The sandworms didn’t wait—they came at him all at once, a wall of teeth and death.
It was a nightmarish charge, one that would’ve brought terror to the hearts of many men.
Yet, again, Malik didn’t even flinch in the face of it.
The first worm arrived, flying through the air, and he ducked low, sliding under its shadow, his dagger raised to the sky.
Flames roared, and his blade carved through its underbelly, gutting and cooking it alive.
The beast collapsed dead just as it landed.
He spun to face the next.
The worm lunged like the one before, but not so far off the ground, forcing him to dart to the side.
It hit nothing but sand, and he was already on it, leaping onto its back, digging his dagger into its thick hide.
Boom!
His flames exploded into it, sending chunks of burning flesh flying.
In response, the worm thrashed wildly, but Malik held on, his feet planted firmly as he drove the blade deeper.
“Stay. Down!”
After another burst of fire, he yanked the dagger free and jumped, slicing it across its spine as it slithered underneath him.
The worm died before it could even go past, twitching once and then going still.
WHOOOOMPH! WHOOOOMPH!
Two more came, side by side.
Malik waited a beat, letting them close in, and then leaped straight at them.
He landed directly on a worm’s head, planting a boot deep in its flesh.
Stepping off, he plunged his dagger into it on his way down, using gravity to slice it up.
Flames exploded, melting the wounds, and it crashed into the sand, thrashing. Dead.
Malik didn’t pause.
Before he could reach the ground, he flipped off its corpse, twisting mid-air.
The other worm sliced through the air beneath him, smashing into its dead friend.
“Die.”
Still upside down, he stabbed his dagger towards the ground, shooting a piercing tongue of fire, tearing through its neck.
The head dropped. The body followed.
WHOOOOMPH!
Another sandworm came from behind, lunging at him while he was still in the air.
Not panicking in the slightest, he shot himself downwards, then sidestepped as soon as he reached the ground and slashed upward in one smooth motion.
The flames did the rest, slicing it clean in half.
A beat passed and the ground shook harder. Continue your adventure at My Virtual Library Empire
More worms. Five. No, six. Seven.
“Seriously?!”
Malik shouted.
“This shit a family reunion?”
Four of them circled him.
Their massive bodies rippled, moving in sync.
One worm lunged from his left, but he was already moving.
He slid under it, spinning around to drive his dagger into the side of its neck.
Fire erupted again, and its head snapped to the side as it crumpled to the ground.
Another worm came at him from behind.
Without looking, he spun on his heel, his dagger trailing a fiery arc through the air.
The flame shot out, cutting clean through the beast’s mouth, splitting it in half before it could near him.
WHOOOOMPH!
Then the third.
He jumped above it, ran along its stupidly long body, his dagger tearing through it, and dropped behind it, knowing of its death.
WHOOOOMPH!
The fourth came right after.
He flipped over its head, landing on it.
A quick stab to the skull and flames burst like fireworks.
The fifth came fast. Too fast. Not caring for its friend’s life.
Malik ran atop the forth and barely threw himself out of the way, landing in a roll.
Seeing that he was down, the sixth rushed toward him, taking the opportunity it was presented.
Its maw was upon him in moments, about to swallow him whole.
He was going to die… but he didn’t look panicked, not in the least.
Still on the ground, he thrust his dagger upward, straight into its mouth, the tip of the blade touching one of its many teeth.
Fwoosh—Boom!
The explosive impact pushed him out of death’s path while at the same time, his fire found its way down its throat, blowing it apart from the inside.
“Houufff… Still standing.”
Letting out a rough breath, he stood up, panting as he watched the last two rush towards him, towering over him, their shadow swallowing him whole.
Slowly, Malik raised his dagger, flames spiraling up.
“Fall.”
Both worms lunged.
He charged.
Fire met flesh.
Sand exploded everywhere.
A moment passed and when the dust settled…
“Godammit.”
Malik stood alone.
The two sandworms had collapsed behind him.
He was heaving hard, much of his Aether already spent.
Exhausted for sure, but still, he had won.
VICTORY WAS HIS!
“Malik!”
Though only for a moment.
Pulling him out of it was Safira’s scream, which sounded worried to a point way beyond normal, especially for her.
Slowly, he turned, his teeth clenched, and sprinted in her direction.
WHOOOOMPH!
A sandworm erupted from the ground in his path, its maw wide and welcoming.
“Ain’t got the time for you!”
Without hesitation, he slashed upward, shooting out a blade of fire that sliced it in half.
He continued to run forward, going in between its flesh, not wanting to waste a single fraction.
“What’s wrong?!”
Malik yelled as he reached her, his voice barely audible over the storm.
“Are you there?!”
“I’m here! Anything wrong?!”
“No, b-but—”
He grabbed her shoulder for a split second before pushing her forward.
“Then don’t stop! Just keep going!”
“O-Okay!”
She nodded, her fear barely contained, and resumed running ahead.
Malik watched her silhouette disappear into the storm before turning back to face his next opponent.
This time the sandworms reached a count higher than ten.
…They sure were relentless.
Thankfully, they seemed to not have much interest in Safira, enabling him to focus on one thing and one thing alone.
Annihilating them.
He didn’t care for why exactly, but it was a pretty obvious guess.
Her less-than-ideal Aether Core was simply too weak for consumption; they wanted something with more juice, and he, as mentioned by Cyrus, had a lot of that.
Like the average Seeker to the Ahools back in Althawul, he was a delicacy to these worms.
They came at him in waves, their massive bodies tearing through dunes and carcasses alike.
Malik’s dagger was starting to crack as he shot out one flame after another, tiny chunks of the blade crumbling away.
It was a day-and-night difference compared to what happened with his shamshir, as he had improved his control by leaps and bounds since then, but it still wasn’t good enough to where no damage would reach the blade.
For that, he needed his Aether to become fully compatible with his weapon.
A technique he had no inkling of how to perform.
So… he had no choice but to get up close and personal, using his fire only for concentrated attacks where the least amount of his Aether would be spent, in turn reducing its impact on his blade.
It was a dance, yet it wasn’t pretty. Not even close.
Cuts and bruises decorated his body due to the many close calls he had endured.
Sweat mixed with sand, stinging every open wound, and his steps started to falter.
He wasn’t as quick as he had been ten minutes ago—or even two minutes ago.
The exhaustion was creeping in, slowing him down.
And the sandworms? They noticed.
One came barreling toward him, inches away from swallowing him whole.
But before it could, he rolled out of its path and slashed upward, sending a streak of fire straight through its hide.
The worm’s head was cut off clean.
“Come on! You want me? Then COME GET ME!”
He heaved heavily as he got back into his stance, eyes scanning for the others through the storm.
Before he could get to one of them, though…
“Malik!”
Another scream from Safira cut through the storm.
“Fuck—not now.”
He cursed under his breath and sprinted toward her voice.
Blood dripped from a gash on his side, and his legs felt like lead, but he pushed forward.
When he reached her, she was huddled behind a dune, her face pale and her hands trembling.
“Malik!”
“I’m here…”
He kneeled beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, not allowing her to turn around.
“You’re okay. You’re okay.”
“I can’t—”
She started, but he cut her off.
“You can. You’re almost there. Just a little further, Safira. Go. Now… please.”
Safira hesitated, her eyes searching his face.
“GO!”
He shoved her forward before she could and stepped back, returning to his battlefield.
After a few minutes, this repeated… once, twice, thrice, becoming a cycle.
Malik would kill the sandworms, then rush to Safira whenever she called out, only to dive back into the fray.
Every clash tore him apart a little more.
New cuts, new bruises, new blood painting the sand.
His Aether Core was running on fumes, nearly turning him hollow, the fire in his dagger flickering like a dying candle.
The blade barely held together, cracks spreading like spiderwebs, one good hit away from shattering.
But, of course, he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
Every worm he killed, every step forward, was another inch closer to getting Safira out of this nightmare.
And then it happened.
He made a mistake.
His focus was elsewhere, allowing a sandworm to get close unnoticed.
WHOOOOMPH!
It flew out of the ground behind him, just shy of his back.
At the last possible moment, he dove out of the way, hitting the sand hard.
He’d barely avoided getting swallowed whole.
Gasping, Malik staggered to his feet, only to freeze.
In the direction he now faced… twelve more could be seen.
Twelve massive sandworms, all closing in like vultures on a corpse.
His hands trembled as he glanced at his dagger.
The fire was nearly gone, just a faint, pitiful flicker, and the blade was done for, cracks zigzagging across its surface.
He’d lost.
This was it.
No way out.
Malik would have to try again.
He raised his dagger to his neck, about to Blink.
But then, something caught his eye, just between a few distant dunes.
There it was… The edge of the storm—a land untouched by sand.
A land touched by humanity, its ground stone, its trees, buildings, and its hill… a miracle.
Here was Zephyr’s Ascension, a natural airlift that connected all of Al-Fawra’s layers, a vent of Aether into the outside world, beyond the maw.
Malik barely saw a glimpse of Safira’s silhouette stumble forward, entering that land.
He felt relief flooding his chest.
“She made it…”
Those words were almost lost in the chaos around him.
Finally. She was safe… Finally!
“That’s it… “
He almost laughed.
“It’s done.”
His job was over.
Malik turned, ready to follow her, to leave this cursed desert behind.
Fffshhh!
And yet, just before he could, the ground shifted beneath him.
A chain of sand erupted, wrapping tight around his ankle like a snake.
He stumbled as it yanked him to the ground, his dagger slipping from his grasp.
The sand hit hard, the air leaving his lungs in a sharp gasp.
“Agh—!”
Pain shot through him, but something else froze him and his grunt in place.
A presence. No, multiple presences, ones too strong for this place.
Something about them seemed to have calmed the storm a little, shooing away the worms.
Malik looked up, his vision blurring from heat, pain, blood loss, and exhaustion.
Through the swirling sand, he saw them, cloaked figures. Ten of them.
They moved as a unit, the sand parting around them like it feared to touch them.
Once they got close, he noticed that their robes bore a Title.
A Title he knew all too well.
The Faraja.
“Of course…”
A bitter laugh escaped his lips.
“Just my luck.”
The lead figure stepped forward, his face partially obscured by the cloth wrapping his head, leaving only cold eyes visible.
“Malik. You stand accused of grave transgressions against the laws that safeguard the sanctity of the Markaz and its Holy Kingdom. By the decree of the Faraja, you are hereby bound to answer for your deeds—for murder most heinous, for the ruin of that which was not yours to lay to waste, and for defying the will of the Divine Order itself.”
The words struck like hammer blows, echoing in his ears.
And then, everything paused.
The storm faded.
The sound of the desert vanished.
***
Or rather, it wasn’t that time itself that paused, but the projection did.
Slowly, it faded to black, and a text obvious to all on the outside was displayed.
{Will Resume Shortly…}
{End Of Volume Two: For Whom The Bell Tolls.}