Under the three dim bloody moons, the Crimson Dunes were eerily quiet. People lay in their tents resting, while some were planning for the following day's actions.
Yet, they failed to notice the silent angels of death moving closer to them.
The desert wind blew gently across the dunes, carrying faint traces of sand, heat, and blood.
From afar, the scattered tents looked like harmless shadows resting beneath the moonlight.
But beneath those shadows were greed, ambition, and countless eyes fixed on Mantis Town.
Further away from the central dune where the big factions gathered, beneath a dune, a small tent flapped gently with the wind, with one person standing guard.
He rested both of his arms on his heavy axe, his eyes heavy as he stared directly into the endless dunes. Frequently, he yawned heavily but shook his head to stay awake.
His eyelids were heavy.
And the quietness of the desert made his mind drift repeatedly.
Swish!
Thud!
