Chapter 6: Trial of Will

Even by rough estimates, I couldn't tell how deep Si Wong Rock went or just how many bugs dwelled within. There was a reason this place was whispered to be the most dangerous spot in the entire desert; the deceptive ease of killing a few vulture-wasps earlier didn't fool me. Thus, with a racing heart and immense trepidation, I stood before the entrance to their lair, staring into tunnels that spiraled into the dark, their walls dripping with a foul, green fluid. From within came the low, rhythmic thrum of buzzing.

"To fulfill Anubis's commands, and even just to find food, I’ll have to go in. But this slime alone makes my skin crawl," I muttered, touching the viscous substance and rubbing it between my fingers. I wasn't an expert on the mutated fauna of this world, but I guessed it was honey, likely made of flesh, given there was no other raw material in this wasteland besides the carcasses of animals. "It's like I’m stuck in Australia... and there’s another problem."

No sand blew into these caves, meaning I could only use what I brought with me. Carrying it by hand or in small pouches wouldn't last; after a few hours, the constant magical strain of keeping it suspended would drain me dry. I needed a trick, a technique used by one of the most famous sand-users from a popular anime. Taking a mass of sand, I molded it into a relatively small reservoir and compressed it until it reached the density of sandstone. The result was a gourd-like vessel, much like the one Gaara carried on his back.

I strapped it to my back, poured the rest of my sand inside, and marveled at the convenience.

"Heh. Anime saves the day," I thought. Recalling the impressive sand armor used by the desert bandits, I wanted to try making my own, but I wasn't there yet.

Beneath my feet, the disgusting sludge squelched. Forcing myself to ignore it, I moved deeper into the gloom, concentrating for a second on the trials of Anubis. The choice between honing melee or ranged techniques still hovered before me. The choice was obvious; to avoid losing my mind to endless kiting, I went with the first: ten thousand whip-strikes against the enemy.

"I wonder... where am I going to find ten thousand enemies?" I blinked innocently. Before I could process the thought, I nearly tumbled into a gargantuan pit. At the last second, I latched onto the walls with sand... and beheld a massive cavern. Enormous pillars were encrusted with a red, veined substance. Strange little beetles with glowing abdomens clung to the ceiling, casting a dim, sickly light over the hive. Worker drones flew through the air, and dog-sized larvae writhed within the pillars. Everywhere I looked, something was buzzing. In the center of this wild cavern was a vast hole, its sides drenched in the same flowing green mixture.

It was a lovely view. Australia had nothing on this. Every instinct screamed at me to turn around and run, but the problem was the wasps' compound eyes—they saw everything. A pair of creatures patrolling near the tunnels spotted me. They let out a loud drone and, intent on defending the nest, charged with their stingers bared.

Propelling myself back into the corridor with sand-limbs, I watched as a massive stinger pierced the solid rock right where I had been. Unlike ordinary bees, these monsters didn't leave their stingers behind to die. The wasp calmly withdrew its weapon, shook itself, and, jostling its kin, surged back into the fray. With no other choice, I drew sand from my "gourd" and lashed out at my foes with sharpened tentacles. The carapaces split instantly.

[3 / 10,000]

The thought crossed my mind that this might be easy. But a noise from behind and a roar three times as loud from the hive crushed that hope. The pheromones of the dead wasps were drawing their kin in double the numbers. Seeing the swarm approaching, I swallowed hard and began to spin like a sand tornado, just as I had in training with Bael and Hamri.

Squelch. Crunch. Crack.

The whips moved in tandem with my hands, easily piercing their exoskeletons. Following my internal directives, I made sure the edges of the sand were always honed to a razor's sharpness; a single slip-up meant death. But I wasn't the only one being clever. The wasps, sensing a threat, began burrowing through the walls. From above and from the sides, the tunnel walls began to crumble as they swarmed me like locusts. My mind traitorously urged me to flee, to break through the crowd and escape this hellhole, but I sensed my bending might not approve.

"We aren't good at avoiding blows. To deflect attacks smoothly while standing firm, that is where our strength lies." My father's words echoed in my mind, and I planted my feet. I couldn't rely on luck. Only on my skill.

BOOM!

Sensing cracks forming beneath my feet, I shifted smoothly to the side and drove a pair of sharp blades into the head of a burrowing bug. In that moment, a stinger grazed my arm, sending my heart into overdrive. Recovering my stance, I swept away the nearest bugs with a calculated strike.

******

My exhausted eyes stared at a three-digit number that felt far too small. Three hundred and fifteen strikes. Not bad, considering each strike usually took out one or two of them. But looking at the total required, my arms felt like lead, not from depression, but from sheer, bone-deep fatigue. Sitting in a makeshift bunker created with the basics of Earthbending, I barely had the strength to bandage the day's wounds. My speed wasn't always enough; I couldn't accelerate sand to the same velocity as my father yet. My stomach was empty... but all I had managed to scavenge was the abdomen of one wasp.

"Dammit!"

I grabbed the meat and quickly dried it to neutralize most of the toxins. It tasted like nothing but sand... certainly not the juicy fruit that had prompted this journey. As for water... the blood of these creatures was my only option. I knew it was a bad idea, but Anubis gave no warning. I stained my hands in the green fluid, which felt like oily slime, and brought it to my lips. With a single gulp, the foul substance coated my insides like grease.

My body buckled with a spasm, trying to reject what I’d forced down. But I clamped my mouth shut, forcing myself to keep it in. Losing the moisture would only make things worse.

It took hours to choke down enough to get some semblance of calories. Leaning against the wall in true misery, I pulled out my hourglass and gripped it tightly. The last grains were about to fall.

"...Evening. Soon a new day begins... I need to sleep." I watched the last grain drop. The glass flipped itself over, and the count began anew.

Morning brought no joy, only a sickening taste in my mouth. With a grimace, I filled my stomach with another portion of horror. When it was time to move out, I touched the wall where I’d made small air holes and formed a passage with trembling hands. Without realizing it, I began moving through the corridors with far more caution, pressing myself against the ground with every movement. When I heard the buzz of a pair of bugs heading my way, I stood ready and formed my sand blades.

Shh-shh-shh!

"What?!" The blades only partially penetrated. The wasps didn't fall; they kept coming. I... was severely dehydrated and exhausted, my chi levels struggling to recover.

[Continue training.]

The text appearing before my eyes felt strangely ominous. Gritting my teeth, I was forced to dive to the side to avoid being impaled, then drove a pair of sharp stakes back into my enemies. It took twice as many strikes, but the opponents were dead. Anubis counted the hits nonetheless.

Yesterday, when I had tried to hack at a dead body to pad the score, he hadn't counted them.

"One left," I panted, my hands shaking. This single wasp somehow felt faster than ten of them yesterday. If the whole day was going to be like this, I’d be surrounded and eaten in minutes. Recalling how I had been pulled from the boat by a sand whip, I snapped my eyes open and launched a sand-hook into the ceiling, yanking myself out of the way. I planted my feet firmly on the "inverted" floor and struck with everything I had. Only after several extra movements and triple the effort was the small group dealt with.

And yet, I looked around in surprise.

"Why didn't I think of moving with grapples before? This is efficient." But it drained even more energy. Exhaling, I dropped down and trudged further into the gloom. At the same time, sand from my gourd began to slowly flow around my body, forming a protective mantle against piercing attacks. Today, it would be taking a lot of hits.

Whoosh.

Approaching the edge of the corridor where the gargantuan hive began, I clenched my fists. Yesterday, I never would have dared to enter this open space... but today, my survival depended on having room to move.

Leaning over the edge, I fired several sand-ropes into the wall and lowered myself down. Below, a swarm of deadly, agitated killers was already waiting. Those cold, compound eyes hungered for vengeance.

"...Sorry."