CHAPTER 139: DEEP CUT 4.....

The serpent uncoiled, his scales blazing with crimson and gold, his fiery vortex was igniting the chamber, its flames was a challenge that matched the serpents’ hisses, their 82% sync ratio was a heartbeat driving their strategy, their bond a flame against the beasts’ unrelenting fury.

The battle erupted in a whirlwind of fire and shadow, the chamber trembled as Kelvin wove a fire lance, its flames was sharpened by ice runes, targeting the serpents’ scales, aiming for weak points that Mealin’s tome had detailed.

The joints where their psychic energy pulsed was vulnerable to piercing strikes, their edges was glowing faintly with venomous ichor.

Xerion struck with his tail, its honor rune kept glowing as it smashed against a serpent’s flank, sending sparks flying with his fiery vortex engulfing the pack and it kept forcing them to scatter.

Their psychic pulses disturbed Kelvin’s mind with visions of his parents’ burning forms, their courage was a beacon that pushed him through the pain.

The serpents were relentless, their coils kept lashing with deadly precision, their venom was a psychic burn that forced Kelvin to roll, his scars pain came again as he dodged, weaving water traps to bind their tails.

The runes went into a place with a crackle, slowing their attacks, steam was rising as the gauntlet’s glow countered their venom.

The chamber’s walls was shaking with every clash, riftborn bones crunched underfoot, cracks were spider webbing across the stone, the instability was a mirror of the collapse that haunted Kelvin’s past, threatening to bury them as it had his parents.

The serpents’ psychic pulses intensified, their violet eyes kept glowing brighter, their hisses was laced with energy that stung Kelvin’s mind, a chilling echo of the Sovereign’s assaults in the Rift, but he pushed through.

His parents’ courage was a flame that burned brighter than his fear, their lessons on rune-etching was a guide through the chaos.

He snapped a water trap, its runes binded a serpent’s coils, its struggles was futile as Xerion’s fiery vortex engulfed it, forcing it to collapse, its scales was dimming, its psychic energy faded into the chamber’s silence.

Kelvin landed a precise fire lance that pierced another serpent’s weak point, its venomous hiss faded as it fell, molten ichor seeped from its wounds, its violet glow was mirroring the Veil scale in his pack, confirming their unnatural origins, a creation born of the same Veil hubris that birthed the wyrm.

The pack retreated, their numbers were thinned, leaving Kelvin shaken but resolute, Xerion’s hiss was fierce with pride, their victory was a testament to their growth since the Red Wastes bunker, their bond was a flame that burned through the chamber’s oppressive darkness.

Kelvin salvaged a psychic fang from a fallen serpent, its violet glow was pulsing faintly in his hand, a potent enhancer for his gauntlet, its energy was unstable but powerful, a double-edged asset for the battles ahead, the wyrm’s trail kept growing faint, its hole was deeper still and the mines’ ghosts urged him onward with every echo of his parents’ sacrifice.

The serpents’ tracks led to a hidden passage, its entrance was marked by Vark’s Crew’s sigils, their dune runes etched into the stone, their jagged patterns was a stark warning of their presence, pointing to a scavenger hideout in the Red Wastes, their looting was tied to the wyrm’s power, their greed was a threat that deepened the mission’s stakes.

Kelvin emerged from the mines into the crimson sands of the Red Wastes, the heat of the setting sun pressed against his scars, the horizon was a blur of dunes and molten light, the hideout was a ramshackle bunker carved into a towering dune.

Its walls were patched with looted metal plates, their surfaces were etched with crude dune runes, the scent of oil and ash was heavy in the air, a testament to Vark’s Crew’s scavenging.

The bunker’s interior was a chaotic archive of Veil artifacts, psychic crystals were stacked in crates, their violet glow was pulsing faintly; riftborn scales scattered across tables, their surfaces were shimmering with unstable energy; broken tamer gear, its runes faded but heavy with Veil power, their presence was a haunting echo of the mines’ chamber.

Maps of Valebreach’s mines were pinned to the walls, their parchment was marked with Veil altar locations, their ink detailed Vark’s plan to harness the wyrm’s essence for profit, their scheme was a shadow that threatened the town’s survival, their greed was a mirror of the Veil tamers’ hubris that had birthed the wyrm, a legacy that echoed Kelvin’s parents’ tragic end.

A low growl interrupted Kelvin’s investigation, Vark’s second-in-command, Kren, emerged from the bunker’s shadows and his grizzled frame clad was in leather armor that was etched with dune runes.

Their sandy glow kept pulsing faintly with his eyes glinting with malice, a scar that crossed his jaw, his presence was a cruel echo of Vark’s scar-twisted sneer in the lair’s ambush.

A Level 6 Rare Sandfang Wolf prowled at his side, its fur bristled with dune runes, its fangs were bared, its eyes were glowing with sandy energy, its snarl was a chilling reminder of the Red Wastes ambush years ago, when Kelvin had faced Vark’s Crew as a novice, his fear nearly overwhelmed his resolve.

Kren’s voice was a grave sneer with his spear raised, its dune-etched tip was flaring, "You are a fool to chase the wyrm, hero. Its power is ours, and so is your gear. Hand it over, or we will feed you to the sands!"

Kelvin’s scars burned up immediately, his gauntlet flared with fire runes, his voice was steady as he countered, "You will burn before you touch Valebreach, Kren.

This ends here." Xerion’s hiss was fierce, his scales blazed with crimson and gold, their bond was a flame that burned through the bunker’s shadows, their resolve was unyielding despite the threat, their growth since the Red Wastes was a testament to their strength.

The confrontation erupted in a blaze of fire and sand, the bunker trembled as Kren thrust his dune-etched spear, its sandy glow flared, aiming for Kelvin’s chest, but he dodged, his gauntlet kept weaving an ice rune to cool the attack, frost crackled as the spear’s energy became dimmed, Kren’s snarl twisted with frustration, his scar was having a dark, bluish appearance in the bunker’s dim light.

Xerion’s tail smashed through a crate, its contents like psychic crystals, dune rune shards spilled across the floor, his fiery vortex engulfed the wolf, forcing it to retreat, its fur singed and its dune runes flickered weakly, its howl pierced the air.

Kelvin wove a fire lance, its flames was tempered by ice while it pierced Kren’s armor, drawing a curse as he staggered back, his wolf lunged with dune-enhanced speed.

Its fangs grazed Kelvin’s tunic, his scars kept burning as he rolled, snapping a water trap to bind its legs, its struggles was futile as Xerion’s flames seared its flank and its howl faded into the bunker’s silence.

The battle was intense, the bunker’s walls was shaking when psychic crystals shattered and their violet glow scattered the across the floor, Kren’s spear kept me weaving sandy arcs, but Kelvin’s ice runes countered each strike, his fire lance forced Kren to his knees though his eyes was blazing with hatred as he spat, "Vark will gut you for this, hero.

The wyrm’s power belongs to us!" Kelvin’s voice was steady, his gauntlet flared as he said. "Not while I am here. Valebreach is not yours to plunder."

Xerion’s hiss was fierce, his scales was blazing, their bond was a flame that overwhelmed Kren and his wolf, their defeat was a testament to Kelvin’s growth, their retreat was a warning of Vark’s larger scheme, the wyrm’s power was a prize for scavengers, setting up a final confrontation that was deeper in the mines.

Kelvin investigated the bunker, uncovering maps detailing Veil altar locations that was deep in the mines, their markings was revealing Vark’s plan was to control the wyrm’s essence.

Their greed made them to keep risking further instability, their tracks was a shadow that deepened the mission’s stakes, their scheme was a mirror of the Veil tamers’ hubris that had birthed the wyrm.

He salvaged a riftborn scale, though its shimmering surface was dangerous but was a useful addition to his pack, its energy was unstable but potent, and a potential key to countering the wyrm’s power.

Its weight was a reminder of the Veil’s cost, his parents’ deaths was tied to similar essence and their memory was a flame that burned brighter than his fear in the mist of his challenges.

The bunker’s artifacts such as the psychic crystals, broken tamer gear, dune rune fragments evoked Kelvin’s trauma from the Rift.

The Sovereign’s assaults was a shadow in his mind and his parents’ collapse was a void he vowed to fill by stopping Vark and the wyrm, their legacy was a call to protect Valebreach from the scavengers’ greed.