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TGGG — Chapter 92: Sandstorm!
🕑 Added 2025-09-15 02:37:45 +0000 UTCThe storm roared closer with terrifying speed. What had seemed distant only moments ago now devoured half the sky, a raging wall of sand and fury bearing down on us. The oasis lay just straight ahead, but the storm would overtake us long before we could reach it. We had to act now, or we’d be buried alive.
“Find cover, now!” I shouted, already scanning the dunes for any place we could use to hide against the sandstorm.
Boris cursed under his breath. “That thing’ll tear us apart if we’re caught in the open!”
Unfortunately, the cave was too far from our current location, and it would take at least half an hour even at a full sprint. The oasis was worse, a good hour away, and no matter how fast we ran, the storm would consume us first. Either way, both options meant certain death since we couldn’t reach them in time.
Michelle’s gaze darted wildly, her braids whipping in the rising gust. “There!” She pointed toward a cluster of uneven dunes, where a depression might provide some shelter. “If we can’t reach the cave again, we’ll have to take cover there!”
I clenched my jaw. The oasis was right in front of us, but with the storm rushing at us like a beast, trying to reach it would be suicide. “Forget the oasis! We won’t survive if we’re buried alive. Move!”
We broke into a sprint, boots sinking into the shifting sand with every desperate step. Each step felt slower than the last, the wind battering against us like invisible fists. I quickly used Fast Equip to don the Runed Cloak of Lesser Haste and pulled it tight around my face. Even so, the cloak couldn’t keep the grains from cutting into my skin like glass splinters, nor stop the sting in my eyes. Breathing grew harsher as the air thickened with choking dust.
The storm was almost upon us now, becoming a deafening howl that drowned out all else. The dunes we aimed for seemed to crawl closer inch by inch, while the storm devoured the distance behind us at an alarming speed.
“Keep moving!” I shouted, forcing the words through clenched teeth. My voice was swallowed almost instantly by the howling gale, but Boris and Michelle heard me, heads bowed as they pressed on.
The first true gust of the sandstorm slammed into us like a giant’s fist. My footing slipped, and I barely steadied myself with my spear. Michelle stumbled, catching herself on one knee, while Boris powered forward through sheer strength, shielding us from the worst of the wind with his steel-coated bulk as his Adamant Flesh activated.
“Almost there!” he roared over the chaos.
The depression in the dunes finally came into reach. I grabbed Michelle’s arm and pulled her down with me, sliding the last few meters into the hollow. Boris followed right after, half-diving into the sand to land beside us. Immediately, we huddled close, pressing against the leeward side of the dune as the storm unleashed its full wrath.
“Steel Form: Shields!” Boris bellowed. His forearms reshaped instantly into broad steel plates, locking together to form a protective barrier. The makeshift wall braced against the fury of the storm, sparing us from its worst as we clung to the ground, enduring the desert’s wrath.
“Michelle, use Nature’s Split!” I instructed, switching the spear for Howling Edge.
Michelle nodded and drew her twin axes before slamming them against the ground. Roots burst up from beneath the sand, wrapping around us in a tangled barrier. Because the ground was sandy, the roots grew thinner and weaker than usual, lacking the sturdiness of stone or soil. Still, they formed a cocoon tight enough to keep us from being blown away.
The world beyond quickly turned into a maelstrom of sand and noise. The sky vanished completely, replaced by a suffocating darkness filled with flying grit. Sand battered against us relentlessly, each particle like a hot spark against our skin. The dunes around us groaned under the storm’s weight, collapsing and changing in avalanches that threatened to bury us alive.
Even with Boris’s steel shields and Michelle’s summoned roots, the storm pressed against us with crushing weight. Sand particles forced their way through every gap, scraping at our eyes, our throats, trying to worm into our lungs and choke us from the inside.
No good. If we only held out, we’d suffocate long before the storm ended. I clenched my grip on Howling Edge, feeling the tempestuous runes thrum with power. This wasn’t a battle we could survive by cowering—I had to fight wind with wind. Fire with fire!
“Windstorm!”
The blade howled as I swung, releasing a compressed blast of tempestuous energy. A shrieking gale exploded outward, carving a funnel through the sandstorm. For a fleeting moment, the suffocating weight lifted, the air clearing just enough for us to breathe.
The roots shuddered under the backlash but held firm, reinforced by the sudden countercurrent. Outside, the sandstorm reeled violently against my Windstorm, the two tempests colliding in a deafening frenzy of grinding air and shrieking sand. Sparks crackled across the blade as it fought to sustain the torrent, and the backlash rattled through my arms.
Boris gritted his teeth behind his steel shields. “That’s it, Maxim—keep it steady!”
“I’m trying!” The strain tore into my muscles as I fought against the unrelenting fury of the sandstorm. Mana drained from me like water into a cracked vessel, and it felt like I was feeding a bottomless pit. This sandstorm wasn’t like the mild ones I remembered seeing on Earth; it was much, much more violent, as if alive and trying to swallow me whole.
Michelle pressed her hands against the roots, channeling mana to thicken them. “I’ll reinforce your opening. Just hold it a bit longer!”
Together, we created a fragile bubble amid the chaos. The storm clawed at us from all directions, but with Windstorm cutting a vent through the suffocating wall of sand and Michelle’s roots sealing the gaps, we managed to cling to life inside the howling void. Yet I could already feel the skill’s duration counting down. Even as I poured mana into the blade to sustain it, I was nearing my limit. Once the power ended, the storm would come crashing back.
Gritting my teeth harder, I channeled even more mana to maintain the skill. My vision blurred at the edges, and I didn’t know how long I fought back against the sandstorm. But as soon as Michelle’s roots swelled thick enough to form a cocoon, Windstorm guttered out like a candle in the gale, and I fell to one knee, gasping.
A hot sting ran down my face. I touched my nose and found blood dripping freely. I must have pushed myself beyond my limit, exhausting every last drop of mana.
Your Magic Power has increased by 1.
Boris’s steel shields lowered slightly as he shot me a worried look. “Lad, hang on. Your skill gave Michelle enough time to cage us in with her vines. We should be safe for now. I’ll take it from here.”
“Good.” I nodded, relaxing a bit. This meant that I didn’t have to use Grant Plausibility or Scenario Manipulation to ensure our survival since they were last resort trump cards.
But the storm outside was relentless. Sand pressed in from all sides, piling higher and higher. The vines groaned under the crushing weight, straining to hold their form. I could feel the ground caving in beneath us as the dunes twisted and reshaped under the storm’s fury.
“Uh-oh, the sand’s burying us alive!” Michelle exclaimed, panicked.
The roots trembled violently, and the ground beneath suddenly gave way. The storm’s weight dragged us down as if the desert itself had opened its jaws. Torrents of sand poured in, choking and smothering, pulling us deeper and deeper with merciless force.
“Brace yourselves!” Boris roared, trying to shield us even as the world collapsed into chaos.
We tumbled helplessly, swallowed by the shifting earth. Grains of sand slipped easily through the gaps in the vines, scraping against my skin, filling my mouth with grit. The roar of the storm above dimmed into a muffled, suffocating silence as the desert entombed us whole. It felt endless, a plunge into darkness with no bottom.
Crap. I should use Grant Plausibility to reshape the sand around us!
But just as I summoned the will to act, the pressure abruptly vanished.
Suddenly, we broke free. The crushing weight spat us out into open space, and we hit the ground hard. My body slammed against the cool stone before skidding to a stop. Pain jolted through me, but air finally filled my lungs. I coughed violently, spitting out mouthfuls of grit as I forced myself upright.
“…Where…?” Michelle muttered between coughs, wide-eyed as she pushed herself upright, her hair disheveled and dust clinging to her face.
She took out a lantern from her inventory, and the light revealed a cavern vast enough to swallow a basketball field. Sharp dripstones jutted down like fangs from the ceiling, while thin streams of water trickled faintly across the uneven floor. But what caught my attention—and froze my breath—was the sight in the distance.
Glistening under the pale radiance of phosphorescent moss was a pool of pristine water, clear and untouched. Palm-like trees sprouted from fertile patches of soil around it, their fronds swaying gently in the subterranean breeze as if welcoming us.
You have discovered the Oasis of Memory.
You have earned a new title: Desert Explorer
“The oasis…” I muttered, my heart pounding as I stared at the miraculous sight. “We found it.”
Michelle blinked rapidly, still stunned. “Underground? All this time… it was hidden down here? Not the one we saw aboveground?”
Boris burst out with a booming laugh, slamming his fist against his chest with a grin. “Gahaha! The desert tried to swallow us, but instead it spat us right into the prize itself!”
The air here was different—much cooler and fresher, carrying the scent of water. It was a sanctuary hidden beneath the sands, untouched by the storm above. Against all odds, we had survived and stumbled into the very heart of our objective: the Oasis of Memory.
It became clear that the mirage we had seen earlier was merely an ordinary oasis. Thinking back, stumbling into that sandstorm was probably just our misfortune. After all, if such storms swept across every divine warrior in Fantasia, then any new Gimmel-rank warrior would be wiped out instantly—only the exceptional few would survive.
There would always be fortune hidden within misfortune… I thought. Again, the Luck stat had proven itself invaluable in moments like this.
But our joy was cut short as we realized we weren’t alone in the cavern.
