The group trailed behind Kael in a staggered line, boots dragging through sand that refused to behave like ground. Each step sank a little, stole a little. Even when the wind calmed, the desert still hissed, grains sliding down dunes, whispering against fabric, working their way into seams and teeth like they belonged there.

Kael slowed until the others nearly bumped into him, then stopped completely.

He tipped his chin up. The sky looked clean in the ugliest way; no haze, no cloud cover, just a hard emptiness with stars scattered like cold nails. The kind of night that didn’t feel peaceful. It felt predatory.

"Why are we stopping?" Garron asked, he had an edge to his voice.

Kael didn’t answer right away. He was listening to the silence, reading the air with the same attention he used for footsteps and breathing. The desert at night wasn’t quiet, it was waiting.

"No clouds, it’ll get cold real fast."

Garron’s lips tightened, irritation chewing at his patience like a rat.

"What does clouds have to do with it getting cold or not here? We all know it gets cold in the desert..."

Kael exhaled through his nose. He didn’t like explaining himself to people who argued for sport, but if he didn’t, they’d keep walking until their fingers went numb and their joints stiffened. Then they’d blame him for that too.

"Clouds are means to stop moisture from dissipating. Moisture is what stops the heat in the air, without it, all the morning heat just evaporates... Stay close to me," Kael said.

The old heat from the day had already started bleeding out of the sand. You could feel it in the way the wind kissed sweat and turned it into a cold smear across skin. The kind of chill that didn’t announce itself, it crept, then suddenly you realized your teeth were clacking.

"Close? Why close? Was your plan for us to hug each other all the way to wherever you said you could smell water? Man shouldn’t we just head for the beacon, we didn’t stray too much off course."

Kael pinched the bridge of his nose like he could squeeze patience back into his skull. He didn’t bother snapping. The desert would do the snapping for him if they kept playing tough with physics.

His eyes slid toward Christy. She’d been dead weight for hours, but not in the way the others thought. Not useless, just bleeding and slowing. The kind of liability that turned into an easy scapegoat the moment someone needed a reason to lash out.

He shifted his stance and spoke like he was discussing weather, not triage.

"Christy, how good is your foot?"

"Enough that I can walk on it now," she said.

Kael’s gaze flicked down to her leg. The wound had stopped actively leaking, but "not bleeding" didn’t mean "fine." It meant the body had decided it couldn’t afford to waste more fluid.

"Then I think it’ll be better that you start walking for now, until you can’t. it’ll get too hot on my back."

"That’s tempting," she smiled.

That’s not what I mean, but why is she so thirsty... and I don’t mean water...

Kael caught the smile and didn’t return it. He knew what she was doing, staying human when the tower tried to sandblast you into an animal. He didn’t dislike it. He just couldn’t afford to lean into it.

He swallowed the thought and forced his focus back to the problem in front of him.

The cold was about to bite, and the group didn’t have the luxury of learning the hard way.

Kael took a deep breath and began moving his internal energy.

It didn’t explode out of him. It didn’t flare like some flashy skill. It was quieter, like a furnace door opening somewhere deep inside his ribs.

Heat rolled off him in controlled waves, slow at first, then steadier as he found the rhythm. The air near his skin thickened. The night wind that had been sharpening into knives suddenly dulled when it hit him, like it lost confidence halfway through its attack.

"Hoolly! That’s warm it’s like a walking furnace!" the skinny young man said as he approached Kael and put two palms over and close, like you’d do to a bonefire.

Kael didn’t move away, but he didn’t soften either. He’d seen what hunger did to people. Warmth was currency out here. The moment you proved you had it, everyone wanted a loan.

"Alright, this would stave off the cold, let’s move," Kael said as he began walking up ahead.

The group fell into place again, tighter now, drawn by instinct as much as instruction. Sand crunched underfoot in a dull, repetitive rhythm. Their shadows, thin, broken by moonlight, clung close.

Kael let Christy use one of his arms as support when she walked.

She leaned in, light enough that it didn’t slow him, but present enough that he had to constantly adjust his stride so she didn’t stumble. Her breathing stayed controlled, but every so often her grip tightened for half a second, pain catching up, then getting shoved back down.

"I wish I had access to my inventory," she said as she realized she was slowing down Kael.

"It’s fine, once we get to the oasis you can clean the wound and we can refresh."

"How far are we?"

Kael checked the map out of habit, then remembered he wasn’t allowed to look like he was checking anything. So he lifted his nose slightly, drew a breath like he was sampling scent on the wind, and gave them a number that sounded plausible enough to be "instinct."

"At this rate... ten hours of walking. We’ll make it before it gets too hot in the morning, and I can radiate heat for the whole night."

"So reliable," Christy smiled and continued moving.

The others didn’t smile. They watched him like you watch a knife you have to sleep beside, grateful it’s pointed away from you, uneasy that it could turn.

They were trapped in a miserable equation: Kael was the reason they weren’t freezing, and Kael was also the most likely reason they’d end up dead if things went ugly.

Kael continued walking forward and so did the group, for the next several hours, they had to walk not in a straight line, confusion was obvious in everyone’s gait. Whenever they wanted to move, they looked at Kael, ’Was it safe,’ is what their eyes said.

He kept them off the cleanest paths. Not because he enjoyed it, but because clean sand meant disturbed sand, and disturbed sand meant something beneath it had reason to shift. He guided them along long arcs around dunes, climbing higher than they wanted, dropping down into shallow bowls where the wind had packed the ground tighter.

Every detour cost energy. Every detour cost patience. But Kael didn’t gamble when the stakes were "get swallowed alive."

They trusted Kael’s judgement and moved.

Hours bled together. The cold gnawed at the edges of their endurance, but Kael’s radiating heat kept them from stiffening into statues. Still, he felt it, internal energy wasn’t free. It was cleaner than mana, thicker, but it still asked a price. It asked him.

Garron turned to Kael, "Need some water? We’ve been walking for a while, and you’re looking like you’re sweating."

"Why? You plan on giving him yours?" The old man asked.

"You saw the guy, unlike us who are being warm and cozy, look at his face, whatever he is doing is exhausting."

Kael’s jaw flexed.

"I’m fine," Kael said, he was not fine, the heat was slowly cooking him from inside.

"You can have mine," Christy said as she handed him over her waterskin. It barely had any water in it."

"You sure?" Kael asked.

"Yeah, you carried me a long distance this morning, I didn’t exhaust as much as you guys."

"Stop lying," Kael said, "An injured person uses up even more water. I’m fine, just keep going, we’re only a few hours away, I can make it." Kael said.

The sun soon began rising, and between the coldness of the night and the rising Heat, Kael stopped the rotation of his internal energy.

The warmth faded. Not instantly, more like a blanket being slowly pulled away. The night’s bite retreated, replaced by the beginning of morning’s cruelty. The desert didn’t do "mild." It did extremes, and it did them like it enjoyed watching.

"Fuck it, you look like you’re about to drop dead," Garron said as he pulled out his own waterskin, "Drink."

Kael looked at the man, then smiled, for a gruff looking sounding and rude person, he really was doing the leader thing proper.

"Sure then," Kael took the waterskin, there was barely enough for a mouthful, but he simply used half of it, washed the inside of his mouth wet his lips then swallowed the strange tasting water.

"There’s half left here," Kael said, "Use it."

Garron nodded. And drank it, the rest of the group had already finished their own water.

The sun climbed higher, turning sand into a mirror that hated your eyes. Heat rose in visible distortions. The air itself looked warped, like the world was struggling to hold its shape.

Soon, in the distance the skinny kid looked up, "Ah, another mirage," he sighed.

The rest of the group also looked up, there was a large swath of what looked like green swaying land with large palm trees.

"No," Ludwig said, "That’s the oasis, that one is real." He smiled.

Looking again, the skinny kid wiped his eyes, and smiled, then rushed in a sprint.

"STOP!" Kael howled.

The word cracked like a whip. It wasn’t gentle warning, it was command.

"Fuck it man, I’m thirsty we gotta get there fast." He took several steps as he grinned at the group.

"Are there worms up ahead."

"No," Kael shook his head.

"Then there is no reason to stop?" the skinny guy said.

Kael’s stare could’ve nailed the kid to the sand.

"Think about it for a second, in all this desert, if there is one safe haven where water could exist. Do you think animals won’t be there? monsters even?"

The young man stopped, his excitement died down immediately.

"Let’s keep going together, slowly." Garron said.

The group continued until they reached the oasis. It was thick, had several large palm trees with dates on them.

Thick long shrubs, sharp and extremely dense.

And the smell and sound of running water echoed from behind the shrubs.

It wasn’t a peaceful oasis. It was a trap dressed like mercy. The shrubs weren’t soft greenery, they were thorny, tangled, built to hide things. The shade under the palms felt like relief, but it was relief that came with teeth.

Kael looked at his map.

"Enemies up ahead," he said, several red dots were spread along the water edges of the oasis.

"Shit..." Garron cursed, he only had access to his spear, everyone’s inventory was locked but from their weapons. So they had to defend themselves, while thirsty while hungry, while exhausted. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The group’s posture shifted. Shoulders tightened. Hands slid on weapon grips. Even Christy stopped leaning as much, forcing herself upright like pride could replace strength.

"We’ll take a small detour," Kael said as he noticed one side of the oasis didn’t have monsters. They may be able to drink from that spot without risking alerting other creatures.

"We can just rush in and get a drink man," the skinny guy said.

The old man snorted, "Do it yourself, if the monsters eat you, then you’ll at least buy us time."

"No one is dying," Kael said, "Monsters are concentrated on the north side of the oasis, we’ll just take a few steps, stay low under the shrubs and drink when we get the chance." Kael said as he walked forward with the rest of the group behind him.

They moved like thieves, hunched and careful, slipping into the shrub perimeter. Leaves scraped fabric. Thorns snagged sleeves. Sand muffled footsteps, but the greenery didn’t, it rustled, betrayed every shift of weight.

Just as they entered the shrub perimeter, he noticed the red dots converging toward them.

"Fuck, we were spotted..." Kael.

"What do we do now? Fight?"

"Our only choice."

Everyone pulled out their weapons.

Kael stood up from the shrubs, he couldn’t see any creatures.

The mini-map showed red dots, but never the type of enemy.

Without a clear visual on what they were about to face, things began looking rather grim.

Hope and water ahead, but unknown monsters were blocking it.