The King Of Warriors (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5512

On the wasteland, the sandstorm raged on. Gale-fed grit howled like rabid beasts, careening across the open emptiness. The roar sounded ancient— a primeval monster that commanded awe even before it was seen.

Jared forged the lead, Flaxseed a step behind. Every stride buried their boots, and each new lift felt heavier than the last.

Needles of sand peppered their skin, drawing pinpricks of pain, yet they never slowed.

Days bled together, and still not a whisper of the Sixth Hall surfaced.

Out here they were no bigger than twin grains of sand, tossed whichever way fate fancied.

This wasteland on level seven felt forsaken— the very air starved of celestial energy, the ground a testament to cruelty.

Little wonder rival factions had nearly killed each other for a single trickle of a celestial spring.

Jared could not guess how wide the desert sprawled, or when it would end. He wanted to fly out, but it would drain the spiritual energy he could not spare.

With supplies thin, he saved every drop of strength he could whenever death was not nipping at his heels.

"Jared, we've been walking for days," Flaxseed shouted over the wind. "I haven't even seen another traveler, never mind the Sixth Hall."

He dragged a sleeve across his sand-caked face, frustration etched in every line.

The desert had split his already weathered skin, leaving it dry and raw beneath the grit.

Jared halted, scanning the endless waste with a furrowed brow, weighing paths that existed only in his mind.

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