BOOM!

The dream of inheriting the Desert's Authority shattered in an instant. Targeted by the Phoenix Fenyra, Novat never stood a chance. There was no time for his mentor's rescue.

A scream, short and powerless, was consumed by the inferno.

A minute later, nothing was left of Novat but cooling ash. Not even his soul escaped the flames.

The Pilanti camp erupted into chaos. The screams of men, the shrieks of the Gold-Horned Vipers, and the sickening, chitinous chewing of the small scorpions transformed the dunes into a slaughterhouse.

If the Legendary-level Novat was the enemy's bait, then the Phoenix Fenyra was Orion's prime lure.

Valuable. Powerful. Irresistible.

Orion refused to believe that the wielder of the Desert's Authority could ignore it.

Far away, in the mage tower at the heart of the oasis, Faraday's eyes snapped open. He stared in the direction of the Zephyrwind Wastes, his expression a mixture of surprise and calculation.

He had felt Novat's death the moment it happened. But even with the power of the Desert's Authority, he couldn't have intervened in time.

It was of little consequence. Novat was merely a disciple, not a son. And even if he had been, Faraday wouldn't have let it cloud his judgment. His sole focus was ascension to demigod. Everything else was secondary. First, however, the invaders had to be killed or driven out.

Faraday rose to his feet. He grasped a staff crowned with a brilliant yellow gemstone and held it high.

"Undying of the dunes, by ancient pact and sovereign right… heed the call of the Authority. Awaken and fight for me!"

He intoned the words of power. Backed by the Desert's Authority, he could initiate a full-scale war from across the continent.

With the spell cast, Faraday lowered the staff, regulating his breathing as he tapped into the Authority to watch the distant battle unfold.

Shhh-shhh-shhh.

A new sound rose from the desert. It was different from the scuttling of the scorpions—a dry, rasping whisper, like the sound of ages grinding against bone.

"Heads up. The counterattack is starting," Orion murmured, his voice a disembodied presence. He had shrouded himself in the laws of reality, hiding his presence from the enemy below while guiding Soraya.

From his vantage point, he could see them. Mummified figures, wrapped in ancient linen, clawed their way out of the sand. Not one or two, but hordes. Then legions. The entire sea of sand seemed to awaken as every corpse buried within its depths was called to war, streaming towards the Zephyrwind Wastes.

Soraya immediately retreated into the Nest for protection. Above, the phoenix Fenyra sensed the new threat. She began circling the sand scorpion's Nest in a five-mile radius, unleashing waves of fire that incinerated the first ranks of the approaching undead.

Orion watched, unmoved. Annihilating these low-tier undead was effortless for a creature of Fenyra's power. His objective was singular: find the entity commanding the Desert's Authority.

In the oasis, then?

A spell of that magnitude had to leave a massive energy signature. Orion had a general fix on Faraday's location, but he needed to be precise.

He began to fly towards the oasis.

Back in the tower, Faraday's eyes opened again, a flicker of amusement in them. This sea of sand was a Godforsaken Land for a reason. Buried beneath it were the remains of the world's original inhabitants, along with countless failed invaders. Below the life-giving sands was an abyss of the dead, a literal Hell.

With the undead legion successfully summoned, Faraday was confident. It didn't matter how many troops the enemy had, or how elite they were. They would be drowned in an inexhaustible tide of corpses.

As for the phoenix, that archlord-level problem… he had a solution for that, too.

Faraday raised his staff once more.

"Guardian of the Wastes, Scion of the Sand God, Sentinel born of the Golden Dunes! Hear my call! Form from the gale and fight for the desert!"

Another epic-scale spell erupted from the tower. Even for an archlord-peak Grand Magus like himself, the strain was immense. The first summoning, in particular, was borderline a Divine Art. Without the Desert's Authority to power it, the spell would have consumed him whole.

Faraday uncorked a mana potion and sipped it like fine wine.

The Sandstorm Monstrosity is middle archlord in power, he mused. Even if that phoenix is something special, it will be suppressed. Without the phoenix's support, the rest of their forces will be annihilated, joining the ranks of my undead.

A cruel smile touched his lips. "A lower archlord dares to invade my sea of sand. Such audacity… Let's have some fun. You will die without ever knowing who killed you."

As Faraday restored his mana, the Zephyrwind Wastes convulsed again.

A tornado materialized from nothing, sucking sand, small scorpions, and undead alike into its vortex. They dissolved, their matter and essence melted down and recast.

At the heart of the storm, a figure took shape: a Sandstorm Monstrosity.

It was ninety feet tall, with a bald head, hollow eye sockets, and bizarrely long arms that nearly scraped the ground. Fine sand cascaded constantly from its dark, packed-earth body. A middle archlord, born of magic and rage.

WHOOSH!

Its roar was the sound of a gale-force wind. Lurching forward, it charged the phoenix Fenyra.

With the arrival of a new archlord, Fenyra could no longer afford to waste her fire on the cannon fodder below. Soraya's scorpion tribe was immediately engulfed by the tide of undead.

Thankfully, the scorpions were numerous, and Soraya was a veteran commander. On her command, they formed a defensive hemisphere around the entrance to their Nest, a bristling wall of claws and stingers that held back the first wave.

But Soraya knew it was a temporary solution. They were playing for time. No matter how many small scorpions she had, she couldn't win a war of attrition against an enemy that never tired and never stopped coming. Her children would eventually be overwhelmed.

The true turning point of this battle rested on two figures: Orion and the phoenix Fenyra.

Unless one of them broke free, the scorpion tribe was doomed.

High above the oasis, hidden within the clouds, Orion watched the second spell detonate.

The surge of power was like a lighthouse beam in the dark.

He now had Faraday's exact location.

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