Chapter 34 – The Night Bloom
The desert was a living furnace by day, but at night it cooled into something worse—something patient.
Every dune looked the same, every shadow whispered the same lie: nothing lives here.
John knew better.
He led the way across the dark expanse, Ember padding at his side. The Lumibear's paws left faint trails of gold that the wind erased in seconds. Tamara followed silently, cloak drawn tight, frost glittering on her sleeves. Blake moved behind them, one dagger twirling between his fingers, the other tucked at his belt. None of them spoke.
The moon burned cold above the dunes.
Somewhere east, the air trembled faintly—the pulse Alaric had described.
"There," the spirit murmured in his mind. "The Light Cactus waits. It blooms only once in a hundred years."
John didn't answer. He felt it too—a heartbeat under the sand, light gathering beneath the crust of the world.
They crested a rise, and the desert fell away before them.
A shallow basin spread below, its walls black glass, edges carved by wind into jagged ribs. At its center stood the cactus—a pillar of crystal shot through with veins of blue and gold. Two long leaves arched from its sides, trembling in the night wind.
At the top, a closed bud glowed softly, gold light pressing against translucent petals.
Blake whistled. "That's what's gonna make us rich?."
Tamara's eyes narrowed. "It's too quiet."
The ground rumbled.
Sand cracked. A mound lifted from the far edge of the basin and kept rising until it was taller than the cactus itself. Scales of stone peeled away, revealing molten seams beneath. Two eyes like burning coals opened and fixed on them.
A Rock Snake—E-Rank, Second Step. Its body was thick as a house beam, the weight of it making the earth groan.
Alaric's voice sharpened inside John's chest.
"Careful, boy. That one's no hatchling. Its hide drinks light. Its breath melts steel."
John drew his short sword. "Then we don't let it breathe."
The serpent struck first, its movement a blur of stone and smoke. The ground exploded where John had stood. He rolled, heat licking at his back as molten sand sprayed upward.
"Split!" he shouted.
Tamara darted left, her frost aura flaring. Blake vanished into shadow on the right. Ember lowered himself and roared, a rolling thunder that shook the basin.
The snake turned toward the sound, tail lashing. Ember met it head-on, claws igniting with white-gold light. The impact cracked the air like a thunderclap. Fire and dust fountained upward.
John moved with the chaos—fast, low, silent. He circled to the flank, sword glowing faint amber as he poured Light through the edge. The serpent's scales shimmered, deflecting the first strike with a burst of sparks.
Too hard.
He shifted his stance, sliding one hand down the blade's spine. He drew a slow breath, then slashed again—this time downward, driving Light like a wedge instead of a blade. The edge bit through a seam near the creature's jaw, shallow but real. Black ichor hissed onto the sand, smoking.
The serpent shrieked—a sound that made the dunes vibrate.
Tamara raised both hands. "Fracture!"
A shockwave of ice tore across the basin, coating the serpent's lower body. Steam billowed as the freezing aura met molten skin. The serpent convulsed, shattering the ice but leaving its scales brittle.
"Now!" she yelled.
Ember lunged again, ramming his shoulder into its throat. The beast staggered, half-buried in its own crater.
John didn't hesitate. He sprinted straight at the serpent's head. When its mouth opened, he jumped, landing on the edge of a tooth as long as his arm. Heat blasted up his face. He drove his sword down through the roof of its mouth—fire meeting fire.
The creature roared, throwing its head back. John held on, teeth clenched, blade buried deep. Light flared from within the wound, racing down the serpent's body in pulsing veins of gold.
Alaric's voice thundered through his bones.
"Now, boy—finish it!"
John pulled his free hand back, gathering Light at his palm until his vision blurred white. He slammed it against the serpent's skull.
The explosion lit the desert like dawn.
The Rock Snake collapsed, its body folding in on itself. For a long moment, only the sound of molten rock cooling filled the basin. Then, slowly, the creature's glow faded to dull gray.
John dropped to the sand, knees bending on impact. The serpent's blood steamed around him, black glass spreading where it touched the ground. He breathed once. Twice.
Then it was over.
The cactus was open.
Somewhere in the chaos, its petals had begun to unfurl. Golden light spilled from the bloom, washing over the battlefield. The air hummed with power—warm, sweet, alive. The glow painted their skin in sunlight.
Tamara stepped forward, eyes wide. "It's… beautiful."
John approached carefully. Heat radiated from the plant, but not the kind that burned—it pulsed, like a living heartbeat. Two radiant leaves glowed brighter now, drawing energy from the flower above.
"One flower," Alaric said softly. "Two leaves. Each leaf can raise a cultivator to the first step of the Light Spiritualist Realm. The flower itself… its essence is beyond your current craft. Sell it. Trade it. But do not waste it."
John nodded. He slid his knife from his belt, cutting cleanly through the stem of each leaf. The glow dimmed, curling inward like captured lightning. He placed them carefully into a silk pouch.
Then, steady hands and slow breath, he severed the flower itself. The golden petals quivered once, then stilled. The scent that rose was like rain on hot stone.
He held the blossom for a moment, feeling its warmth seep into his fingers.
"Tamara. Blake." He turned. "These two are yours."
Blake frowned. "You're serious?"
John tied the pouch to his belt. "The leaves. One each. When the time's right, they'll help you break through."
Tamara shook her head. "And you?"
"I can't use the flower yet," he said. "It's above my alchemy level. But it'll buy what we need when we reach the city."
Alaric's voice hummed with quiet pride.
"A leader who knows patience. Good."
Ember padded over, fur glowing faintly in the aftermath of battle. He nudged John's shoulder, snorting warm air.
"Yeah," John muttered, scratching his neck. "You did good."
Blake crouched by the dead serpent, prying a shimmering core from the cracked skull. "E-Rank, step two. This'll sell for a small fortune."
John put it inside the storage ring.
Tamara touched the cactus's stem, frost swirling around her fingertips. The plant had begun to fade, its body turning translucent. Soon it would crumble, leaving nothing but dust and legend.
She looked at John. "We should go before something follows the light."
He nodded.
They mounted Ember, the Lumibear rising beneath them like a living furnace. As they rode from the basin, John glanced back. The cactus was already gone, its glow absorbed into the dunes. Only a faint shimmer lingered, like the ghost of a star sinking below the horizon.
The desert stretched endlessly ahead.
Far in the south, the horizon pulsed with faint red light—a reflection of something vast and hidden.
"The city," Tamara whispered.
Blake exhaled, relief and greed tangled in the sound. "Finally."
John didn't answer. His thoughts were with the flower in his ring, still glowing faintly against his chest. He could feel Alaric's satisfaction, calm and proud.
"You've begun to walk your path, boy," the spirit said. "A cultivator's road is built on what he dares to claim. Tonight, you claimed a century's worth of light."
John's gaze stayed on the horizon. "Then tomorrow, we keep going."
The wind rose, scattering silver sand across their tracks. Behind them, the basin fell silent once more. Ahead, the shadow of the desert city waited—a place where power, knowledge, and danger lived side by side beneath a sunless sky.