Kaelan opens his eyes from cultivation as memory flows back into him from his clone.
The transmission settles within his mind smoothly, images and impressions aligning without resistance.
A thoughtful expression appears in his eyes as he understands what the new faction of the Church of Disaster is attempting to accomplish with the alchemy items he created.
The cursed alchemy items are designed to absorb negative emotions.
Fear.
Despair.
Hatred.
Anger.
Those emotions are gathered silently and transferred to their master.
He does not know why the Lord of Disaster requires negative emotions.
The intention remains obscured.
But one explanation forms naturally in his mind.
The Lord of Disaster may be absorbing negative emotions for cultivation.
Emotions are energy.
Dense.
Powerful.
Difficult to refine, yet potent when controlled.
If properly converted, such energy could accelerate growth far beyond ordinary spiritual absorption.
Kaelan exhales slowly.
The alchemy array surrounding him dims.
Runes fade.
Circulating energy halts.
The array stops providing him with spiritual energy.
He does not move to collect the alchemy stones embedded within it.
They remain arranged in their precise geometric pattern.
He stands up.
There is no urgency in his movement.
Only mild boredom.
After several days of rest, he will return to cultivate again.
For now, accumulation continues steadily within his body.
He is gathering power for a breakthrough.
Before the next change of the world arrives, he intends to step into the Title Alchemist Stage.
That threshold will alter everything.
He turns and walks out of the underground temple.
Stone corridors stretch upward.
He climbs the stairs without haste.
When he reaches the exit, sunlight pours down upon him.
He pauses.
Sighs faintly.
The sun's rays fall directly on his figure.
The desert heat here can melt stone over time.
The air shimmers above sand and rock.
Yet the heat does not affect him.
His body remains cool.
Untroubled.
He could fly.
Return instantly to Mahal City, the central city of the Golden Sand Continent.
The headquarters of the Sand Temple.
The heart of the Alchemist Association.
But he does not.
Instead, he begins walking.
Leisurely.
Unhurried.
Across the burning land, heat waves ripple over endless dunes.
The silence fractures.
From the western horizon, a group of young people rides hard across the desert.
Their horned horses kick up plumes of sand.
Terror is written plainly across their faces.
They shout to one another, pulling sharply on the reins, urging their mounts faster.
Behind them, the sand erupts.
A massive Tier Three Sand Worm bursts upward, its upper body rising high above the dunes before crashing down again.
Its cylindrical body is as thick as a tower.
Its skin is plated in layered chitin hardened by desert life.
It dives forward through sand as if through water.
Moments later, it bursts out again ahead of where it submerged.
Each emergence is accompanied by a shrill screech that vibrates across the desert air.
Its circular mouth opens wide, revealing multiple rings of serrated teeth rotating inward.
The young riders push their horses to their limits.
The worm closes the distance with terrifying speed.
Unaware, Kaelan continues walking leisurely along his path.
From a distance, he first hears the thunder of hooves.
Then he perceives the fluctuation of a Tier Three creature moving beneath the sand.
His gaze shifts slightly.
The group races directly toward him.
Among them, a young woman wearing violet desert garments stands out.
Her silver eyes gleam sharply even amid panic.
When she sees Kaelan ahead, walking calmly in the worm's path, her expression changes to alarm.
"Hey! Run away!" she shouts.
Her voice carries clearly across the heat.
"Run away!"
Kaelan looks at them.
He does not quicken his pace.
He does not step aside.
The horned horses thunder past him, sand spraying in all directions.
The riders glance back in fear.
They expect to see him devoured.
Moments later, the sand explodes.
The Sand Worm towers over Kaelan, its upper body casting a massive shadow.
It dives downward.
But not onto him.
It plunges into the sand directly in front of him.
A heartbeat later, it rises again from that exact spot.
Its massive body bends low.
Instead of attacking,
It lowers its head.
And begins circling him.
Like a dog greeting its master.
The massive Sand Worm lowers its upper body and rolls partially onto its side, its enormous frame grinding against the hot desert sand in a strangely submissive display.
Sand Worms possess no eyes, no ears, no nose.
Instead, countless tiny hairs covering their thick chitinous skin sense vibration through the ground.
They perceive the world through tremors.
Through shifts in spiritual fluctuations.
Ordinary spirit sense is dulled around them, diminished by the strange field their bodies naturally emit.
Yet through that very perception, the Sand Worm recognises Kaelan.
Deep within its inherited memory, his life signature is engraved as master.
The imprint is absolute.
The young riders stare back in disbelief.
Their horses slow instinctively.
Reins are pulled tight.
A creature capable of swallowing armoured caravans whole now circles a lone man as though seeking praise.
The scene shatters their understanding.
Kaelan's gaze drifts across them calmly.
Then it settles upon the woman who had shouted for him to run.
Her golden skin glows beneath desert sunlight.
Silver eyes shine like polished metal.
Her pear-shaped face is both strong and refined.
Something tightens faintly in Kaelan's chest.
A subtle stirring.
He thinks clearly, without denial.
I am attracted to this woman.
The realisation surprises him more than the Sand Worm's obedience.
He sends a silent command through spiritual resonance.
The Sand Worm lets out a reluctant, low-frequency cry.
Its body coils once more around him before diving smoothly into the sand.
Within seconds, only rippling dunes remain.
Kaelan resumes walking toward Mahal City as if nothing unusual occurred.
He examines his own thoughts.
The woman is not the most beautiful in the world.
She is only an alchemist apprentice.
Her aura is modest.
Her cultivation unremarkable.
Then I should not be attracted to her.
With a mere wave of his hand, he could summon women of far greater beauty and talent.
Yet the feeling persists.
Quiet.
Unreasonable.
The young riders guide their horned horses alongside him at a respectful distance.
One of the young men clears his throat.
"Sir, are you going to Mahal City? You can ride with me."
Kaelan glances briefly at him and shakes his head.
"No need."
They ride in silence for several steps before another woman gathers courage.
"Sir, why was the Sand Worm behaving like your pet?"
Kaelan answers evenly.
"I don't know."
He does not elaborate.
His pace remains unchanged.
The group exchanges uncertain glances.
They sense clearly that the man has no interest in conversation.
Yet the woman with silver eyes nudges her horse closer.
Her voice is steady now.
"Sir, thank you for saving our lives. My name is Verena, from the House of Aat-Tjehent. If you need any help, you can come to my house."
The others follow her example.
They offer thanks.
State their names.
Bow slightly from horseback.
Then, with one last look of lingering curiosity, they spur their mounts and ride ahead toward the distant shimmer of Mahal City.
Kaelan continues alone across the burning land.
The sun presses down.
Wind moves over dunes.
And he wonders what he will do with this unfamiliar attraction.
Ahead of him, Verena rides with her companions across the rolling dunes.
The tension from moments earlier gradually fades, replaced by animated discussion.
One of the young men breaks the silence.
"He must be an alchemist."
Another nods quickly.
"At least an official alchemist."
A young woman tilts her head.
"He looks young."
A chuckle follows.
"Kiya, you do know alchemists can live hundreds of years or more once they transform their bodies."
Kiya snorts lightly but does not argue.
Her curiosity shifts instead.
"Verena, what do you think? Why was the Sand Worm behaving like his pet?"
Verena remains silent for a few strides, her silver eyes focused ahead.
Then she answers thoughtfully.
"I once read in an ancient history book that during the invasion of the Holy Empire, some of our people controlled Sand Worms to attack the invaders."
The others exchange looks.
They know the story.
The desert swallowed armies whole.
Massive worms are turning battlefields into graves of sand.
Verena continues, voice steady.
"So he must be a descendant of the Golden Tribe."
The Golden Tribe.
The first tribe to worship their God.
The God of Sand.
The Ancestor of Alchemists.
Long ago, they held unmatched authority in desert lands.
But history shifted.
The tribe fractured.
Mixed into noble houses.
Separated over generations.
Now the Golden Tribe exists only as lineage threads woven through different families.
Still, some houses with faint Golden blood continue to control clerical roles within the Sand Temple.
Another rider glances back toward where Kaelan still walks in the distance.
"He must not be from the city. We have never seen him before."
Their speculation continues until the dunes thin and stone structures begin to rise from the horizon.
The Holy Pyramids come into view.
Massive.
Ancient.
Their golden surfaces reflect the sun like burning mirrors.
Mahal City spreads around them, walls shimmering in the heat.
Conversation shifts naturally.
Kiya nudges her horse closer to Verena.
"Verena, are you going to say yes to Maelak's proposal?"
Verena's expression remains calm.
"He has to defeat me tonight first."
Her tone carries confidence rather than arrogance.
She presses her heels lightly.
Her horse surges forward.
Sand sprays behind her as she rides faster toward the Holy Pyramids.