Tenebrous Wolf
Chapter 118: Whispers Below the Dunes

Chapter 118: Whispers Below the Dunes

Everyone turned to Seraphim, waiting for an explanation. Noticing their stares, the silver-haired girl spoke in a flat, emotionless tone:

"Why are you all looking at me? Isn’t it obvious from the surroundings? Fighting in such an open area would naturally attract more monsters. And who knows what else might be hiding out here."

Morgan’s eyes widened—but she quickly deflected.

"Of course, I know that."

Klaus sighed as he glanced at her. He already understood the nature of the relationship between the two girls. Sure, they’d resolved whatever awkward tension lingered between them, but that didn’t mean they were suddenly friends. At best, they were just... acquaintances. (Not that his own relationship with Seraphim had progressed much beyond that, either.)

Whatever had happened that day when the two were alone was still a mystery, they both stubbornly refused to talk about with him or Adrian. On the bright side, at least Morgan and Seraphim weren’t trying to stab or rip each other’s throats out like a pair of lunatics.

Thinking about that, Klaus sighed helplessly again.

Who knew what would happen if they ever found out Morgan was actually a demon?

Honestly, Klaus had been playing with fire for a while now. No, more like juggling torches over a pit of oil. It all started the moment he decided to let a demon live in his apartment. Then he brought her to the Ascended Academy, a place crawling with Sleepless-class Ascendants and above, and teamed up with not one, but two of them as well!

From another perspective, his actions were definitely instant. Yet, somehow, his luck had held out.

There were plenty of Ascendants with bizarre, often ridiculous abilities. One guy could change his skin color. Another had to eat sand to activate his power. Some abilities were useful. Others were downright useless. But there was always the terrifying possibility that someone had awakened the ability to sense or detect demons.

If that was the case, Klaus was lucky, incredibly so, that he hadn’t crossed paths with such a person yet.

’How lucky.’

A few seconds later, the group cautiously peeked their heads out one by one, watching the slow movement of a lone, wandering creature in the distance.

They did their best to stay low, but the shallow pit didn’t offer much space, forcing them to press up against each other in an awkward, cramped bundle.

What could they do? Not that they had any better alternatives.

Meanwhile, Klaus found it difficult to fully concentrate on the Nightmare Carapace. Not because of the monster’s ominous presence, but because Morgan was currently pressing against his back. Of course, he wasn’t responsible for his position, or the group’s, for that matter but he couldn’t exactly say he minded the sensation either.

Unlike most women in the Sanctuary, Morgan’s presence was more prominent in the "back" than the "front." But that didn’t mean her front was utterly lacking. Far from it actually.

Most women in the Sanctuary were known for having a prominent front. In fact, even younger girls tended to develop early in that department. Then there were the exceptions. Take Seraphim, for example unlike someone like Yuki, she leaned more toward the athletic type. Not that she was the only one, of course. Klaus even knew a girl who was as muscular as a boar, without any cybernetic implants, too.

Then there was Morgan... or rather, Briar.

Women with her body type, often referred to as "bottom-heavy," were noticeably rare. In that sense, she was something of an outlier. Because of this, the succubus had even developed a bit of an insecurity about her front.

Still,

’What the hell are you thinking about?! Get your mind out of the gutter!’

Klaus screamed inwardly, trying to force away the intrusive thoughts. But despite his efforts, his body continued to heat up.

Of course, he already knew the cause—his damn [Carving] Trait. He’d been able to keep it under control until now, but the question was how much longer could he keep suppressing it?

It felt like only a matter of time before he ended up pushing someone down and doing... this and that. And let’s be honest—it would almost definitely be Morgan.

But seriously, now of all times?! In the middle of a desert wasteland with monsters roaming around?!

’Tsk.’

He clicked his tongue and gave his head a sharp shake, finally managing to shove those perverted thoughts aside.

Refocusing, Klaus turned his attention back to the Nightmare Carapace.

The hulking monstrosity continued to lumber across the wasteland.

Concentrating his vision and extending its range, Klaus was able to get a clearer look at the creature’s condition.

Strangely enough, it didn’t seem particularly alert or aggressive. In fact, this Nightmare Carapace looked... worn down. Sluggish. Definitely not in top shape.

Judging by the way it moved, it looked like the creature had barely escaped a brutal skirmish and was now making a hasty retreat.

But even more concerning was the fact that it was alone.

That, in itself, was odd. Nightmare Carapaces rarely traveled solo. They were known to move in groups. It was common knowledge: if you spotted one, chances were high there were more nearby.

And yet, this one wandered the open wasteland with no sign of its kin.

Given the flat, barren terrain, it was practically impossible for creatures of that size and mass to remain hidden. There were no boulders to crouch behind or ridges to mask movement. Even if they tried to stay still and camouflage as rocks, their jagged armor and sheer bulk would immediately give them away.

Narrowing his eyes, Klaus came to a theory.

This Nightmare Carapace had likely been part of a much larger group. Maybe they had ventured out to hunt, as they typically did, and after completing their objective, were on their way back to their den, until they were ambushed. Another species of monsters must have launched a surprise attack, resulting in a massacre.

In the chaos, this one had managed to escape.

Now, it was testing its luck, trudging alone across the silver sand, likely trying to reach the safety of the mountains that surrounded the Crimson Spire.

Yes, that was the most likely scenario.

’Interesting. Judging by its wounds... I think I already know who the culprit is. But more importantly, where is it heading?’

With that thought in mind, Klaus continued observing the wandering Nightmare Carapace.

Multiple legs painfully dragged through the silver sand like they were weighed down with stones. Its thick carapace, usually glossy and pitch black, was cracked and dulled, some parts had even been gouged open, leaving raw, twitching muscle exposed beneath. A deep violet liquid oozed steadily from its wounds.

Despite its state, the Nightmare Carapace trudged forward.

And the Crimson Spire loomed in the far distance, its jagged silhouette glowing faintly against the pale horizon like a blackened fang biting into the grey sky.

Driven by desperation, the lone creature continued its clumsy, uncoordinated retreat. It had to reach safety, otherwise, its injuries would kill it.

But in its haste, it had missed something greatly important; the quiet shift in the silver sand.

Klaus blinked.

’What...?’

He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was seeing things.

But he wasn’t.

While the Nightmare Carapace trudged forward, something stirred beneath the silver sand. It was subtle and barely noticeable but Klaus caught it instantly. A faint ripple, like something massive slithering just below the surface, heading straight for the wounded creature.

Someone else might’ve missed it. But not Klaus. There was no way he’d overlook something like that.

As he focused, the shifting sand revealed a faint outline... a suggestion of size and shape.

And then it clicked.

Klaus’s eyes widened in horror.

’Wh-What is that...?’

Unknowingly, his face had gone ghostly pale, drained of all color, as if the very blood in his body had frozen solid.

Noticing Klaus’s sudden shift in expression, Seraphim furrowed her brow.

"What is it? Did you see something?"

Klaus quickly held up a hand, signaling her to stay quiet.

"Shh. Don’t speak."

Though confused, the group exchanged glances, then turned their attention back to the Nightmare Carapace. They didn’t understand what was going on, but they could sense the urgency in his voice and so, they held their tongues and waited in silence.

Then, they saw it.

A subtle, unnatural shift beneath the silver sand like a ripple moving against the grain.

The color drained from their faces.

Still unaware of the looming danger, the Nightmare Carapace lumbered forward, its steps slow and heavy. Then, it paused. As if sensing something off, the creature glanced around, alert for the first time.

But it was too late. There was nothing to see on the surface, at least.

Suddenly, a giant silhouette emerged from the sand and opened its enormous maws.

A thunderous roar tore through the wasteland, shaking the ground with a deep, guttural resonance that vibrated in their bones. The very air seemed to tremble as the sand exploded upward in a violent surge, revealing the nightmare that had been slithering just beneath their feet.

It was colossal.

A titanic serpent-like beast covered in iridescent silver scales. Jagged fins protruded from its spine like broken obsidian blades, and its maw, lined with rows upon rows of translucent, needle-like teeth, seemed large enough to swallow a building whole.

"Wh–What the hell is that?!" Morgan whispered in disbelief.

Seraphim didn’t respond. Her narrowed eyes reflected the beast’s monstrous form as she slowly reached for her weapon.

The Nightmare Carapace, already weakened and bleeding, let out a shrill, warbling screech. It tried to turn, but it was far too late.

With terrifying speed, the serpent surged forward like a bolt of silver lightning. Its body curved through the air, impossibly graceful for its size, and in a single, fluid motion, it coiled around the Nightmare Carapace.

There was a sickening crack.

Carapace plates shattered. Muscle and sinew tore like paper. One of the creature’s legs was ripped clean off as the serpent tightened its grip, constricting with unimaginable force.

Blood sprayed across the silver dunes in wide arcs of deep black. The Nightmare Carapace shrieked and flailed, but its efforts were pitiful like a wounded deer thrashing against a crocodile’s jaws.

The serpent’s head lunged downward again, and with a horrifying crunch, it bit into the Nightmare Carapace’s side. Flesh tore, bone snapped. The shrieking stopped.

Then silence.

The group stared, frozen, as the serpent raised its bloodied head and let out another low, guttural bellow that echoed across the barren land like a funeral bell.

After a moment, it began to drag its kill beneath the sand, vanishing just as suddenly as it had appeared. Only a wide trail of disturbed earth and splashes of violet remained, marking the site of its ambush.