Chapter 212: Attacking the Settlement.

Inside a massive tent used as an inn, within one of the partitioned areas, Thoren sat cross-legged on the ground, lost in thought.

He carefully processed everything he had learned from Tahlia, replaying her words over and over in his mind. Each detail carried weight, and none could be ignored.

Even though he had not planned to spend a long time on the second floor, he now realized he could not overwhelm it as easily as he had done on the first floor.

This place was fundamentally different. The rules had changed, and so had the nature of survival.

Threats did not come only from beasts.

They came from the Dune Scavengers and the Bleeding Desert itself.

To him, the Dune Scavengers and the Bleeding Desert were the true dangers lurking beneath everything else.

“I need to be wary of the Bleeding Desert,” he murmured quietly.

That was the greatest threat.

He could defeat beasts without much difficulty. He could even fight against the Dune Scavengers.

However, could he defeat the very desert beneath his feet?

That was impossible.

He drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Then he turned his head toward the window. Through the loose flap, he could see people moving back and forth without rest.

There was no real difference between night and day in this place. A blood red hue blanketed the Bleeding Desert from every direction.

Above, the two blood moons hung silently in the sky, watching everything below like eternal sentinels.

They observed without emotion.

They judged without mercy.

They watched the futile struggles of every creature trapped within this world.

Averting his gaze, Thoren reached into his inventory and retrieved the Hemal Shard along with the map of the Scorched Outskirts.

He held both items in his hands and studied them intently.

If he wanted to grow stronger quickly, everything would depend on these two items.

The map was crudely drawn and lacked precision. Only a few notable locations were marked across its surface.

Apart from the human gathering areas, several zones were marked as dangerous.

Why dangerous?

Those were the regions frequently visited by the Dune Scavengers.

Without sufficient strength, it was advised to avoid those areas at all costs. Many had learned that lesson the hard way.

“I guess I will start from there,” he said under his breath.

Others might avoid such places, but he had no intention of doing so.

If he wanted to grow stronger quickly and stand a chance of finding his sister, he could not afford to take the safest path.

He needed the risk.

He needed the danger.

More importantly, he had begun to enjoy it.

The thrill of battle had already taken root within him.

The feeling of commanding the battlefield while his undead legion tore through enemies was something he had grown to relish.

That power was intoxicating.

He returned the Hemal Shard and the map to his inventory before lying down on the rough mat beneath him. His eyes slowly closed as he prepared to rest for a short while.

He only intended to sleep for an hour.

Once he left, he did not know when he would return again.

Because of that, he wanted to gather as much rest as possible before venturing out once more.

Time passed quietly.

Within the tent, everything appeared calm and undisturbed.

Outside, however, an unseen danger crept closer with every passing second.

Nearly a kilometer away from the settlement, massive Sand Hounds trudged through the desert sands.

Their heavy bodies moved steadily as they climbed over dunes, their claws digging into the loose terrain.

For a brief moment, the Sand Hounds stopped moving.

They remained still.

Low, feral snorts escaped their mouths as they stared ahead.

Seated atop their backs were the Dune Scavengers.

Their eyes burned with savage killing intent. In their hands were crudely crafted weapons, ranging from jagged blades to bone shaped clubs.

Some wore rough leather armor, stitched together from the hides of beasts.

Their eyes glowed faintly.

A deep crimson light pulsed within them.

Without a single word spoken, they began to advance toward the settlement.

At first, their movement was slow and deliberate. Then gradually, they picked up speed.

The sand beneath their feet erupted into the air, forming a growing cloud of dust that trailed behind them like a storm.

Back at the camp, people moved about as usual, unaware of the impending danger.

Some were preparing to leave for hunting expeditions, while others returned from battles, carrying harvested materials.

Everything seemed normal.

A group of awakeners had just stepped out of the camp, ready to head deeper into the desert.

One of them suddenly paused and narrowed his eyes toward the horizon.

“Wait,” a young man said, raising his staff.

“What is that?”

He pointed toward the distant cloud of sand.

For a moment, their captain did not react. His expression remained blank as he stared into the distance.

Then realization struck him like lightning.

His face drained of color.

“DUNE SCAVENGER!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Run!”

A brief silence permeant the air for a fews second.

Then chaos erupted.

Screams filled the air as panic spread through the camp like wildfire. People rushed in every direction, abandoning whatever they were doing.

Some scrambled to gather their belongings. Others fled immediately without looking back.

Fear consumed them all.

Those who had little to carry ran the fastest. Those burdened by possessions struggled to keep up.

Within moments, the entire settlement descended into complete disorder.

Inside the tent, Thoren’s eyes snapped open.

He rose to his feet instantly.

The faint noise outside had already reached him before the shouting began. Now, the full scale of the panic became clear.

He stepped out of his partitioned area and saw the tent owner rushing around frantically.

“Get out!” the man shouted repeatedly. “Get out now!”

His voice was filled with dread and urgency.

Thoren did not hesitate.

He stepped outside the tent and immediately heard the chaotic cries echoing through the air.

“Dune Scavengers!”

“Help me!”

“My arm!”

“No, please!”

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