How casually he had pointed in that direction, as if the distance could be crossed with a single step, but the dunes that had been their destination were at least seventeen kilometers away.

Seventeen kilometers.

That was how far they had to travel to reach the dunes the shadow was leading them toward.

Lyn didn't have it in him to worry about the oddity of someone possessing a living, moving shadow that could act independently of its host body.

The magic and science behind it were insane, to say the least. Thinking about it further, how did Damon's body even react to light if he didn't have a shadow.

Shadows were a natural obstruction of light. That was how they were formed. Yet without one, in broad daylight, Damon was a strange sight.

Lyn had witnessed it. Damon simply didn't cast a shadow once his original one left.

But—

'Why didn't a new one form when the original left.' He thought his analytic nature was taking over for a moment.

By all means Damon was still there, so why not.

'Does light not notice he exists, or is his existence tied more to his shadow?' The thoughts were a defensive mechanism to prevent his mind from being overwhelmed by the fear and stress of the unknown enemy they would be facing.

Lyn shook his head, feeling the hot burning sun on his face

This wasn't the time to analyze Damon. He'd be better off focusing on the battle ahead.

The desert sun burned even through the armor of pure darkness wrapped around his body.

"Sithara, stay close. We're approaching something." He muttered loud enough for his sister to hear.

She nodded, keeping her aura restrained. The shadow they followed slowed, then gestured, pointing over the crest of a sand dune.

They were atop a sand dune.

Lyn dropped to the ground immediately, signaling for his sister to do the same. She followed, the scorching sand biting into her arms as they crawled forward together.

Slowly, they peeked over the dune.

In the shade below lay a creature half buried in sand. Its body was brown, blending almost perfectly with the desert, spikes protruding from its hide.

It was large and furry, which made no sense for the climate. It should have been lean, sparse in fur to combat the heat, but it wasn't.

A long tail curled behind it like a scorpion's, and its arms were disturbingly human in shape. Its face looked like crushed stone pressed together, a black mouth splitting it open, mandibles like an insect's trapped where teeth should be.

Lyn observed it carefully, eyes narrowing as he analyzed its structure.

"What is that," Sithara whispered, unfamiliar with this type of creature.

There were countless monsters in the world. New ones spawned every day. Most were documented based on frequency and habitat.

This one was likely native to the region, but Lyn and Sithara weren't. They didn't belong to this world.

Still.

"It's a sand spitter," Lyn replied, piecing together its identity from rumor and scattered hearsay.

The source wasn't fully reliable, but it fit.

"What's our offensive strategy," she asked quietly.

Lyn glanced at Damon's shadow, which seemed to be watching them with a broad, almost mocking expression.

"It's first class. With our defensive capabilities, we should be able to kill it if we act with caution."

She shifted slightly, the heat rising from the sand pressing against her face.

"But we can't ignore how vulnerable we are. A rank one monster can rip us apart. Their strength isn't proportional to their mass, and it likely has abilities we can't account for."

Lyn closed his eyes briefly, then reopened them, watching the sand spitter roll lazily in the heat.

"We also can't delay. The longer we stay, the faster we lose mana."

Sithara bit her lip, anxiety tightening her chest.

Those who hadn't reached first class weren't meant to fight first class monsters. Even survival usually required a full party, and that didn't guarantee victory.

At least, that was what she knew.

If she knew Damon had slain a war troll in direct combat before awakening, she would have had to rethink everything.

Then again, he was an entirely different kind of monster.

"Let's observe first. Find its weaknesses, then attack, a day or two should do." Sithara whispered.

"No," Lyn replied quietly. "We plan our offensive and strike before time runs out. We have limited time and limited resources."

He turned to her, hands red from the scorching sand, hot wind whipping his hair as grains stung his skin.

"The longer we wait, the less mana we have. The less mana we have, the weaker we are. The weaker we are, the sooner we die."

He wasn't wrong.

Under normal circumstances, observation would be the smarter option.

But not here.

Time was against them.

"I still don't agree," Sithara whispered.

Damon and Lazarak were too far away to help them. Even assuming Damon would help at all.

Lyn pressed his lips together.

"We can't be a liability. We have to advance."

She hesitated, then exhaled.

"Fine. Then let's ask a third party."

They both turned, expressions serious, eyes fixed on the shadow beside them.

"Mr. Shadow," Sithara whispered. "Should we advance or observe."

The shadow paused.

This was Damon Grey's shadow. Damon was known to be patient, calculating but also—

No. That wasn't true.

The shadow raised one hand dismissively.

Even without sound, the meaning was clear.

"You little brats are afraid of that tiny weakling."

They glanced at each other, confirming they'd understood the same thing.

The shadow patted its chest, posturing proudly despite having no form.

The message was unmistakable.

"Attack."

Lyn smiled, satisfied.

Sithara sighed, resignation crossing her face.

"Fine. We attack. But we still need a strategy that doesn't get us killed. I would've preferred more time, but a vote has been passed, and the reasoning is… sound. I agree."

With that, the two of them crouched lower in the sand, beginning to map out their plan beneath the burning desert sun.

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