Chapter 39
Author: John T White
last update2025-07-24 15:28:46

FWOOM.

The burst of flame hissed through the air like a wild animal tamed mid-roar. It circled tight and neat, wrapping around the misshapen scraps of wood and metal with a dancer’s grace but a butcher’s heat. The air shimmered. Sparks leapt. And in the blink between heartbeats, the cart was born anew—half wooden, half metal, clunky yet functional, with one rugged wooden wheel and a scorched, gleaming flat metallic tire on the other side. Not beautiful. Not balanced. But it would carry lives across the sands, and that was all that mattered.

Silence followed. The kind that only comes after witnessing something impossible made real.

Zaria blinked through the heat-haze and smoke. Her pulse still hadn’t caught up with what she just saw. The cart steamed faintly, like it remembered the fire too vividly. Everyone around her was too stunned to speak—until Rokhen broke the stillness, stepping forward with that blunt certainty that somehow made people breathe easier.

“Good…” he muttered, wipin
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  • Chapter 64

    Rokhen didn’t pause to admire the chaos he’d just witnessed. The blue flames still hissed on the sand where half of Varohn’s men had fled, a sickly, otherworldly trail that steamed and smoked in the dry air. For a moment, Rokhen simply took it in—the stench of singed cloth and fear and the way the wind dragged the smoke like someone trying to erase a bad memory. That was enough. His boots pushed off the sand, and through a clean, controlled burst that sent grains skittering in his wake, he launched himself forward.He hit the ground in a low, controlled roll and sprang up again as wind teared at his cloak. He didn’t hesitate. The chained women were his priority. He ran straight toward the cage, throbbing the rope of his sword at his side and moving like a man who’d practiced this single motion a thousand times in his head.Now standing still at the middle of the chaos, Serakai still tried to breathe. Chains clinked around her wrists; her lungs were stabbing for steady air, but her

  • Chapter 63

    "We will not hand over our Queen to your undeserving hands, Varohn!" Rokhen’s raw with fury and convicted voice tore through the suddenly quiet desert. His voice thundered and echoed in the hearts of the trembling soldiers behind him like a war drum.Varohn, clearly amused, arched his brow.Rokhen didn’t wait for a reply. He yanked his sword from its hilt, as its metal glinted with years of loyal service. The blade caught the late afternoon sun, throwing a cold shimmer toward the desert’s edge.“And if you want her so badly...” Rokhen lifted the blade and leveled it straight at Varohn. “Then you’ll have to go through every last one of us to get to her.”He turned to his soldiers, who were already on edge—some gripping their blades so tight their knuckles had turned white.“Arm yourselves, my good soldiers!” he shouted, stepping forward with purposeful strides. “We’ve had a long time to think about what to do with this menace of a dark flame wielder. It’s no excuse—but we all knew de

  • Chapter 62

    The sun blazed down like it was personally offended by everyone standing beneath it. Sand whipped through the air, stinging cheeks, slipping into armor, and turning every breath into a mouthful of grit. Yet Rokhen stood firm, flanked by Amara at his side. Behind them, barely a hundred warriors gritted their teeth, getting their weapons ready and wounding their nerves tightly like drawn bowstrings.Across the dusty span of land stood Varohn—more smug than a snake in a silk robe—with his usual flair for theatrics. Behind him? A chaotic mob of swarming, jittery and loud thugs. They hooted, swung their weapons in the air, and howled like desert dogs tasting blood.Varohn raised his voice over the howling winds."As you can see, honourable leader," he called, oozing sarcasm through his tone, "turning back isn’t an option for us... not until we get what we want!"Rokhen squinted but said nothing.Amara leaned sideways, adjusting the weight of her mallet with a grunt. "What did he just sa

  • Chapter 61

    “I can’t argue with that,” Amara responded, folding her arms across her chest and pinching her brows in a grim sort of reflection. She lifted one arm, cradling her thumb and fingers on her chin as her mind wandered back. “I teamed up with a Flameborn commander against him once... and he treated us like kids. Like we were flailing around in the dark while he played with matches.”She let out a bitter exhale and tilted her gaze toward Rokhen with angry eyes.“He wasn’t even serious. That bastard was toying with us… If he’d wanted to end it… one clean slice and we’d all be lifeless under those dunes right now.”She paused, then narrowed her eyes.“So… I’d like you to explain to me how these gems of yours work exactly. You said it’d give us a fighting chance, right?”Rokhen didn’t respond right away. He just looked at her—long enough to show he wasn’t about to give her half-baked hope. Then he took in a breath, turned away, and walked to the cluttered corner of the tent. Old maps, fray

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    The tension in the tent could’ve been sliced with a blunt dagger.Rokhen’s voice came low and sharp. “What is it, my young friend?” His eyes never left the wide-eyed soldier bent double near the tent entrance.The young soldier, in dust-streaked tin-plated armor who had been clinking with every breath, finally straightened. His chest heaved as sweat rolled in lines down his temple. Still catching his breath, he nodded slightly before blurting it out in a rush of guilt and urgency.“Just a while ago—at the watch gate—we saw a streak, something dark, broody and unnatural, shoot up into the sky. Straight up.” He paused, visibly uncomfortable, flicking his eyes down to the floor like a kid caught sneaking food.“At first,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “we didn’t think much of it. We thought it was... I don’t know, maybe some illusion. A trick of the heat. You know how the desert messes with your head when it’s hot enough to cook your thoughts.”He gave a short, shameful c

  • Chapter 59

    With a faint hum of concentration, the flames molded and sharpened, solidifying into that baton-shaped weapon he was finally starting to get the hang of.“Guess we’re doing this the Kaelen way,” he muttered, quaking his lips into a half-smirk despite himself.One sharp upward slice—fwoosh—and the top of the cloth gave way, spitting embers as it burned clean. Another slash down the side, and the makeshift cover slid off without much of a sound, landing in a lazy heap of ash and splintered wood at the corner.Kaelen stepped out cautiously, tugging the reins of the horse behind him. Sunlight hit his face for the first time in days, but instead of the triumphant feeling you’d expect, he just squinted against the glare, grimacing like the sun itself had personally offended him.“Well… there it is,” he grumbled, looking around the wrecked entrance of what used to be a guard tower. “Freedom, huh? Spent all that time trapped in a hole to walk out to… whatever this is.” His gaze swept over

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