still, the swarm closed in. More blades, more shouts, more blood. Zhu Xian’s Dou Qi flared again, but fatigue gnawed at his muscles. Sweat burned his eyes; every breath tasted of iron and dust.
—Too many…! —he growled, parrying another swing.
Die Ba slid to his side, her scales shimmering with sweat and venom, her emerald gaze tight with fear.
—We can’t hold them much longer! —she hissed. —Zhu Xian, go! I’ll stay and—
—Don’t even think about it! —he roared, cutting down two men in a single motion, his blade singing with fury.
Then the sky screamed.
A piercing cry —sharp, deafening —split the battlefield. From above, an enormous bird descended, its wings wreathed in fire, a living sun tearing through the twilight. Its molten feathers glowed like blades, lighting the desert in crimson and gold.
The mercenaries froze in terror.
—A Rank-Five beast… Scarlet Sand Phoenix! —one of them shouted, his voice breaking into panic.
The phoenix swept low, the heat of its presence melting the very surface of the dunes. With a single beat of its blazing wings, it sent a wave of fire crashing over the mercenaries, scattering them like leaves in a storm. Screams filled the air, mingled with the roar of searing flames.
Zhu Xian seized the moment, gripping Die Ba’s hand tightly.
—Run!
Together, they sprinted, the dunes blurring beneath their feet as chaos erupted behind them. The shrieks, the fire, the sandstorm of battle faded into the distance as the desert bled red under the rising night.
Only when their lungs burned and their legs trembled did they collapse inside the shadowed mouth of a rocky crevice. Die Ba sank to the ground, trembling, her breath uneven. Zhu Xian leaned against the stone, sweat and blood streaking his face.
For a long moment, the only sound was the hammering of their hearts.
—Zhu Xian… —Die Ba’s voice broke softly, her emerald eyes locking on his. —Every time you fight… it’s like you’re ready to die. Why… why risk yourself like that for me?
He wiped the blood from his mouth, the corner of his lips lifting in a faint, tired smile.
—Because… I don’t want to see those eyes of yours… drown in despair. You remind me of someone… the first time I looked at them.
Die Ba stared at him, silent, her chest tightening with something warm, dangerous, and unfamiliar. Her tail curled tightly around her as she turned her gaze toward the endless dark of the desert —away from him, but unable to quiet the storm rising inside.