Chapter 15 – Echoes Beneath the Skin
The desert night was colder than usual.
Andrew sat alone by the fire, sword resting across his knees, shadows coiling softly at his back like smoke in a breeze.
Clara slept just a few feet away, her breathing steady. Her sword-arm twitched now and then, her dreams clearly still haunted by the battles they'd fought.
Andrew didn't sleep anymore—not really.
Instead, he trained.
Sweat rolled down his back as he pushed his physical limits, over and over—enhancing muscle fibers with mana, testing the effects of gravity shift, flowing darkness through his bones.
But tonight…
Tonight felt different.
He stopped mid-swing.
His shadow twitched.
Not from his control.
From fear.
Then, it hit.
Not a sound. Not a smell.
Just… pressure.
Unseen. Unknowable. Colossal.
His body froze.
Breath shallow.
Heart racing.
A cold sweat soaked his back.
Something was watching them.
Something beyond the understanding of this ruined world.
He turned toward the dunes.
The sand… rippled.
As if an ocean beneath it had shifted.
"Clara," he said sharply, breaking his own silence.
She woke instantly, grabbing her blade.
"What is it?"
"We need to move. Now."
She didn't question.
They ran.
Moments later, the ground erupted.
A pillar of sand spewed into the sky as something vast and monstrous surfaced—a colossal, nightmarish squid-like beast, dozens of tendrils lashing through dunes like titanic whips, eyes glowing with alien malice.
> [WARNING – BOSS DETECTED]
Level 80 – Unnamed Sand Sovereign
Andrew's instincts screamed.
Clara looked back. "That thing is—!"
"I know!"
---
The Chase
What followed was a nightmare.
For an entire day and night, they ran—across sun-scorched plains, crumbling ruins, canyon ridges, and death valleys.
Each time they thought they escaped, the sand moved again—and the beast rose.
Its tendrils struck like lightning, breaking boulders, toppling cliffs.
It learned.
It hunted.
Clara took a near-fatal hit once, barely dodging death as Andrew pulled her out using Shadow Step.
He bled.
She burned.
They endured.
And the system responded:
> New Skill Unlocked: Extended Stamina (Lv 1)
Increases endurance, reduces fatigue gain.
New Skill Unlocked: Physical Enhancement (Lv 1)
Passive boost to strength, speed, and recovery based on skill level.
Even Clara's chaos magic surged slightly in her desperation, flames turning darker, wind sharper.
They reached the border by dawn the next day.
With a final combined spell, Andrew launched a wall of obsidian-dark shadows while Clara unleashed a tornado of fire and ice, clouding the creature's sight long enough for them to escape into the broken hills beyond Libya.
The monster did not follow.
For now.
They crossed the hills with blistered feet, aching muscles, and clothes torn by sand and blood.
No more roars in the distance.
No more shifting dunes.
Just broken ground and silence.
Eventually, they found what remained of a border town—more ruins than shelter, but enough. A few standing walls. A stable corner. Even an old well, half-functional.
They collapsed beneath the skeleton of a metal canopy, letting the shadows stretch over them.
Clara sprawled across cracked stone, panting. "We almost died."
Andrew sat nearby, resting his head back against a wall. "Yeah."
"You say that like you just lost your lunch."
He chuckled—actually chuckled—and looked at her. "I'm too tired to panic."
She blinked.
Did he… just joke again?
"Okay, who are you and what did you do with Andrew?"
He tilted his head, expression relaxed. "What? I can't be friendly now?"
Clara raised a brow, smirking. "Since when?"
"Since I nearly got devoured by a skyscraper-sized calamari from hell." He gave a short, breathy laugh. "Kind of puts things in perspective."
She smiled, quietly. Not mocking—just soft.
"Yeah… it does."
A pause.
Then he looked up at the sky, eyes narrowed.
"I thought I'd die with silence. No one beside me. Just… fade."
Clara looked over at him, brow furrowing.
"But I didn't," he continued. "You were there. I didn't want to die because you were there."
She didn't say anything.
He shrugged.
"I guess what I'm saying is… thanks. For not letting me fade."
There was a long silence between them.
Clara laid back again, folding her arms behind her head. "You're welcome, idiot."
He smiled.
The sea stretched beneath them like an endless void.
Dark. Still. Ominous.
Andrew's minion-pterodactyl soared smoothly on conjured winds, its massive wings casting shifting shadows over the water. Above them, a reinforced Shadow Barrier (Level 4) shimmered faintly, humming with protective energy.
Clara sat just behind him, knees tucked up and arms resting on her thighs. The cold air whipped her hair behind her, but her eyes were bright—watching the waves below.
"Never thought I'd fly across a sea," she muttered. "Feels like a dream."
"Nightmare's more accurate," Andrew replied, glancing at the depths. "Can't shake the feeling something's watching down there."
"Don't say that. I'm still traumatized from sand-squidzilla."
Andrew smirked. "Better than drowning."
"Oh, comforting."
A pause.
The wind was cold, crisp, and silent for a moment.
Then Clara leaned slightly closer. "You're... different."
He didn't look back. "How so?"
"You're talking more. You're making jokes. You're not... hiding."
Andrew was quiet for a moment. "Maybe I just got tired of pretending to be a shadow."
Another pause.
Then he added, "You helped."
Clara blinked once—then smiled, warm despite the wind.
"You're not so bad, y'know. Once you stop being emotionally constipated."
Andrew rolled his eyes. "Thanks. I'll put that on my resume."
They laughed together. Genuinely.
But peace didn't last.
---
Ambush in the Skies
A shrill screech shattered the moment.
Andrew's Seeker flared in warning.
Dozens of winged beasts—birds, the size of motorcycles—dove from a cloud bank, eyes glowing, talons extended.
"Clara—!"
"I see them!"
They were already moving.
Andrew stood on the back of the minion, sword gleaming with dark flames. Clara launched off with a blast of wind, riding a frozen platform she conjured midair.
The sky lit up with fire and blade.
Andrew bisected three in a flash, his movements effortless—Longsword Mastery Level 3 now moving like second nature.
Clara impaled two more with spears of ice, then roasted another in midair with a crackling inferno.
Ten more came.
They didn't last long.
It was over in minutes—feathers, fire, and falling corpses raining over the sea.
---
Back on Course
Breathing steady, Clara returned to the minion's back, brushing soot from her arm.
"They're getting bolder."
Andrew nodded. "Means we're heading the right way."
She looked ahead, toward the distant horizon. "What now?"
"We cross."
He tightened the barrier around them, commanding the minion to accelerate. Wind howled.
And Europe drew closer.
Land finally appeared on the horizon.
A jagged silhouette of broken buildings, rusted watchtowers, and smoke curling up from distant chimneys.
But as they approached, it became clear—
This wasn't a safe haven.
Gunfire echoed across the coast. Spotlights flicked on.
Shouted orders.
And then—magic.
Bolts of mana surged toward them as they descended.
Andrew gritted his teeth, shadows reinforcing the barrier.
Clara cursed, weaving a wind shield over her shoulder. "Are they—firing at us?!"
"Yep."
A missile of crackling fire smashed into their side, forcing the minion to dip violently. Clara nearly fell. Andrew grabbed her wrist and pulled her in close.
"We're not fighting them," he said flatly.
"You sure?!"
"We can't waste time."
Without another word, he directed the minion to dive low—flying fast over rooftops, then banking hard toward the mountains inland.
Bullets and spells chased them, but they didn't stop.
They didn't look back.
---
They didn't know the name of the one who gave the order to open fire.
Didn't see the Level 20 General standing on a balcony, watching them vanish.
But one thing was clear:
Europe wouldn't be easier.
It would be worse.