The Wild Lands didn't roar here — they whispered.
Even the wind seemed cautious, snaking low across the grass like it was afraid to be heard. Texan crouched by a print that looked more like a crater than a footprint. The sun caught the faint shimmer of heat still clinging to its rim. Melted earth.
"Redd," Texan muttered, brushing the dust from his fingertips. "That ain't no normal trail."
The ogre lumbered closer, casting a mountain-sized shadow over Texan's crouched form. His grin was stupid-wide. "You mean the Alpha, right? Big snake. Lava blood. Eats cities for breakfast."
Texan clicked his tongue. "Yeah. That one. Lucky us, huh?"
Behind them, Piper stood in the tall grass, hair swept over half her face. Her hum carried just enough charm to make the silence eerie. "You can feel it," she said, eyes half-lidded. "The air hums different here. Like the ground's scared."
Merrik knelt a few paces away, glass eye gleaming faintly in the twilight. He traced a second pattern in the dirt—smaller, more deliberate. "We're not the first ones through," he said. "See? Tracks. Orc boots. Twenty at least."
Texan leaned over. "Great. People dumb enough to walk where a world-eater naps."
"Or smart enough to try something stupid," Merrik replied, voice flat as stone.
They followed the tracks north, every sense on edge. Winter-green vines clawed at their boots. The smell of scorched soil and metal hung thick in the air. To mask their scent, Texan had them roll in the dirt — a simple, dirty trick that worked wonders in the field. Even Redd groaned through it.
"Never thought I'd be crawlin' like a mole," the ogre whispered.
"Think of it as camouflage," Texan said, crawling beside him. "You're too damn shiny."
They kept their heads low, slipping between cracked rocks and half-buried skeletons of old beasts. The deeper they moved, the fresher the prints became — some still steaming. And then they saw it.
A flicker of torchlight in the distance. A camp.
They crept closer through the grass, slow as breath. The smell of roasted meat drifted on the wind. A cluster of orcs lounged around a fire, their armor gleaming with golden trim — the sigil of the Sixth Princess stamped into their chests.
Texan motioned for silence, and the group settled into a low crouch just outside the circle of firelight. The orcs were laughing, loud and confident.
"…hunt went clean today," one said. "Still can't believe Her Highness thinks we can leash that thing," another replied. "She's clever, brother. If we pull this off—"
A voice cut through the noise — calm, commanding, the kind that made everyone else shut up.
"Enough. We know the plan. We've tracked it for three days. The serpent sleeps now, deeper than it will for months. "The orc stepped forward, big, sharp, eyes like black glass. "We strike now. We inject it with the blue tranquilizer, attach the slave collar and the orb of command. Once done, the Alpha bends to our will."
Piper's humming stopped cold. Texan's smirk returned, sharp and wild. "Yeah… or you all die screaming."
Redd blinked. "We're not… actually doing something, are we?"
Texan grinned. "Oh, we're absolutely doing something."
He crouched lower, whispering fast. "Merrik, you shoot that vial out of his hand. Piper, prep a distraction if things go south. Redd, you're backup — if we need noise, you're our cannon."
Redd cracked his knuckles. "Finally."
As the orc leader drew closer to the sleeping beast's den, Merrik drew his bow — smooth, silent, precise. His one good eye focused on the vial of shimmering blue liquid.
Twang. The arrow split the vial midair. A flash of blue fire burst, spilling across the orc's hand. He howled — then dropped like a puppet with cut strings.
In the same instant, Gumbo — hidden behind the rocks — threw his head back and howled.
The sound wasn't normal. It vibrated the bones — a sonar scream that rippled through dirt, air, and blood.
The ground trembled.
The grass flattened.
And from the mountain's edge, something shifted.
A hiss split the night — deep, slow, ancient. The Alpha stirred.
It was longer than rivers, scales molten red and black, like cooling magma caught mid-breath. Its eyes opened — twin furnaces.
And then it exhaled.
The breath alone melted trees.
The orcs froze. The leader tried to shout a command — too late.
The serpent's jaw unhinged, glowing white-hot from within. The earth cracked beneath its weight. Then —
BOOM.
A torrent of lava and fire burst from its mouth. A beam of pure molten death swept across the land, incinerating everything for half a mile.
The orcs were gone in a heartbeat — armor liquefied, tents vaporized, flesh turned to ash.
And then, just as suddenly as it had awoken — the beast sighed, coiled back into itself, and slept again.
Silence returned. The ground still steamed. The air smelled like metal and blood.
Texan stared at the blackened wasteland and muttered, voice barely a whisper."…Neptune's fuck."
Redd swallowed hard. "So, uh… we winnin'?"
Texan turned. "We're alive, ain't we?"
Behind him, Piper let out a long, shaky laugh — the kind that comes from surviving something you shouldn't have. "You're insane," she said.
Texan smirked. "Yeah. But it's working."
They didn't wait to see if the Alpha would wake again. They moved fast, silent, cutting through the burnt grass until the heat faded to something survivable.
Hours later, the horizon opened up — a glimmer of blue water cutting through the blackened soil. A wide pool, clear as glass, steam curling above its surface.
Texan stopped at the edge and peered down.
Below the surface, through the rippling blue, was a gate — a stone arch etched with glowing runes.
A dungeon.
He grinned, exhausted but exhilarated. "Looks like we found our next problem."
The campfire's embers burned low, sending thin ribbons of smoke into the humid air. The pool shimmered beneath the moonlight — black water edged with silver — hiding something ancient beneath.
Texan crouched at the rim, his reflection warping across the rippling surface. Piper stood beside him, her expression unreadable, pale hair fanning slightly from the mist rising off the pool.
"This is it," Texan murmured. "Dungeon's down there. You sure you're up for this?"
Piper's faint smile didn't reach her eyes. "Doesn't matter if I am. The water calls to us. "Her voice was light but heavy at the edges — sirens always sounded like they were whispering two things at once.
They slipped into the water silently. It was cold enough to bite. The deeper they swam, the darker it became, until even the moonlight above was swallowed whole. The dungeon's entrance glowed faintly ahead — a large circular arch of carved stone, runes trembling with blue luminescence.
Then, without warning, the runes pulsed and a barrier formed between them.
Only Texan passed through. Piper slammed her palm against the surface, but it might as well have been glass between worlds.
Texan turned, mouthing something like "It's fine. "Then he was gone, swallowed by the light.
Inside was silence — vast, crushing, perfect silence. The space looked like the inside of a god's tear: an endless, glowing ocean of air, and floating within it, ten spheres— shimmering orbs of soft light that swayed gently, like bubbles waiting to burst.
In front of them stood a tablet. The ancient runes glowed in thin threads of blue.
"You may enter any of the bubbles. Some carry treasure. Some carry death."
Texan exhaled through his nose. "Of course they do."
He chose the first bubble. The surface rippled when he touched it — like oil, like breathing glass. Inside was a chest, ornately carved and dustless, resting on a platform of light.
He opened it carefully. Inside lay a small, smooth button, etched with an inscription:
"Press to reforge the self." "Change your subclass — without consequence."
Texan whistled low. "Now that's my kind of gamble."
He pocketed it.
The next bubble exploded the instant he entered — heat, shards of light, and pain ripping through his ribs. He stumbled out gasping, clutching his side. Blood floated in the air, each droplet glowing faintly before fading into nothing. His regeneration didn't respond — sluggish, barely flickering under the skin.
"Okay… noted," he hissed through his teeth. "No healing down here. That's fair."
He pushed on.
Bubble three: empty, except for a broken mask. Bubble four: another explosion, this one burning his arm and neck. Bubble five: a flower glowing violet — its stem coiled like a question mark. When he touched it, warmth traveled up his palm.
"Allows retrieval of lost items. One use."
"Useful," he muttered, voice hoarse.
The sixth and seventh bubbles nearly killed him — both detonated with crushing force. By the time he reached the eighth, his shirt was torn, blood clouding the air like smoke. But when the next chest opened, a cool shimmer pulsed within — a silver potion.
"Cures all ailments — corruption, poison, decay."
Texan almost laughed. "Guess you're not all bad."
He took it, dragged himself toward the exit, and looked back once. The other bubbles hung motionless, glowing like cruel stars.
"Treasure or death," he muttered, half to himself. "Guess I picked both."
The water pressed down like a living thing as he swam upward. Each stroke hurt — slow, shaking, heavy. By the time he broke the surface, the air felt like knives.
He crawled out of the pool and lay there, gasping, letting his regeneration slowly restart. The pain was a dull roar now. Then he froze.
There was movement — the faint crunch of boots, the whisper of metal.
He looked up. Across the clearing stood the level 5 orc — the one from the First Prince's faction. Around him, Texan's group was bound, beaten, bloodied. Gumbo was slumped near the edge, chains digging into his scaled flesh.
Texan's mind flashed white-hot with rage. But he didn't move. Not yet.
He slipped quietly back into the water, clutching his wounds. He let himself sink and dropped the new treasures — the button, the flower, the potion — to the bottom of the pool, hiding them in the sand.
Then he activated the invisibility necklace, its faint hum vibrating against his neck.
He waited, watching.
The orc stood tall, armor pale in the moonlight. His expression was… wrong. Calm, but too calm — the stillness of someone who'd already decided who would live and die.
Texan was patient. He'd wait for his regeneration to catch up, then—
The orc's head tilted.
He sniffed the air.
Slowly, deliberately, his eyes tracked along the water's edge — right toward Texan.
Texan's breath hitched. No way…
The orc smirked.
Then his body began to glow, color draining from his skin until he turned completely white. Pale, spectral — like a ghost of himself. And with that same slow calm, he began to walk forward.
"That necklace," the orc said, his voice distorted, echoing like a drum underwater. "It was my brother's. Only he and I could see through it."
The words landed like a curse.
Texan turned to dive, but the water erupted behind him — the orc's hand clamped onto his leg. The pull was brutal, dragging him up and out.
"I'll take this back," the orc said. With a sharp jerk, he tore the necklace from Texan's throat.
The invisibility shattered.
Texan hung in the air, his body lifted effortlessly by the orc's strength, his feet kicking uselessly.
Gumbo roared from his chains — a broken, wounded sound that tore through the night. The other recruits looked away, trembling. Their loyalty wasn't forged deep enough to make them suicidal.
The orc smiled faintly, then drew a serrated blade.
"Let's see if you scream like he did."
The knife sank into Texan's leg.
At first, it was just pressure. Then pain — raw, nerve-deep agony that flared white behind his eyes. He screamed. The sound tore through the clearing, echoing off the rock walls.
Blood spilled in rhythmic drips, pattering against the stone below like rain.
Gumbo thrashed, his sonar scream building until the chains around him cracked — then snapped.
The orc turned, too slow.
The rhino-shark hybrid charged, horn lowered, roar shaking the ground —and the orc sliced once. Clean. Effortless. Gumbo fell mid-charge. It was a clean slice, then he was dead weight.
The orc wiped his blade against his leg. "Pathetic."
He turned to his soldiers. "Execute the rest."
One by one, muffled cries, wet sounds of steel through flesh. "For the glory of the First Prince," he murmured, almost bored.
Texan, half-conscious, swung his fist. It landed hard against the orc's jaw — not even enough to make the larger warrior stagger. It bought him one thing: distance, not because the grip was loosened but because of the last strands of muscle holding his leg together was torn.
He fell. Hit the ground. Crawled.
He crawled through mud and blood toward Gumbo's corpse, dragging himself with one arm, his right leg a mess of bone and muscle.
He reached him — the beast's still-warm hide. "Hey, buddy," Texan rasped, voice cracking. "We… did good, huh?"
The orc's shadow fell over him again.
Texan didn't look back.
A blade flashed.
Pain. Then nothing.
His arm hit the ground beside him with a dull slap.
"I'll make sure you die the slowest death," the orc whispered, almost gentle.
The world dimmed.
The smell of blood filled Texan's lungs. He could taste iron. The night swam and broke apart. The last thing he saw was Gumbo's eyes — empty, glassy, staring at nothing. Ten minutes passed, Texan regained his consciousness. He laid there, his party member's lifeless bodies were already being eaten by vulture-like creatures.
Gumbo's large frame still felt like it could move but no, there was nothing he could do. Texan cried for a while, but his hand's still moved he picked up his cut off arm and legs and wrapped bandages around them to reattach them to his body. If not for his regeneration this would not be possible, but he felt it. This was far too much for his power to handle, if something like this every happens again he will lose the ability whole.
He picked up one of the sword and began digging their graves. One by one he buried them, placed their belongings with them and then left. This was no time to mourn, the wild land's wouldn't forgive him, even now there were creatures just waiting for him to leave, so they could devour the remains.
Texan knew this but still decided this is what he would like to do. Then he left, heading south to find Himmel.