The moment the words “sand spirit” left Ksaz's mouth, Shane felt the surrounding air freeze.
He remembered all too clearly Ksaz's description of his tribe's demise. A wind had whipped up from between the dunes without warning, painting the sky a dusty yellow within hours. Clothed in some indescribable force, the sandstorm had swallowed an oasis that had existed for decades in less than thirty minutes.
And right now, the eerie air currents swirling above the distant dunes looked exactly like what Ksaz had described.
Everyone's gaze fell upon Ksaz before shifting toward the sky. The fierce battle came to an abrupt halt.
Elon was the first to react. His massive, bear-like frame began to shrink as the emerald-green light receded from his fur. Within a few breaths, he had returned to his human form.
The old druid, now bare-chested, took shallow, steady breaths. He cast a glance at the strange phenomenon over the distant dunes, then turned to look at Shane, his expression solemn.
Sern's body also returned to normal. She leaped down from the bone spear, reverting to her form as a teenage girl of sixteen or seventeen.
However, she no longer stared at Shane. Instead, her eyes quickly swept over the tents in the camp as if confirming the location of something. Ignoring everyone else, she blurred past the dazed guards and slipped straight into one of the tents.
Meanwhile, Olen tossed his orb into the air. It burst mid-flight, once again transforming into a crimson falcon. The moment it appeared, it shot upward like an arrow toward the heavens, quickly shrinking into a tiny red speck.
“Judging by the flow of mana, it is indeed a sand spirit. It's forming now, and its scale is massive.”
Although Olen's voice remained calm, his face had turned slightly pale. Anyone witnessing such an unspeakable natural disaster would instinctively feel a wave of panic. “Based on its current scale, it will cover the entire oasis.”
Olen looked toward the princess, his meaning clear: it was time to make a decision.
Yet whether it was the princess or her guards, their eyes were all fixed on Shane. Everyone wanted to know if this necromancer could perform another miracle for them in a crisis like this.
Shane stood there, watching the slowly forming vortex of the sandstorm in the distance, Ksaz's past words echoing in his mind:
“Once a sand spirit fully forms, it becomes a massive sandstorm vortex. It will blanket the oasis and swallow every living thing within it.”
“Basic elemental magic is completely useless against a sand spirit. It will only feed it and make it stronger.”
“Therefore, when facing a sand spirit, the best course of action is to run.”
In his past life, when he was planting trees in the northwest, sandstorms were not uncommon. But even in that environment, they relied on a system of pre-disaster prevention, active monitoring and evacuation, and post-disaster assessment and restoration.
Thanks to the stabilizing effects of straw checkerboards and various windbreaking, sand-fixing pioneer species and drought-resistant plants, some vegetation would always survive the storm, allowing planting efforts to continue.
But that had been a regular sandstorm. What lay before him now was a sand spirit.
Not only could it form rapidly near an oasis, but it also seemed to carry a bizarre, supernatural force. In the end, it would even destroy the water source itself.
This was something he had never encountered before, neither in his past life nor in his current one.
Shane took a deep breath, forcing his mind to stay clear as various solutions flashed through his head. Should he lay down straw checkerboards immediately to help the plants withstand the storm? Use the Living Soil Pouch to forcefully grow a protective barrier of vegetation? Or construct a physical wall using his undead creations?
Each option presented itself, but for him right now, every second counted.
“What's the matter?”
Sern's voice rang out again. She emerged from the tent, her greatsword already strapped to her back and a sand-resistant robe thrown over her shoulders.
She tilted her head, a mocking smile curling her lips as she looked at the silent crowd. “A sand spirit has appeared. Aren't you all going to run?”
“Or do you actually plan on staying here to die with this necromancer?”
Her gaze swept over everyone present, her expression shifting into one of mock pity. “Think about it. What he's doing does sound quite moving. Planting trees all by himself in a godforsaken place like this—how noble.”
“But here's the catch: a necromancer is still a necromancer. He can't even protect this oasis, so what makes you think he can keep planting?”
Seeing no reaction from the crowd, Sern's tone grew increasingly sarcastic. “Are you really planning to play along with his little show and go down with him?”
With a sneer, she stopped caring about their reactions. She turned around and marched toward the edge of the camp.
Her steps were light and swift. Within a few breaths, she had already covered a hundred meters.
“Your Highness.”
Once Sern was gone, Olen approached the princess and spoke earnestly. “From a rational standpoint, evacuating is our only sensible option right now. Though the oasis is valuable, lives are more important. As long as we survive, we can always rebuild it.”
He cast a subtle glance at Shane before adding, “According to years of investigation by the Council, though the mechanism behind a sand spirit's formation remains unclear, its targets are almost always areas teeming with life. In other words, this oasis is exactly what it is aiming for.”
“Staying here will only invite unnecessary danger.”
His words were entirely logical, leaving no room for argument.
Though the surrounding guards remained silent, the look in their eyes betrayed their true thoughts.
Just then, a sudden rustling came from the edge of the camp.
The sand bulged, and a dark figure burst out from beneath the earth.
It was Sara. She seemed far more anxious than usual. The moment she surfaced, she rushed straight toward Elon, her massive pincers waving restlessly as she let out sharp, frantic screeches.
Elon listened closely, his brow furrowing deeper by the second. Once Sara finished, he turned to face the crowd with a bitter smile. “Sara says the sand spirit is forming incredibly fast. Even underground, she could feel powerful, chaotic earth elements merging with a deathly aura. By her estimate, the storm will completely swallow this oasis in a matter of hours at most.”
He looked at everyone, his deep voice carrying a grim warning. “She also said that unless an exceptionally powerful force of life stands guard here, the plants, the water source, and everything else will be completely eroded. Nothing will survive.”
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as everyone's eyes fell upon the princess once more.
Standing to the side, Shane remained silent. He knew that the power to decide no longer rested in his hands.
The people here had stayed because of the princess, not because of a necromancer. He had no control over what choice she would make.
Perhaps this was his end.
Rate on N.U.
