Drago glanced at Vale with an unreadable expression, his weathered face giving nothing away. Vale finished speaking, the question hanging in the air like a held breath. For a long moment, Drago said nothing.

  Then he finally opened his mouth, his voice flat, almost disinterested.

  “Try to survive,” he said, “before trying to kill it.”

  Vale stared at him, nerves tightening in his chest. His fingers curled unconsciously around the hilt of his blade. Before he could respond, Eskar spoke, his tone sharp with urgency.

  “Someone needs to distract it,” he said. “Getting a blade between its eyes will be nearly impossible if both claws are focused on the same target.”

  Vale swallowed and turned his gaze back toward the scorpion.

  It was enormous, far larger than either of them had truly registered at first glance. Its carapace was obsidian black, polished and segmented, catching the sunlight in dull, jagged reflections. The stinger arched high above its body, thick and barbed, easily the most lethal part of it. One clean strike from that thing would mean death.

  But the claws were no less terrifying.

  Each was nearly half the size of a grown man, snapping together with a sound like sharpened blades colliding. They flexed with unnatural precision, opening and closing as if testing the air. Beneath the carapace, eight powerful legs moved in a steady, deliberate rhythm, pushing the creature across the sand with eerie smoothness.

  The scorpion never stayed still.

  It prowled in slow, searching arcs, its body subtly shifting direction with every step. Each movement brought it closer. It wasn’t charging. It wasn’t panicking.

  It was hunting.

  And it had found them.

  Vale and Eskar exchanged a brief look, one of those silent understandings forged through shared danger.

  “I’ll distract it with my flames,” Eskar said, straightening as he stepped forward.

  Vale immediately snapped to his feet.

  “Hey, no,” he said sharply. “You don’t get to decide that on your own.”

  Eskar turned his head slightly, opening his mouth to argue,

  but a deep, grinding roar rolled across the dunes, vibrating through the sand beneath their feet.

  The scorpion turned fully toward them.

  Its clustered eyes locked onto their position, and its claws began to click together in a slow, deliberate rhythm, a threat, a promise of violence.

  Drago sighed heavily.

  “Now look what you two did,” he said blandly.

  A heartbeat passed.

  Then Eskar moved.

  He drew his onyx blade in a smooth, practiced motion and shouted, “Go left!”

  Vale didn’t hesitate. He nodded once and broke into a sprint, veering sharply to the opposite side. Sand sprayed beneath his boots as he ran.

  Behind them, Drago’s voice carried across the dunes, calm but deadly serious.

  “Remember, boys, hesitation means death in this place.”

  Vale and Eskar ran in opposite directions, circling wide through the soft sand. For a moment, the scorpion tracked them both, its body rotating unnaturally as it assessed its prey.

  Then it chose.

  Vale felt it instantly.

  The weight of the creature’s attention slammed into him like pressure on his chest. He hissed under his breath and adjusted his footing, abandoning any thought of retreat.

  Instead, he charged.

  Unlike the wounded scorpion he had seen earlier, slaughtered by a sand dragon, this one was uninjured, alert, and terrifyingly precise. Every movement was calculated. Every step was controlled.

  The scorpion surged forward, raising one massive claw as it did.

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  Vale forced himself to focus. He tracked the angle of its legs, the tension in the joints of its carapace, the subtle shift in its balance. He couldn’t afford to miss a single movement.

  The claw came down like a falling wall.

  Vale sidestepped at the last possible instant. The impact sent sand exploding into the air, the force of it rattling his bones. He slammed his blade against the joint of the claw, redirecting it just enough to bury it deep into the sand where he had stood a moment earlier.

  The scorpion didn’t pause.

  In one brutal motion, it swung the same claw sideways like a hammer. The blow caught Vale mid-step, sending him flying through the air.

  He hit the ground hard, rolling once before forcing himself upright. His lungs burned as he coughed, boots digging into the sand as he regained his footing a few meters away.

  The scorpion turned toward him again.

  Its eyes burned with raw, instinctive bloodlust.

  The stinger struck.

  Vale looked up just in time. He twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the full force of the blow. The stinger screeched against his armor, scraping metal as it glanced off the plating.

  Using the momentum, Vale drove his blade upward and caught the stinger, forcing it down into the sand with a grunt of effort.

  The scorpion shrieked, a piercing, rage-filled sound that tore through the air.

  And that was when Eskar struck.

  He had already reached the creature, boots scraping against its slick carapace as he climbed onto its back. Moving fast, he raised his blade and positioned it carefully between the clustered eyes.

  “Forgot about me?” he muttered.

  He drove the blade down.

  But the scorpion was not dead.

  With a violent, panicked motion, it wrenched its stinger free and whipped it backward, slamming it into Eskar with devastating force. The impact sent Eskar flying from its back.

  At the same time, Vale lost his grip as the stinger tore free, the recoil throwing him off his feet as well.

  Both men crashed into the sand several meters apart.

  Vale groaned, coughing as blood filled his mouth. He forced himself upright and looked back.

  His blade was still embedded deep in the scorpion’s stinger.

  Eskar’s blade remained lodged between its eyes, right in the kill spot, but not deep enough.

  The scorpion thrashed wildly, shrieking in rage and pain, its massive claws scraping uselessly at both weapons, unable to dislodge either.

  Vale wiped blood from his lips and glanced at Eskar.

  “Any ideas,” he asked hoarsely, “now that our blades are gone?”

  Eskar steadied himself, eyes locked on the wounded beast. He thought quickly, chest rising and falling as he measured their options.

  “If you can help me climb its back again,” he said, “I can ignite the blade. If it goes wrong, forcing it straight down will still be easier, the blade’s already in the right place.”

  Vale spat blood into the sand and nodded grimly.

  “Yeah,” he said. “You’re right. Let’s wait for an opening.”

  They turned together toward the scorpion.

  The creature roared, failing again and again to free the weapons impaling it. Sand churned beneath its legs as it lashed out in fury.

  Vale and Eskar didn’t hesitate.

  They rushed in, ready to end the hunt.

  As they rushed in, the scorpion noticed immediately.

  Its body shifted with terrifying speed, eight legs driving into the sand as it anchored itself in a combat stance. The ground trembled beneath its weight. Its attention snapped to Eskár first.

  Both claws came down at once.

  Eskar twisted aside, heat flaring at his heels as the first claw slammed into the sand where he had stood a heartbeat earlier. The second followed instantly, too fast to fully evade. It struck his side and sent him flying, his body skidding across the dunes before he managed to roll and recover.

  Vale came in from the left.

  The scorpion reacted without hesitation. Its remaining stinger arched and crashed down toward him like a falling spear.

  Vale moved on instinct alone.

  The world slowed, not truly, but enough that every sound stretched, every grain of sand seemed to hang in the air. He twisted past the strike by inches, feeling the displaced air scrape against his armor.

  And then he saw it.

  His blade, still embedded in the scorpion’s stinger.

  Vale grinned.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  He grabbed the hilt with both hands and ripped.

  Steel screamed against chitin as he tore through the stinger in a brutal, arcing cut, severing it cleanly. The stinger fell into the sand with a wet, heavy thud.

  The scorpion shrieked, raw, furious agony echoing across the dunes.

  One of its claws snapped toward Vale in blind retaliation.

  Vale threw himself backward, the massive pincer slicing through the space his body had occupied a moment earlier. Sand exploded as the claw passed overhead.

  Vale twisted mid-motion, shifting his grip on the blade, and drove forward again. He brought the weapon around in a vicious backhanded strike, slamming the flat of the blade into the scorpion’s jaw with all his weight behind it.

  The impact staggered the creature.

  But Vale had overextended.

  The scorpion’s right claw snapped shut around him.

  Pain exploded through his body.

  The crushing force pressed in from all sides, sharp edges biting into his armor as the air was forced from his lungs in a strangled scream. He felt his chest compress, felt the armor scream under the pressure. Without it, he knew, he would have been torn in half.

  Vale screamed and braced his feet against the sand, muscles screaming as he fought the scorpion’s brute strength with everything he had left. His arms shook violently as he forced the claw apart, just enough.

  Just long enough.

  Eskar struck.

  He vaulted onto the scorpion’s back once more, boots scraping against its burning carapace. He grabbed the hilt of the blade still buried between its eyes.

  The scorpion thrashed wildly, trying to bring what remained of its stinger around, but it was too late.

  Eskar grinned.

  His hand ignited.

  Flames erupted, not outward, but inward, pouring through the blade and into the scorpion’s body. Fire flooded its insides, roaring through veins and organs alike, leaving nowhere to flee.

  The scorpion released Vale in blind panic.

  It staggered, shrieking as it ran in a final, desperate frenzy, legs failing beneath it. The flames consumed it from within, burning brighter with every step.

  Seconds later, the beast collapsed.

  Dead as the flames consumed it.

  Eskar remained standing atop its shell, chest heaving as the fire faded.

  Vale dropped to the sand, gasping for breath. His hands shook as he pressed them into the ground, lungs burning as he dragged in air. After a long moment, he looked up at Eskar.

  Their eyes met.

  Vale let out a weak, breathless laugh and managed a faint smile.

  They had won.