Sand Mage of the Burnt Desert

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]

Chapter 315

As the agonized screams of the burning scavengers filled the air, Zeon's expression remained indifferent.

White Phosphorus Fire.

A flame so merciless that it would only extinguish once the bones were reduced to ash.

It was one of the cruelest abilities a person could use.

Zeon himself avoided using it unless absolutely necessary.

But in this situation? He had no reason to hold back.

Fwoosh!

The unyielding flames illuminated the underground space, turning the darkness into a sea of light.

The scavengers screamed and flailed, desperately trying to douse the fire, rolling across the ground in panic.

To Zeon, their frantic movements almost resembled a grotesque dance.

"You sick bastard!"

"You fucking son of a bitch!"

Hassim and Etly, having narrowly avoided the White Phosphorus Fire, shouted in rage.

Had they been caught in the blaze, they would be writhing on the ground in agony just like the others.

They had burned countless people alive before, but they had no intention of experiencing the same fate themselves.

Watching Zeon unleash such a monstrous ability without hesitation filled them with a mix of terror and fury.

Their rage blinded them.

Without thinking, they charged straight at him.

"KRRRAH!!"

The first to attack was Buckshire, the lycanthrope.

Covered in thick fur, his jaws gaping wide, he lunged at Zeon like a rabid beast.

Lycanthropes naturally possessed physical strength several times greater than humans.

And Buckshire?

Even among lycanthropes, he was a top-tier warrior.

In terms of pure combat power, he was on par with a B-rank Awakened.

A typical hand-to-hand Awakened wouldn’t stand a chance—they would be torn to shreds in an instant.

Whoosh!

In the blink of an eye, Buckshire closed the distance, grabbing both of Zeon's wrists.

If he could pull with all his might, a human body would rip apart like paper.

"Tch…!"

But no matter how hard he pulled, Zeon didn't budge an inch.

His claws, as sharp as diamonds, couldn't even break Zeon's skin.

‘What the hell?!’

A flicker of confusion crossed Buckshire’s face—

BANG!

Zeon violently twisted his arms, breaking free from Buckshire's grip with ease.

The lycanthrope's eyes widened in shock.

CRACK!

Before he could react, Zeon's fist drove into his jaw.

"GRAH!"

A sharp, pained howl escaped Buckshire as his brain rattled from the impact.

His vision blurred, consciousness fading for a brief moment.

His lycanthrope healing ability kicked in, allowing him to recover quickly—

But his body was too unsteady to regain balance.

He collapsed to his knees.

Zeon wasted no time.

BANG!

He drove his knee into Buckshire's skull.

CRACK!

The sickening sound of bone shattering echoed through Nest Five.

And then—

Zeon grabbed Buckshire’s head with both hands—

And slammed his knee into his face again.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

The relentless impacts continued.

Each blow warped Buckshire's face beyond recognition.

Even with a lycanthrope’s accelerated healing, there was no recovering from this kind of sustained trauma.

"You bastard! Stop it!"

Unable to watch any longer, Etly swung his war axe at Zeon’s head.

SWOOSH!

The axe, already heavy on its own, was backed by Etly’s immense dwarven strength.

Its speed and destructive force were overwhelming.

But—

BANG!

Zeon tilted his head back, narrowly dodging the strike, and in the same motion, slammed his knuckles into Etly’s nose.

CRUNCH!

His nose caved in from the impact, blood gushing down his face.

"FUCK!"

Etly clutched his nose and staggered backward.

Zeon extended his arm.

SHHHHHH!

Dozens of Fire Missiles launched from his fingertips, streaking toward Etly.

"Watch out!"

Hassim quickly stepped in front of him, slashing his shamshir to intercept the incoming projectiles.

SWISH! SWISH! SWISH!

The aura-infused blade cut through the fire spells with precision.

Though he had been forced into hiding, Hassim’s combat skill was undeniable.

After neutralizing the flames, he immediately lunged at Zeon, aiming for his throat.

But before his blade could land—

WHOOSH!

A wall of sand rose in front of Zeon, blocking the attack.

CLANG!

Hassim’s sword stopped dead against the sand barrier.

"Tch! Bastard!"

Cursing, he channeled mana into his sword, coating it in aura.

BOOM!

The sword exploded with power, blasting the sand wall apart.

Seeing his opening, Hassim swung his blade toward Zeon’s neck—

Only to find that Zeon was gone.

Instead, standing before him—

Were twenty humanoid figures.

Sand Soldiers.

Zeon's lips curled into a smirk.

"Go."

At his command, the Sand Soldiers surged forward, overwhelming Hassim and his men.

"GRAH!"

Buckshire, his face half-crushed, attempted to stand—

BANG!

A Sand Soldier’s fist slammed into the back of his head.

"KEH—!"

He collapsed again, and within seconds, three more Sand Soldiers pinned him down, pummeling him without mercy.

"What the hell are these things?!"

Etly was desperately swinging his axe, trying to keep the relentless sand warriors at bay.

"Shit! Fuck!"

Akashi, the weakest among them, was already being overwhelmed.

Even Hassim had no time to help—

Because ten Sand Soldiers had surrounded him.

BANG! BOOM!

No matter how many he cut down, more took their place.

Their individual strength might have been inferior, but they never stopped regenerating.

With his mana rapidly draining, Hassim’s movements became sluggish.

His patience snapped.

"I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Blood vessels in Hassim’s eyes burst from excessive mana exertion, leaving his gaze bloodshot and wild. His crimson eyes gleamed as he screamed, his face twisted in rage, resembling a vengeful specter.

There was a madness in his voice—a power that could strike fear into his enemies.

But to Zeon, it was nothing more than a fleeting, desperate wail.

A frightened dog only barks louder. A true predator doesn’t need to scream.

Hassim was no true predator.

He was nothing more than a coward who preyed on the weak.

And because of him, countless survivors in the village had been slaughtered.

That was why their deaths felt all the more tragic.

Zeon waved his hand.

From beneath the sand, a Sand Viper shot forth—striking toward Hassim.

BAAM!

The viper struck his right arm, the very one holding his shamshir.

“GRAAH!”

Hassim screamed as his hand crumpled like wet clay, the pain unbearable.

Now weaponless, he could no longer defend himself against the Sand Soldiers.

THUD! THUD!

Like a punching bag, Hassim was relentlessly beaten down.

His body caved in under the merciless barrage.

He tried to retaliate, gathering the last of his mana—

But the Sand Soldiers didn’t give him a single moment to focus.

Just like Buckshire, his face was soon reduced to an unrecognizable pulp.

"KUHEUK!"

At that moment, Buckshire—still half-conscious—threw off the Sand Soldiers pinning him down and charged toward Hassim.

He was trying to save him.

Only a lycanthrope could endure this kind of punishment and still move.

Had it not been for his werewolf regeneration, he would have died long ago under the Sand Soldiers’ assault.

Zeon watched the scene unfold and smirked coldly.

Buckshire’s loyalty was commendable—

But it wouldn’t save him.

A small flame flickered at Zeon’s fingertips.

White Phosphorus Fire.

With a flick of his wrist, the flame fluttered through the air like a butterfly—

And landed on Buckshire’s chest.

“……”

FWOOSH!

The moment it touched him, the fire burst into a raging inferno, consuming his entire body.

"AAAAAARGH!"

His agonized screams echoed through Nest Five.

The greatest strength of a lycanthrope was their rapid regeneration.

No matter how severe the wound, given enough time, they could heal from almost anything.

But this time—

That ability became his curse.

As soon as his burned flesh regenerated, the White Phosphorus Fire scorched it again.

The speed at which he healed and the fire’s consumption happened in real-time.

Had the fire burned through him instantly, it would have been over quickly.

But because his body kept regenerating, he was trapped in a never-ending cycle of pain.

Buckshire rolled on the ground, desperately trying to smother the flames—

But it was futile.

If it were a fire that could be put out so easily, Zeon wouldn’t have used it in the first place.

Like Sisyphus, condemned to roll a boulder for eternity, Buckshire was doomed to suffer endlessly.

Zeon stepped past his writhing body and approached Hassim.

Pinned to the ground, his remaining hand was shattered, leaving him completely defenseless.

The Sand Soldiers knelt on his back, keeping him pressed to the dirt.

"AAAAAH! FUCK!"

Overcome with rage, Hassim let out a furious scream.

Zeon looked down at him and spoke.

"Are you angry?"

"WHAT KIND OF STUPID QUESTION IS THAT, YOU FUCKING BASTARD?! I’LL KILL YOU!"

"Oh?"

"IF IT WASN’T FOR THOSE FUCKING SAND MONSTERS, YOU WOULDN’T EVEN STAND A CHANCE AGAINST ME, YOU COWARD! WITHOUT THEM, YOU’RE NOTHING!"

"You really believe that?"

"FUCK YEAH! IF YOU’RE NOT SCARED, GET RID OF THEM AND FIGHT ME ONE-ON-ONE!"

At Hassim’s provocation, Zeon chuckled.

"No."

"…What?"

"I said no. Sand is my power. Why would I throw it away?"

"COWARD!"

"Call me whatever you like. In the end, I win."

"YOU—!"

"And the loser—should learn to obey the victor. Otherwise, the pain will only get worse. So, I’ll ask one last time. Tell me about the Five Venoms Clan."

"GO TO HELL, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

"Name, age, face, gender, height—any detail you can remember. Tell me everything."

"LIKE HELL I WILL!"

"You’ll talk soon enough."

Zeon’s face remained emotionless as he spoke.

His voice was chillingly indifferent.

Hassim suddenly felt the air around him grow cold.

Goosebumps crawled up his skin despite the Sand Soldiers pressing him into the ground.

Then—

Zeon pulled a glass bottle from his subspace.

Hassim stared at him, confused.

Clatter.

Inside the bottle were two long, thin creatures—twisted like strands of wire.

Zeon uncorked it and placed one right in front of Hassim’s face.

"What the hell is that?"

"A Phantom Hairworm. A type of monster."

"You think I’m scared of some fucking parasite? You’re gonna have to try harder than that."

"You’ll find out soon enough. From now on, you’ll be very thirsty."

Drip.

Zeon poured a small amount of water from a discarded kettle onto the worm.

The moment the liquid touched it—

The twisted strand came to life, writhing unnaturally.

Then—

It sensed the nearest living being.

It locked onto Hassim.

The moment the creature began to crawl toward him—

An instinctual, primal terror surged through Hassim’s body.

"FUCK! I’LL TALK! JUST GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME!"

Zeon shook his head.

"Too late."

He sighed, as if pitying him.

Before Hassim could say another word—

The Phantom Hairworm forced its way between his lips.

Hassim clenched his teeth, trying to resist.

But it was useless.

The foreign sensation slithering inside his mouth made his eyes bulge in horror.

A moment later—

He screamed.

"WATER! GIVE ME WATER!"

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]