Shadow Slave

During the day, the desert was like hell. The small, ruthless sun bathed the pristine white world in suffocating heat, making the Awakened feel as if their bodies and minds were slowly being dissolved into the blinding white radiance.

Mundane humans would not have lasted even a single day in this scorching inferno, but even the experienced Awakened warriors were struggling to persevere. If not for the fact that they had come prepared... the soldiers of Valor shivered despite the unbearable heat when imagining how agonizing such a journey would have been.

The government soldiers pulled into this hell by the Call never stood a chance. After all, the probability of them possessing Memories to mitigate the heat and create unlimited reserves of water was slim, not to mention other dangers.

Most importantly, they would not have had a map.

The rough map created by the scouts of the great clan was, without a doubt, the most vital distinction between Warren's squad and those poor fools.

Because, while the desert was like hell during the day, it was infinitely more harrowing during the night. The heat retreated, replaced by murderous cold... and the dead soldiers of the ancient armies that had once clashed in this land rose from the sand to continue their eternal battle.

This had been one of the last battlefields in the world-ending war between the Demons and the Gods - considering who had fought and fallen here, even the cursed remains of the ancient soldiers were too dreadful for mere mortals to face.

If there was one mercy in the white desert, it was that these accursed remnants were too powerful to enter the waking world through the lesser Nightmare Gates.

...Of course, there were countless other Nightmare Creatures populating the white dunes, as well. These abominations were not restricted to only moving at night, and even though they preferred to stick to the shadows, Mordret and his companions had to fight more than a few horrors as they traveled across the desert.

The heat, the blinding light, the constant danger of being attacked by swarms of frenzied Nightmare Creatures...

'Irritating.'

Mordret pierced the body of a swift abomination with his sword, then bashed it with his shield, throwing the creature back and off his blade. Sweat was rolling down his face, and his helmet felt as hot as an oven. Even the charm he was using to keep himself cool seemed to be struggling, despite the fact that it was hungrily devouring more and more essence.

By his side, someone swayed and fell to their knees.

With its momentum broken, others attacked from the

down and helped the

sorry, Warren. The heat got

Mordret shook his head.

some water. This

of the swarm. All of them seemed tired, their

"Warren, can we rest?"

carefree voice sounded strained and

the

we don't reach the destination before sunfall. Ah, don't look

to another following the map that the Ascended

were drawing close to the end

the blood off his sword and hung his shield

on, men! We have already been held back by these vermin

veteran elites followed

approached one of the ruins that protruded from beneath the sand like a black obelisk. The ancient structure was broken and tilted to one side, its purpose and original shape long erased by the passage of

lone light ignited in the depths of the shadow and blinked a few times, relaying a coded message. Mordret summoned a luminous Memory and covered it with his

that, they proceed toward the

clad in heavy armor of black steel. Even surrounded by the scorching heat of the hellish desert, the man seemed intrepid and

Shtad was as fearsome as

his shoulder, and a pile

bowed, pretending

is good to

for a few moments, and then