Kaelen had never felt fear.

  Or rather, not this kind of fear.

  Of course, he had felt fear many times in his life. When he was young, he feared punishment, feared the brute strength of the tribal leader, feared dying of thirst in the desert, or watching his people starve.

  Even the constant fear of not returning to his family after a patrol was something he had long grown used to.

  But those were external fears.

  They were problems with solutions, even if some of them were difficult.

  If there was an enemy, you fought.

  If there was hunger, you hunted.

  If there was thirst, you searched for water.

  There was always an action to be taken.

  However, the moment he entered the hall, the feeling was different.

  The fear he felt sank deep into his bones, ignoring all logic. It was not the fear of a spear or a storm.

  It was racial fear.

  Like the instinct of prey that had finally found its natural predator, the kind of terror engraved into the DNA of his species before he was even born.

  'This…' His legs began to tremble, every fiber of his being screaming for him to flee from that place as fast as possible.

  It was the first time he had ever felt this in all his years of life.

  Kaelen looked at the man on the throne, swallowing hard.

  Seated there, the figure leaned slightly to the side. Pale skin contrasted with the black hair that fell over his face, revealing crimson eyes. A cloak, the same color as those eyes, rested on his shoulders, fastened by dark ornaments crossing his chest.

  While one hand rested on the arm of the throne, the other supported his head, watching him and his group with curiosity.

  '…Human?'

  Kaelen had seen humans before.

  Adventurers occasionally crossed the Ash Desert, and he and his group had fought several in the past, killing them or being hunted by them many times.

  But none of them looked like that.

  "Who are you?" the figure on the throne suddenly asked. His voice was not loud, but it filled every corner of the hall, making Kaelen's ears ring.

  He did not hesitate.

  Survival instinct took over and he dropped to his knees instantly, smashing his forehead against the cold marble.

  His scouts delayed only a few seconds before imitating him.

  "My name is Kaelen!" he exclaimed, his voice coming out more shaken than he would have liked. "We are Cindralisks, the desert lizards. We come in the name of the Obsidian Fang Tribe."

  He kept his head lowered, not daring to look at the 'Sovereign' without permission.

  "Interesting."

  The man did not seem impressed. Only curious, like someone observing something new.

  "What do you want?"

  He asked again, his lips curling into a subtle smile, revealing two sharp canines.

  Kaelen took a deep breath, the cold air burning his lungs.

  "We were sent by our tribe to establish contact. Your… your mountain appeared in our lands. The people of the desert are uneasy. We come in peace to greet you and understand your intentions."

  Under the cloth, sweat ran down, soaking his snout as he waited for the answer.

  The other four lizards remained silent the entire time, not daring to say anything, leaving Kaelen to handle the situation.

  The Sovereign remained silent for a few seconds.

  No one dared speak.

  "How many like you exist? Speak more." he spoke again, his calm voice breaking the silence.

  Kaelen lifted his body slightly from the ground, bracing himself on trembling arms.

  He did not dare stand fully, keeping a submissive posture as the words began to spill from his mouth.

  "Many, my Lord. Thousands!" Kaelen spoke quickly. "The Ash Desert is vast, but life is not on the surface. All the great civilizations of this desert were built beneath the sand to escape the sun and the storms."

  He paused briefly to catch his breath, feeling the eyes of one of the commanders on him, urging him not to stop.

  "There are dozens of Cindralisk tribes like mine spread across nest-cities connected by deep tunnels. But we are not the only ones. There are also the Sediment Devourers, giant worms that live underground, carving tunnels."

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  ...

  "Besides them, there are the Red-Tail Scorpions. Heavy-shelled monsters that dominate the lowest rifts. In the dunes live the Carapace Spiders. They are monsters covered in chitin as hard as steel and… "

  ...

  "And in the deeper sand currents, the Dark Sand Worms and the Horned Serpents share territory. They are predators that swim through the sediment and sense the heat of any creature from kilometers away…"

  Kaelen swallowed, trying to keep the rhythm of his explanations.

  ...

  "Other monsters—"

  "That is enough."

  When he was prepared to continue, fearing it might not be sufficient, the Sovereign raised his hand, interrupting him.

  Kaelen fell silent, his chest rising and falling from the effort of speaking so much. His throat was so dry it felt as if he had swallowed sand.

  "Is there any city nearby?" the Sovereign asked again, but his tone sounded a little more impatient.

  Kaelen hesitated.

  He tried to organize the information in his mind while sweat ran down. "To the south… far to the south." he said, his voice still unsteady.

  "I have heard stories of a human city called Luminaris. But the desert is immense. We have never gone that far to confirm it. I ask forgiveness for the lack of information, my Lord."

  The hall fell into absolute silence.

  Kaelen felt his heart pounding in his throat.

  The other scouts were frozen, not even daring to breathe.

  They waited for the sentence.

  "Very well." the Sovereign said. "I have received your tribe's greeting." He shifted his gaze to the small servant with the crooked top hat who had brought them there and said, "Pippin, take them back. They may leave now."

  Kaelen froze for a second.

  Did he hear that right? He clenched his fists tightly.

  Suddenly, a wave of heat surged through his chest.

  It was a violent feeling of relief.

  Kaelen felt an absurd urge to run and scream until his lungs burned.

  "Th-thank you, Sovereign!" he said, bowing one last time. He gave a quick signal to the group. They rose quickly, their movements clumsy from staying in the same position for too long.

  "Follow me." Pippin squeaked, adjusting the top hat on his bald head and starting to walk toward the exit of the hall.

  The group followed quickly, keeping their eyes low, wanting to vanish from that hall before the man on the throne changed his mind.

  Kaelen swore he would never return to that place.

  Mark watched in silence as the group of lizards withdrew. The sound of claws striking marble faded until the great doors of the hall closed with a dull boom.

  He let out an inner sigh, relaxing his posture on the throne and resting his face in his palm.

  There was a hint of disappointment in his thoughts.

  '…Just Cindralisks?'

  Mark closed his eyes for a moment, searching his memories from the time when all of this was just a game.

  He remembered that race well. At the beginning of his journey in Ziggurat, when he was still leveling up and consolidating his power, tribes of lizards like that often invaded the outskirts of his territory.

  Back then, they were just annoying mobs. Common monsters meant for easy experience. He never even considered them a real threat.

  He had prepared himself expecting something else, but they were only lizards.

  However, something bothered him.

  The Cindralisks who had just left seemed… different. More organized. The leader, Kaelen, spoke with a clarity Mark did not remember seeing in the game's records.

  'They seem much more civilized now.' Mark frowned slightly.

  But soon he dismissed the thought with a half-smile.

  Maybe it was just his memory playing tricks on him. After all, in the game there was no diplomacy with low-level monsters. He could not talk to them or understand their motivations.

  All he saw were creatures growling incomprehensible jargon and charging wildly, only to be swept away by his area spells seconds later.

  They died so easily that Mark never bothered to observe whether they had culture or cities beneath the earth.

  Still, he had to admit, hearing Kaelen describe the desert stirred his curiosity.

  'The Ash Desert…'

  Mark repeated the name mentally.

  So that was what this place was called?

  He had never heard that term in the game. In fact, Mark was not even sure Ziggurat was located in a place with that name in the original version.

  Everything felt familiar and, at the same time, completely new.

  The city of Luminaris to the south was also an unknown.

  That sparked genuine curiosity.

  If the Ash Desert was as vast as Kaelen described, and his tribe noticed the presence of the mountain enough to send scouts in the middle of the night, other tribes would visit as well.

  The desert, which once seemed like a desolate void around his fortress, now felt like an anthill of subterranean races.

  While Mark lost himself in those possibilities, a soft, cold voice cut through the silence.

  "Sovereign?"

  Mark blinked, snapping out of his trance. He looked to the side and saw Carmilla watching him. Only then did he remember that his four commanders were still there, kneeling at the foot of the throne.

  They were really good at staying silent.

  So good that Mark almost forgot he was not alone in the hall.

  "You may rise." Mark ordered the commanders and looked at Carmilla, waiting for her to speak.

  The four commanders obeyed in unison, rising slowly, contrasting with the clumsy rush of the lizards who had just left.

  "Sovereign…" Carmilla whispered, taking a step forward. Her red eyes shone with restrained doubt. "Are you truly going to let those inferior lives leave Ziggurat like that?"

  She quickly lowered her head, realizing her tone. "It was not my intention to question your wisdom, Sovereign."

  Karkinos released a dry sound that resembled clashing shells. "I agree with Carmilla. After a thousand years, they were the first intruders to step here."

  While the two spoke, Malphas and Elizabeth remained in absolute silence, as if waiting only for their master's final word.

  Mark merely shook his head slightly, recovering his imposing posture, though the mental fatigue of dealing with diplomatic 'mobs' was still there.

  "You wouldn't understand."

  Silence returned instantly.

  That single sentence was enough to make Carmilla and Karkinos fall quiet.

  At that moment, the great doors of the hall opened again.

  It was Hermos.

  He entered with impeccable posture. The white suit still pristine, and his bat-like head still a sight Mark was getting used to.

  Right behind him, little Pippin hopped along, trying to keep pace while adjusting the top hat on his head.

  The contrast between the two members of the Winged Clan — the imposing butler and the servant — was peculiar.

  "Sovereign." Hermos bowed deeply. "I followed them from the moment they set foot in Ziggurat until the moment they left. I was positioned, ready to eliminate them if they showed any sign of threat."

  Mark nodded.

  He had ordered Hermos to go out, and he would not allow unknown scouts to wander freely without supervision.

  That was why the butler had not been in the hall when the lizards arrived.

  "So?" Mark looked at the smaller servant.

  "I took them to the gates, master!" Pippin squeaked, excitement shining in his eyes. "They said their farewells in a hurry. The moment the gates opened and they saw the sand, they ran."

  Mark felt slightly stunned inside.

  Was he that scary?

  "Good." Mark rose from the throne, his red cloak floating lightly. "Stay alert for any movement in the desert. If Kaelen's stories are true, we won't be ignored for long."

  He looked at his commanders and servants.

  "You are dismissed. Return to your posts."

  "Yes!" The commanders and servants bowed in sync, preparing to return to their duties.

  However, Carmilla hesitated for a moment, watching Mark's silhouette against the throne.

  "Sovereign?" she called softly, her eyes fixed on him. "What do you intend to do now?"

  Mark did not answer immediately.

  He looked at the great closed doors, feeling the stagnant air of the hall, and ran his tongue over his lips, moistening them with a glint of anticipation in his eyes.

  "I'll check the south."