A lack of human contact for extended periods was known to cause extreme stress in most social animals, and humans were no different. A lack of social variety was much better, but by no means fantastic for the mind.

  For most, being stuck trudging through the desert, an already extremely stressful scenario, plus a lack of social variety would lead to a group becoming frayed at the edges. Some would miss their families, others their best friends. This added stress almost always led to friction, even if only a small amount.

  For the Warcrime Crew, however, it was a normal Elsday. A lack of familial contact? No access to their best friends? What are you talking about, their best friends right there, trapped with them, along with all their research material. Where would they rather be? Did they perhaps have an unhealthy relationship with Voran stemming from years of being social outcasts? That doesn’t seem relevant.

  Suffice it to say, everyone in Rowan’s party was doing fine, even after three long weeks in the desert. Time in which, much to Rowan’s chagrin, there had not been a single monster. It seemed the plan in this area was to slowly desiccate any unprepared Delvers until they were nothing but dried husks.

  At least, that had been the prevailing theory…

  “What the hell is that!” Ark shouted.

  In the distance, two titans clashed, sending waves of sand into the unnaturally still desert air. What looked like a gargantuan Horned Viper attempted to curl around and bite… Was that a fucking dragon!

  ‘Oh fuck yeah!’ Rowan couldn’t help but think before his rational mind caught up with him. While a fight with it would be amazing, he didn’t actually have a way to damage such titanous beings. In a rare display of forethought, he decided to hang back and think for a moment.

  In recent weeks, ever since his training with Falnier, he noticed his thoughts flowed more smoothly than before. He still felt his aggression and battlelust beneath the surface, but it was like before he reincarnated now. It was a manageable part of his personality, not an overwhelming instinct.

  Maybe all that meditation had done him well in the end? Or perhaps his skills now no longer affected him even passively because of the shield of Authority around his mind? That didn’t seem to fully add up, but either way, he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Ark was the first to break the silence as they continued to watch the distant fight.

  “Wow, a real wyvern. I never thought I’d see one up close.” Her eyes shone with reverence.

  “Oh? I assumed it was a dragon.”

  “What! How could you mistake a- Oh yeah, outworlder. My bad.” Vorn could have wept, finally someone knew his pain!

  “Anyway, a dragon is, first of all, way larger. That wyvern is large, probably at least a few hundred feet long tip to tail, but even an infant dragon is larger than that, if only slightly. Second, take a close look at its features. Reptilian eyes, matte murky colored scales, and wings that function as its arms instead of actual front legs. Real dragons are shinier, have solid colored eyes akin to gemstones, and have four legs.” Ark explained, never once taking her eyes off the distant kaiju fight.

  “Thanks for the info. Forgive me for thinking bacteria were your only interest.” Rowan joked. Of course, only those close to him could discern anything comedic from that, given his classic deadpan tone.

  Ark just rolled her eyes, “If you can’t see why someone well versed in all microbiology-” Someone didn’t take the bacteria comment well, “would be interested in reptiles, then that’s on you.” Ark said that as if her point was meant to be obvious, but Rowan was still very much confused as to her point, which must have shown on his face.

  “Wait, really? Do you not have reptiles that specifically cultivate hazardous bacteria in your world?” Ark asked incredulously.

  “I don’t think so? Maybe. I never was very interested in lizards. Even if I was, I don’t know that I’d know that.” Rowan said.

  “I- Fair enough.” Ark had been in enough arguments in the past to know that most people, in fact, did not know an inordinate amount about niche microbiology topics. The urge to educate and explain danced at the edge of her mind a bit, but she crushed it under the boot of practicality. No one needed to learn about such an unimportant topic. She understood that perfectly well.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Well? Aren’t you going to explain?” Rowan asked.

  “Huh? Didn’t you just say you didn’t care about reptiles?” Ark asked.

  “That’s never stopped Vorn from telling me all about his magic stuff. Besides, more knowledge is never a negative.” Vorn was about to call out the subtle dig, but stopped once he saw how Ark’s eyes shone.

  “So basically, some reptiles, and amphibians but that's a different topic, purposely have a symbiotic relationship with what we would consider harmful bacteria. Some gain this bacteria through eating carrion or other sources of dangerous microbes, but others seem to have fully evolved in concert with-”

  — — —

  After seeing the Kaiju battle in the distance, it was decided that it wasn’t safe to move unconcealed anymore. Not without knowing where exactly the monsters were hiding. Unlike video game dungeons that Rowan was only passingly familiar with, real dungeons didn’t “Spawn” monsters. Not typically, at least.

  No, dungeon monsters have life cycles just like any other creature, though usually, they have much faster maturation rates. Of course, at any time, the Mad God could spawn a monster wherever he wishes, he just doesn’t normally.

  The reason this is relevant is that despite only seeing two creatures in this massive desert, their sheer size meant that it was confusing that they hadn’t seen any earlier.

  This meant one of a couple of things.

  Either, one: Those monsters were exceptionally large or rare, and the rest are relatively normal in size.

  Two: Most creatures in the desert were that large but were somehow hidden.

  Or three: it was a mix of one and two.

  That, or Lunaris just really wanted to see a Kaiju fight and summoned them into existence.

  The group assumed it was probably either option two or three. They would have preferred it to be option one, of course– With one notable exception– but given that option was significantly less likely to kill them gruesomely, they discounted it almost out of hand.

  To blend in with their environment, Rexen made a few cloaks out of a cloth blanket that he had brought. He made a bit of mud by adding a small amount of water to the sand all around them and used that to stain the cloaks, dyeing them a dirty brown color. Much better than the pristine white of before.

  “I didn’t realize you were so handy!” Vorn complimented the Half-Elf.

  “Ha, it-it’s nothing. I’ve just had to mend my clothes so many times that I’ve gotten surprisingly decent at tailoring. I couldn’t do anything magnificent, but a few cloaks isn’t anything special. It’s a little difficult to buy clothes when you are in my situation, ha ha.” Rexen laughed lightly at the end, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “My god, their backstories just keep getting worse and worse.” Rowan muttered in their Soulscape.

  “Well, to be fair, we do all have Unique Classes. Being so different from everyone else that you literally have a completely Unique Path doesn’t exactly happen with a typical upbringing. Well, unless you’re me, I guess.”

  “Are- Are you serious? You worked in a mine from the time you were nine years old after your parents died tragically, and that entire time you were stubbornly saving for a dream you were told is impossible. You fit right in, moron.” Rowan pointed out incredulously.

  “Ah- Fair.” Vorn was tempted to argue for a moment but quickly conceded the point. Arguing with Rowan when he had his mind up was the equivalent of arguing with a brick wall.

  The dirty cloaks dried quickly in the arid desert heat, their dark brown color lightening to a crusty sandy brown.

  With their preparations made, they made haste with as light a step as possible. After all, while a dungeon was a magical place that could and did break expectations at every turn, where else could you store kaiju-sized monsters but underground? The sky was a vast expanse of light blue with not a cloud in sight, so it would be pretty hard to hide a monster the size of a building up there. Better not to alert the monsters probably hidden underground.

  — — —

  Rowan trudged through the sand step by mind-numbing step. The overhanging sun hadn’t once left its perch high above them, and not a single cloud seemed to be able to form in this hellscape. There simply wasn’t any water for it to be possible. It had been four days since the battle that shook the landscape, and nothing had happened.

  Other than walking, of course.

  Roving this dry hellscape made him itch for a fight, or anything to break up the monotony. And yet, other than running his Authority around in different patterns to see what would happen, he had nothing to do. What else could he do? Tempering? He didn't have the first idea how, and even if he did, did he want the properties of a desert? No, absolutely not. If anything, he would use something far more dangerous than heat and sand.

  As he took yet another step forward, the sun glaring in his eyes, he missed a step. For a split second, he had mistaken it for a blink, but the total darkness remained unabated. A bone-deep chill went straight through him, and then, like a spotlight from the heavens, they were bathed in a pure yet eerie white light that cast the desert in a completely different light. The shadows around them seemed to deepen until they were but portals to unending darkness.

  Rowan looked to the sky, and what he saw made him narrow his eyes.

  A beautiful full moon loomed over them, but insidious black cracks that echoed nothing but madness were scrawled across the nearly blindingly white surface. Like pools of unending malice, they stained the moon so dark that each crack looked like a window to the unending expanse of space that lay behind them.

  The shadows around them seemed to corrupt the rays of the moon that tried to reach them, infecting the very light itself and crawling toward the source of illumination. They cracked and spiraled up the beams of light like hunting dogs rabidly chasing after their next meal.

  It caught Rowan off guard how fast everything happened, but everyone else was already moving.

  Vorn quickly made a large fire, seemingly uncaring of their limited supply of firewood, and then lit it up with flames as bright as he could conjure. All the while, the darkness continued to tear and crack through the air rapidly, as if rending reality itself.

  Before he could speak a word, the base of each of the inky black pillars seemed to deepen even further, and ashen white hands streaked with rivers of deepest shadow pulled themselves out of the obsidian pools.

  Each shadow continued to expand on the ground until they had all connected leaving only the light of their fire to see by.

  “Moonspawn. Extremely rare global event. High regeneration, weak to light, and endless in number. Save your energy as best as you can, this is an endurance fight.” Ark spoke quickly and urgently.

  “If you’ve ever wanted to know what happens if someone pisses off Lunaris, you’re about to see.” Vorn said, his voice tense. “This is the wrath of a god.”