Sand blew in tight spirals around them, rising and falling as the wind howled across the open desert. Ethan kept his bandana pulled high over his mouth and nose, squinting through the grit as it scoured exposed skin and crept into every seam of his clothing. It dulled the worst of the sting, but the air still tasted dry and metallic, clinging to the back of his throat no matter how shallow his breaths became.

  The rest of his new squad moved ahead of him, their outlines distorted by heat shimmer and drifting sand. After some back and forth with Alex, they had decided to keep the group small. So they could travel light and quick. Alex had decided to bring two of his best members available.

  Alex was taking point. Ethan followed a short distance behind, while the other two members of the Broken Dawns spread slightly wider to either side, maintaining a loose but deliberate diamond formation.

  Nivia walked to the right. She was a short woman, perhaps only just reaching five foot. Her class—Battle Medic—was a rare one. She must have been a nurse or doctor before the trials, maybe even a medic in the army. The class was only offered to those with knowledge in both healing and combat.

  She wore layered light armor over practical clothing. Like most of the Broken Dawns, she had plates of scorpion armor protecting her most vital areas. Her dark hair was braided tightly and wrapped beneath a turban to keep the sand out. Ethan thought it suited her. Her only visible feature was her striking green eyes.

  On the left was Thane. He was large and broad-shouldered, built like a warrior, rather than a spellcaster. Thick arms, a heavy stride, the sort of man you’d expect to see braced behind a shield or swinging a hammer into enemy lines. And yet he had chosen the mage route. It had surprised Ethan when he first found out, but as long as the man could do his job properly, Ethan didn’t care what he looked like, even if he was clearly built for a warrior’s role.

  Thane barely spoke, and when he did, it was brief. But when something moved in the distance or danger threatened, his attention sharpened instantly.

  It gave their group a solid balance. Two warriors—Alex and Ethan—forming the front, a mage shaping the battlefield from range, and a healer who could fight if needed.

  On paper, it was a strong team.

  Ethan also knew, without needing to be told, that he was the lowest level among them.

  The others had been in the trials longer. A lot longer. He guessed they were somewhere in the level twenty to thirty range, based on how they moved and the ease with which they handled threats. It was an educated guess, but he was fairly confident in it.

  Ethan, on the other hand, was still sitting comfortably below level ten. He had only received one system-granted skill so far. Another had come through practice and understanding rather than purchase, but that didn’t change the reality of his numbers.

  He was behind.

  Still, lower level didn’t automatically mean weaker.

  The others had more stats. Stronger bodies, faster reactions, deeper stamina pools. But as long as Ethan had a blade in his hand, he would back himself.

  Apart from Alex. He had already stepped onto the cultivation path, which brought a fundamental change—one Ethan doubted he could keep up with.

  The thought irritated him more than he liked.

  Not because he wanted to surpass Alex, but because he should be further along himself. He knew what he needed to do. He could feel it now, the faint, ambient pull of mana at the edges of his awareness. It hovered just out of reach, brushing against his senses when he focused. It was there. He just needed to grasp it, condense it, form the core. But it was like smoke, slipping through his grasp.

  By all rights, he should have been satisfied. Most people took months, sometimes years, to even reach the point of noticing it. Ethan had been in the trials barely over a week and was already on the cusp.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  He had done this once before. He knew what it felt like. Knew what was possible. But he was learning that knowing how to do something and actually doing it were two very different things.

  Alex’s voice carried back through the wind, distorted but clear enough.

  “We’re leaving Highrocks’ influence now. From here on, we head inward, straight toward the center. We won’t be stopping at any other settlements.”

  Ethan nodded, even though Alex couldn’t see it.

  “Works for me,” he called back. “We don’t have time to muck around. The sooner we’re done, the better.”

  The group adjusted their heading, angling away from any established routes as the last traces of civilization fell behind them.

  The first level wasn’t truly endless, despite its name. It was a vast, flat plane, with the oasis and gateway to level two positioned roughly at its heart. Power gathered there. So did monsters most people avoided, drawn by the concentration of mana.

  The outskirts held established settlements and were where people first entered the trials. They were now firmly leaving that area behind and heading deeper into the desert.

  —~~—

  The first few days passed without incident, but the desert never truly let them relax. The wind shifted constantly, erasing tracks almost as soon as they were made. Heat weighed down on them during the day, while nights cut cold enough to keep them uncomfortable.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  As the days wore on, the land grew harsher by degrees. The dunes rose higher, rolling like giant waves. A couple of times they had to escape sinkholes as the ground gave way beneath them. Ethan fared better than the others there, his skill helping him stay steady-footed over shifting terrain, but it still forced them to slow down and watch every step.

  The monsters grew more dangerous as well. Scorpions gave way to larger variants, their carapaces thicker and movements faster. Undead became less ragged and far stronger, as traveling deeper usually meant the participant had been more powerful when they died.

  Alex adjusted formation without needing to say anything, taking point more often as threats escalated. Thane stopped holding back, weaving longer spells that scorched the sand black where they landed, favoring elemental magic. Nivia, however, was the real highlight. Her healing kept them all running near full capacity, even helping manage fatigue.

  For the most part, Ethan offered support. He took time to adjust to how they worked as a group and slotted in where he thought most appropriate. He leveled once along the way, but because experience was shared and he did the least overall work, he still sat one level short of ten.

  The difference was becoming harder to ignore.

  Each night when they stopped, Ethan could feel it, his body lagging behind his intent. His swordsmanship carried him, but observation alone wouldn’t be enough anymore. It was time to start pushing for growth.

  They were crossing a stretch of broken terrain where dunes gave way to cracked stone plates buried beneath layers of sand when Thane stopped abruptly.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  Ethan felt it a second later—a vibration through the ground. Shapes crested the ridge ahead. One, then another, then three more.

  They ran on four legs, low to the ground, bodies long and segmented like oversized centipedes, with plated backs and hooked forelimbs. Their wedge-shaped heads snapped from side to side, mandibles clacking as they spread out instinctively.

  It only took Ethan a moment to recognize them.

  Sand Stalkers.

  Mid-tier predators—highly territorial, aggressive, and known for hunting in packs. He glanced at the cracked stone beneath them. Their nest was likely somewhere below.

  “I count five,” Alex said calmly.

  They surged forward together, but one peeled away, circling wide with alarming speed.

  Ethan decided it was time. He took his pack off and got ready.

  “I’ve got left,” he said, already breaking off.

  The stalker already meeting him. It came at him low and fast, body rippling as it accelerated across the stone-scarred sand. Ethan planted his feet and waited, forcing himself not to retreat too early. At the last possible second, he stepped aside and brought his blade down in a tight arc, aiming for the joint where the armor plates overlapped.

  The strike glanced off its carapace with a jarring clang.

  The impact rattled up his arms, far harder than he expected. The stalker twisted with the blow, momentum carrying it around in a sharp spin, and its hooked forelimbs lashed out in a blur.

  Pain flared white-hot as claws raked across Ethan’s shoulder, tearing fabric and skin alike. He sucked in a sharp breath and let himself fall with the force rather than fight it, rolling across the uneven stone as the creature skittered past where his head had been a heartbeat earlier.

  He came up on one knee, sword raised just as the stalker pivoted to face him again.

  Its mandibles clacked as it lunged, feinting high before snapping low. Ethan barely managed to bring his blade down in time, steel screeching as claws scraped along the flat of it. The force shoved him back a step, boots sliding on grit.

  He hadn’t expected its shell to be this dense. In hindsight, he really should have. These weren’t rotten zombies or low leveled scorpions. They were a real threat.

  It darted in again, forelimbs hammering at his guard, trying to batter his weapon aside. Ethan retreated two short steps. He struggled to keep up with its speed and instead relied on watching its tells, and predicting its attacks rather than reacting.

  After a few short engagements, he knew he couldn’t cut through its armor so he no longer tried. Instead he waited for a weak point to present itself. When it did, he decided to go for it. He slipped inside its attack, shoulder brushing past chitin as he twisted his hips and drove his blade upward, angling beneath the armored plates rather than against them.

  Steel bit deep.

  The stalker shrieked, a harsh, grinding sound, as the blade tore into softer flesh. It thrashed violently, weight slamming into Ethan’s chest and dragging him forward several steps as it tried to tear free. He dug in his heels, muscles screaming, and wrenched the blade sideways with everything he had.

  Black blood sprayed across the sand. The creature collapsed in a twitching heap, legs folding beneath it as its body spasmed once more before going still.

  Ethan staggered back a step, chest heaving, then forced himself to turn.

  Alex and the others were still engaged with the remaining four. Alex was a force at the center of it, brute strength shattering plates and ripping limbs free as he waded through them head-on. Thane stood a short distance back, voice low and steady as he chanted, mana bleeding into the ground beneath their feet.

  Stone shifted. The cracked plates trembled and rose, locking around the stalkers’ legs and slowing them just enough to matter.

  Nivia fought alongside Alex, short sword flashing. Her form was rough, her strikes lacked refinement. But she was relentless, hacking at joints and vulnerable points.

  Ethan moved to help them. Another stalker had slipped past the two of them and was surging toward Thane, sensing the threat he posed. It skidded across the stone and lunged, claws sweeping low in an attempt to cripple him.

  Ethan intercepted it head-on.

  He stepped into the charge, steel meeting chitin in a sharp clash, then leapt back as the creature snapped at his legs. Thane caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and finished his spell, slamming a hand down as mana surged.

  The ground hardened instantly. Stone locked around the stalker’s limbs, freezing it in place for a short moment. It thrashed, mandibles snapping uselessly as it tried to tear itself free.

  Ethan didn’t waste the opening. He closed the distance and slid his blade cleanly into the creature’s neck, severing the spine in a single, efficient thrust. The body went slack immediately.

  By the time Ethan pulled his sword free and turned back, the fight was already ending. Alex finished the last stalker with a brutal downward blow, while Nivia stepped back, breathing hard, and wiped her blade before sheathing it.

  Alex flexed his hands once, blood dripping from his knuckles, and glanced around to confirm the kill.

  A notification flashed before Ethan’s eyes.

  You have defeated [Sand Stalker Lv.18]

  You have defeated [Sand Stalker Lv.17]

  Congratulations, you are now [Warrior Lv.10]

  Str +2, End +1, Ag +1, Per +1, Will +1

  Ethan let out a satisfied huff as Nivia shot him a look.

  “You’re injured,” she said.

  Ethan paused, then realized she was right. Blood seeped from his shoulder, soaking through torn fabric and running down his torso.

  She glanced at Alex briefly, her look faintly judgmental. Ethan couldn’t entirely disagree.

  “Let me heal you,” she said.

  He nodded and sheathed his blade. As her mana formed, he focused back on the system.

  Congratulations! You have reached level 10 in your class.

  You may now select one class skill from the shop.

  As the cut closed beneath Nivia’s hands, Ethan smiled.

  It was time to choose his next skill.

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