We marched through the pitch-black desert night, the cool oasis air quickly giving way to the dry, biting chill of the dunes. Mona's men led the way, their torches casting flickering, orange shadows across the sand as they guided us toward the neospiders' nest. These elves were clearly highly trained, a balanced squad of battle-mages and armored vanguards, but against the overwhelming, unnatural strength of an S-rank neospider infestation, they would easily be overwhelmed. This was a job for monsters. Alta and I kept our focus, ready to take the vanguard the moment we reached the cave mouth.
To break the tense silence of the march, one of the elven guards looked back at Alta, a look of profound respect in his eyes.
"You know, we still talk about Lady Alta's heroic act from when she came here last year. She was an absolute beast out there. Fended off a massive horde of goblins all by herself, completely incinerating them using that devastating fire magic of hers."
I glanced over at Alta. It made sense; she was a Diamond-rank prodigy with S-rank mastery over gale and fire magic. And the fact that she had pulled off a feat like that entirely in her human form, without ever revealing her Chimera blood, was a testament to just how terrifyingly powerful she truly was.
As we walked, Alta seemed to lose herself in thought before a sudden question popped into her head. She leaned closer to me, her deep male voice barely audible over the crackling torches.
"Hey, Eirene... What exactly is the story with Chief Mona? How did she get that horrific scar on her throat? When I first met her years ago, I didn't want to be rude so I never bothered to ask, but seeing it up close again at the feast..."
My breath hitched slightly beneath my hood. I knew exactly how Mona had gotten that scar. The memory of Oksana bared to me under her lavender-scented courtyard flashed vividly in my mind.
Before I could even figure out how to write a response on my notepad, the elven guard overheard her question and sighed heavily.
"Ah... you're asking about the Chief's scar? Well, twenty years ago, a terrible incident happened right inside our oasis. I was just a little boy at the time, but seeing that scene unfold was entirely surreal. Human traders ambushed them. Mona's daughter, Oksana, was violently captured and thrown into a carriage to become a slave. When Mona tried to save her, the merchant sliced her throat open right in front of her daughter's eyes. Our healers managed to close the wound just in time to save her life, but the emotional trauma of losing her only child like that was utterly devastating."
Alta's eyes softened, her chest falling as she let out a sad, heavy breath, feeling genuinely terrible for the tragic history of the Petrivna family.
But beneath my canvas cloak, my face remained completely expressionless. Alta and the guards felt pity, but I knew the dark, twisted truth of how this story actually ended. They thought Oksana was just a lost, tragic memory. They had no idea that the little elven girl had survived, fueled by that very same trauma, to single-handedly build a ruthless, multi-million gold drug empire. They didn't know she had developed a venomous, apocalyptic hatred toward the entire human race, or that just weeks ago, I had been the one to put a bullet through her head.
I kept my mouth shut and my hand away from my notepad, letting the ghosts of the past stay buried in the desert sand as the gaping mouth of the neospider cave finally appeared in the torchlight ahead.
The flickering light of the torches cast long, eerie shadows across the massive, gaping mouth of the sand cave. The elven guides brought our march to a halt, their expressions turning grim as they looked into the pitch-black abyss ahead.
"Well, this is as far as we go, we will set up a perimeter and stay here to guard the cave entrance so that no escaping neospiders can slip past us into the desert. But heed this warning before you step inside: these neospiders are entirely different from standard desert variants. They have developed a highly volatile, mutated poison that can kill an ordinary human in a single, concentrated dose."
Hearing his warning, a silent wave of relief washed over me beneath my canvas cloak. I didn't let a single muscle move, but internally, I relaxed; my own monstrous transformation had made me completely immune to all poisons, no matter how lethal. And even if things went sideways, Alta was an incredibly experienced, Diamond-rank mage whose official job classification was a priestess, meaning her affinity for protective and cleansing magic was unmatched. We were the perfect counter to this venomous infestation.
Before we stepped away from the group, one of the guards stepped forward and handed me a sturdy, iron-framed traveler's lantern. I took it with my right hand and expertly strapped it securely to my thigh so my arm would remain free to handle my shotgun. Another guard handed me a small flask of premium kerosene. I carefully filled the reservoir, struck a spark, and watched as a bright, steady amber flame bloomed to life, beautifully illuminating the jagged rock formations around my feet.
We offered the elven vanguards a final, appreciative nod of thanks. With the lantern casting a steady circle of light ahead of us and the cold weight of the Death Chant Shotgun ready on my back, Alta and I turned our backs on the desert twilight and officially ventured deep into the suffocating darkness of the sand caves.
The deeper we ventured into the twisting sand caves, the more the environment transformed into a grotesque, alien landscape. Massive clusters of translucent neospider eggs lined the jagged walls, pulsing faintly in the dark, while thick, sticky sheets of web and silk were scattered haphazardly across the stone floors. This colony was entirely different from the ones I had encountered back in Karama Village; the harsh, arid desert climate had forced the species to undergo rapid, volatile mutations to survive.
Alta didn't seem fazed by the unsettling sight. With a casual flick of her wrist, she cast a localized fire magic spell, a bright, steady flame blooming over her palm to serve as her torch. As she walked, her gaze drifted down to the heavy weapon strapped to my back.
"Eirene, it seems you have a shotgun, if I'm not mistaken, that's one of the eight legendary Death Chant artifacts. I'm guessing the Bureau rewarded you with it after one of your S-rank hunts? Or perhaps your brother gifted it to you as a birthday present?"
I offered a slight, silent shake of my head beneath my hood. Neither of her predictions was right. The weapon hadn't come from the Bureau or my family, it was given to me by Oksana herself, back when I was infiltrating her inner circle.
Alta sighed, a look of bitter nostalgia crossing her features.
"You know, I actually used to own a Death Chant artifact myself, but I lost it years ago. I let my guard down for just a moment, and it was stolen by bandits when I wasn't looking. It was the Death Chant Tommy Gun, a devastating submachine gun with an eighty-round drum magazine. The Bureau had awarded it to me for being one of their top contributors. Last I heard, it was stolen and traded around by the three major criminal organizations. It was an absolute waste to lose it, because that weapon fed directly on my elemental affinity, allowing me to fire either concentrated wind bullets or explosive fire bullets. Since you're carrying the Death Chant Shotgun right now, would you care to let me try a shot?"
Curious to see how the artifact would respond to a Diamond-rank elemental master, I unstrapped the heavy firearm and handed it over to her.
The moment Alta's fingers gripped the stock, the weapon reacted instantly to her immense magical signature. The sleek silver linings etched along the shotgun's barrel shifted, glowing a vibrant, fiery orange to indicate it was converting her raw mana into magical ammunition.
Right on cue, a skittering sound echoed from the shadows ahead. My thigh-strapped lantern illuminated a horrifying sight, a massive, mutated neospider was huddled over the remains of a dead elven scout, greedily munching on the corpse while actively laying a fresh clutch of eggs.
Alta didn't hesitate. She raised the Death Chant Shotgun, aimed down the sights, and pulled the trigger.
BOOM!
A deafening blast rocked the cavern as a hail of roaring fire bullets erupted from the barrel, completely engulfing the monster in a localized inferno and burning the eggs to ash.
As the smoke cleared, I realized just how unique these artifacts truly were. While the shotgun remained in Alta's possession, she could seamlessly adapt its output to match her affinities, shifting the ammunition between piercing gale or destructive fire. But the moment she handed the heavy weapon back to me and I gripped the handle, the orange glow faded, returning to a dark, ominous crimson. When I wielded it, the gun fed on my own monstrous nature, converting my lifeforce to fire devastating, high-impact blood bullets.
I strapped the warm shotgun back onto my shoulder, giving Alta a sharp nod. The noise from the blast was bound to wake the rest of the nest, and the real hunt was about to begin.