Back inside the rock formation, chaos ruled.
The sand wyrm reacted to Shane's charge. Its massive tail whipped around in a wide arc, moving faster than something that size ever should.
But Shane, with his abomination form, reacted faster. Not with awareness, but with pure instinct.
The tail slammed down where Shane had been a heartbeat earlier.
Stone exploded outward. Sand burst up like a crashing wave, blasting against the surrounding rock walls. The impact sent vibrations rippling through the formation, and cracks raced across nearby pillars as debris rained down.
Shane didn't look back. He was already airborne.
The tail slammed down where Shane had been a heartbeat earlier.
Stone exploded outward. Sand burst up like a crashing wave, blasting against the surrounding rock walls. The impact sent violent vibrations through the formation, and long cracks raced across nearby pillars as chunks of debris tore free and rained down.
Twisting mid-leap, Shane's warped body angled sharply, claws extended. He slammed into the wyrm's side, long metallic talons raking across layered scales. Sparks sprayed in every direction as metal scraped against hardened armor. The noise was unbearable—like blades grinding across a cliff face.
The abomination screeched.
Not in pain.
In irritation.
He struck again. And again.
Each blow was wild, overextended, and reckless. There was no technique, no restraint—only the simple urge to destroy something larger than itself. The wyrm shifted its weight, sliding half a step through the sand. The attacks annoyed it more than they harmed it.
Then the wyrm struck back.
A massive claw swept sideways.
It connected.
The impact launched the abomination across the open basin. Shane's body skidded dozens of meters through sand and shattered stone, carving a deep trench before slamming into a broken rock wall with a heavy crack. Dust rolled outward in choking clouds as loose stones clattered down.
For a moment, Shane lay still.
He rose with a jerking motion. His spine straightened with a loud, wet snap that echoed between the rock walls. Thick black blood poured from a deep gash across his chest, soaking into the sand at his feet. The wound was brutal—torn wide, flesh barely holding together.
He tilted his head.
And smiled.
The stitched mouth stretched wider as black threads wriggled and tightened. Flesh crawled unnaturally, pulling itself back together. Threads bit deep, stitching muscle and bone with sickening speed. Within seconds, the gash sealed shut, leaving only dark seams behind.
Shane slapped his chest once, as if checking the repair.
Then he laughed.
It was a broken, hollow sound, echoing across the open space like something mocking the world itself.
The sand wyrm slowed.
Its massive head lowered slightly, eyes narrowing as it watched the regeneration happen right in front of it. A low rumble rolled from deep in its throat. It was not rage.
It was caution.
The abomination did not understand.
It screamed and charged again.
This time, Shane ran straight at the wyrm's head. His claws scraped sparks off exposed stone as he closed the distance. The wyrm snapped its jaws shut, the force sending shockwaves through the ground.
Shane twisted aside.
Not fast enough.
One arm was torn clean off at the elbow.
The severed limb hit the sand with a dull thud.
The abomination did not even flinch.
Black blood sprayed, but Shane slammed his remaining claws into the wyrm's jaw and scrambled up its face like a feral beast. He clung to scales and ridges, digging metal fingers in wherever they would hold.
The wyrm thrashed violently.
Its massive head smashed into nearby rock pillars, trying to shake the creature loose. The stone cracked under the repeated impacts. Pillars collapsed inward, sending rubble crashing into the basin.
At last, the wyrm tore Shane free.
Shane flew through the air and slammed back into the ground in a tangled heap. Its missing arm twitched behind it. Black threads spilled from the stump, writhing like living things.
Bone reformed with sharp cracks.
Metal and flesh stitched themselves together, crooked and uneven, but functional.
Shane clenched the new claw.
Satisfied.
The sand wyrm backed away half a step. Sand shifted beneath its immense weight. The glow in its throat brightened, heat rolling outward as fire gathered once more.
Shane laughed.
And charged straight into the flames.
Fire engulfed Shane completely. Black smoke spiraled into the open air as stitched flesh burned and peeled away. The heat distorted the air above the basin. Any normal creature would have been reduced to ash in seconds.
Something still moved inside the inferno.
A claw burst through the fire.
Then another.
The abomination staggered out, body charred and smoking. Threads glowed red-hot as they stitched even while burning. Skin fell away in strips, only to crawl back into place.
The wyrm recoiled.
For the first time, fear flickered in its massive eyes.
Still, it did not flee.
It dug its claws into the sand, tail coiling behind it, body braced. The abomination slowed, smoke rolling off its body. For a brief moment, it tilted its head, as if confused.
Then it straightened.
Shane rose to his full height. Scorched flesh continued knitting together as black threads snapped tight like drawn wires. He threw his head back toward the broken sky framed by jagged stone walls.
And roared.
The sound was not just loud.
It was wrong.
The roar tore out of the remaining stitches on his mouth like something being ripped apart. It felt less like noise and more like pressure. The air itself compressed, then burst outward.
The entire rock formation shuddered.
Stone screamed. Cracks spiderwebbed across pillars and broken arches. Loose slabs tore free and crashed into the basin below. Sand lifted from the ground in rippling waves, racing outward from Shane as if alive.
Beyond the formation, the desert answered.
Dunes collapsed in slow motion. Buried stones surfaced. The vast sea of sand rumbled, the vibration rolling for kilometers in every direction.
The sand wyrm did not retreat.
Instead, it answered.
The massive creature roared back, claws digging deep into the sand as it sucked in air. The orange glow in its throat flared brighter than ever—molten and furious. Then it unleashed its own roar, deep and ancient, slamming forward like a wall.
The two roars collided.
The air exploded.
A violent shockwave tore through the open space. Sparks burst everywhere—stone grinding against stone, scales scraping metal claws, raw force shredding the ground beneath them. Both monsters were driven back a step, then surged forward again.
Fire and sparks filled the basin as the two forces slammed together once more. Neither advanced. Neither gave ground.
It was a stalemate.
***
Far away, on another battlefield, Klaus staggered as he landed on a dune after dodging the sand wyrm's initial charge. The ground shook violently beneath him—far stronger than before.
He frowned.
"This one's different," he muttered.
The wyrm he faced had not moved. Its head was raised, body tense, eyes turned toward the distant rock formation instead of Klaus.
Klaus instinctively lowered the Devil's Arm, eyes narrowing.
"…That's not you," he muttered, glancing at the sand wyrm he was facing.
Then he smirked faintly.
"So you finally snapped, Shane."
***
High above, heated air currents churned violently. Zevy flapped hard, wings adjusting as the shockwave reached them even at altitude. The wind shoved against his body, forcing him higher.
Clinging between his feathers, Cukuz peeked over the edge.
The tiny familiar stared down at the distant flashes of fire and sparks. The roar echoed faintly, but it still made his chest buzz.
His master's roar.
Cukuz's eyes shone with admiration. He puffed out his chest proudly and let out a small, excited chirp, pumping a tiny fist.
Zevy clicked his beak sharply and climbed higher, wings beating hard as he carried them away from the trembling airspace.
***
Outside the formation, the party staggered as the earth shook beneath them. The sand worms around them stopped mid-charge, disturbed by the clashing roars.
Kiel grabbed Ulon's arm. "Is that even fighting?!"
Ulon grimaced, teeth rattling. "Nope. That's two disasters arguing."
Maddy exhaled slowly. "Good. Let them tear each other down. Boss, with his creepy transformation, will be on top for sure."
Petra snapped, already swinging her scythe toward two approaching worms. "Focus, maggots! We're still in the middle of a fight!"
Shalotte protested weakly, "We're not maggots!"
Petra didn't look back. "You will be. If you drop your guard."