A giant column of black smoke rose to the sky in the Great Desert. As the flames scorched the ground, all vegetation on one side of the Wailing Canyon was reduced to charcoal and ash, together with countless warriors of the Sand Walkers' tribe.

Gerald's flames slowly died down as he landed on the edge of the canyon, staring out across the scorched earth towards the few hundred remaining nomad tribesmen.

They exchanged hateful gazes while gripping their weapons even tighter. Despite the distance between the two sides, one thing was painfully clear. They wanted to do nothing less than to tear him into a thousand pieces and feed his entrails to the beasts of the desert.

But the sentiment was mutual. Gerald also had nothing nice to say about these people. If he had any energy left he wouldn't have simply left them standing there, intact.

In fact, he was currently completely dry. He exhausted every single drop of Mana in that last attack. Looking back at it, he might have been a bit reckless.

Luckily his recovery was stupidly fast, regenerating 1MP almost every other second. He just needed time.

'Come on, get your asses over here,' Gerald thought as he glanced down into the canyon. If the nomads grew some balls and attacked him right now, he would have no option but to flee. Unless he wanted to burn through his stockpile of scrolls, something he was currently unwilling to do.

'Fuck it, I'll have to bluff to buy me some time.'

He inhaled sharply as he circulated some Mana in his body. After completely exhausting himself against the Sand Worm, neither his body nor Soul had completely recovered. And now he did it again, aggravating his wounds.

Now every breath he took was accompanied by pain, and the headache he got from utilizing magic was just as brutal! It had been a while since he felt so like shit.

"Now what?!" He roared across the scorched wasteland. "Why are you just standing there, come at me! I took down a hundred of your warriors, what's a few more?!"

He showed a strong front, but inside he was cursing. 'Fuck that's painful. I really hope they don't attack me, I can't take them all at once…'

"You might as well run away while you still have the chance! Once I change my mind you'll all have to surrender your lives to me!"

His sharp words were like gasoline poured on the fire. The Sand Walkers started shouting back, but due to the distance, their unamplified words didn't make any sense. It was just a sea of unintelligible screams and insults.

Soon after, a few of the nomads started waving their hands around while chanting, stimulating the sand and molten rocks to uncover a path amid the inferno. Quickly more of them joined in, overturning the ground and putting out flames at an ever-greater scale.

It was actually quite amazing to watch how quickly they completely changed the landscape with only a few hundred people.

'Oh, crap… They are actually going to do it? I'm not fighting all that, hell no! Screw you guys, I'm going home!' Or at least that's what he thought. But the inhabitants of the Wailing Canyon, under the leadership of Dug of all people, rushed out of their hole like mad ants at that moment, ready to defend their home.

"Everyone! Gerald is here! He held back the entire army by himself just to protect us, let's help him!"

And so, two armies of a few hundred soldiers stared daggers at each other, just a stone's throw apart. A single wrong word and a massacre would immediately take place.

The men of the canyon shook their weapons and shouted, puffing out their chests and displaying extreme unity as they chanted battle cries.

And the other side, the Sand Walkers, displayed a sort of tribal war dance to scare their enemy and lift their own morale. It was almost like two peacocks posturing before a fight.

"Last chance! Leave or surrender! Chose one of the two, because the third option is DEATH!" Gerald roared, his powerful voice amplified by magic carried across the desert.

Then the ground around him shook and quickly formed the Golem Armor around him. With Titan's Bulwark in one hand and the Toothpick in the other, the meaning was clear. They had to make a decision. Now!

As he struggled to maintain his creation, Gerald's eyes scanned the enemy on the other side. The tribesmen all looked the same to him, with no clear leader. But he knew there had to be one unless he already killed him, which seemed unlikely.

"Aha! Found you…" He smiled through gritted teeth. In the background, almost blending into the sand, stood a figure, covered from head to toe in loose clothing the same color as the sand. But that was the same attire as the rest of them, so how did he know?

It was the eyes, it was always the eyes. While the rest had a wild and angry look, this guy had a completely calm expression. His eyes were cold and calculating, and above all, he never let Gerald out of his sight.

***

The Chieftan was observing the enemy, calculating, scheming how to take him down, as a proper leader should. Also, he didn't fall for the stone man's bluff, nobody did. He already exhausted his energy, that's why he was even posturing.

After the bloody fight would begin, he would make his way there, crack open the shell and scoop out the weakling inside.

He grinned, it was going to be so easy!

"We are all waiting for your answer, Chief!" Gerald shouted again, lifting his hand and pointing with the Toothpick. "You are wasting my time, Chief! I don't like such disrespectful people!"

The Sand Walker Chieftain's body jolted as the stone giant pointed at him, but he quickly got himself under control. It was just a coincidence, it had to be. There was no way he was discovered so quickly.

But then came a sudden flash of light, and his sleeve burst open with steam and smoke.

"AARGH!" A shout escaped his mouth before he even had the chance to contain it. Pain! So much pain! And it all came out of nowhere! A perfectly round hole was burned through his clothes, and underneath was a gaping wound of charred flesh, straight to the bone!

"Chief! You are still not answering me, Chief!" Gerald's voice carried a mocking undertone. "Are you sure you want to do this? Eh, Chief?"

The Chieftain gritted his teeth and looked at the source of the voice. There was no doubt, somehow the man knew. But not all was over. He still had his left hand. If only he coul-

"AARGH!" Another searing pain and another puff of smoke erupted from his body, this time from his left leg.

And as if that wasn't enough, a cold voice spoke right beside his ear.

"Are you deaf? When I said I'll kill you, I meant it."

The Chieftain jerked around, striking with his weapon, only to strike empty air. There was nobody behind him. It must have been the wind.

He was sweating, bleeding, and shaking in fear, all at once.

"Last chance!" Came a thundering voice. At the same time spheres of flames started forming around the stone giant.

"No, wait! We'll leave!" The Chieftain shouted, his mouth moving faster than his mind could act. "We'll leave right now and never return!"

The rest of the Sand Walkers were confused and angry, but as they turned around and saw the state of their leader, they nearly had a stroke!

Why does the chief look like he has just seen a ghost, and why was he bleeding?! They quickly gathered around him and helped him stand, which he had difficulties doing by himself.

"GO!" Came the last warning, accompanied by a Greater Fireball that struck the ground just a few meters away from them. The fiery explosion had blasted rocks and sand and served as a final warning should anyone try to do anything stupid.

With unwillingness in their eyes and hate in their hearts, the Sand Walkers left with heavy steps. And as soon as they disappeared behind the first sand dune, Gerald's Golem Armor collapsed together with him inside.