"Any luck with intel on the Spiked Dune Lords?" Jax pressed, his gaze fixing on Silas. "How is Redrock Bastion reacting?"
Silas nodded grimly. "That’s exactly what I needed to tell you. The news has already spread through the entirety of Redrock Bastion. They aren't just watching; they’re actively helping The Sprawl construct fortifications. We’re talking about a city-wide deployment of Defense Towers. They’re locking the place down."
The tension in the room thickened instantly. If a major power like Redrock Bastion was getting involved in the defenses of a chaotic hub like The Sprawl, the threat was severe.
"Do we have specifics on the creature?" Jax asked.
"We do," Silas replied. "And it’s bad. This isn't a static species; it evolves rapidly. Redrock Bastion’s high command started studying them a few years ago. Back then, the Spiked Dune Lord was classified as a mere Tier 1 threat. But in less than two years, the specimens they’re tracking have evolved into Tier 4 monsters."
"What?"
The group froze, the blood draining from their faces.
"A Tier 4 insectoid?" Gareth stammered. "You’ve got to be kidding. We barely survived a single Tier 3! How the hell are we supposed to fight a Tier 4?"
"Exactly," another survivor chimed in, voice trembling. "Tier 4s are the stuff of legends. Can we even scratch something like that?"
"Damn it," someone muttered. "I knew that pressure we felt wasn't normal. Tier 4... it all makes sense now. We have every right to be terrified."
Jax’s heart sank. The battle against the Tier 3 spider recently had been a brush with death, leaving them battered and exhausted. The prospect of facing a Tier 4 entity made his head throb with a dull ache.
He took a breath, forcing himself to stay analytical. "Silas, what else? I need to know everything about these Spiked Dune Lords."
"There is one more thing," Silas said, pulling out a crumpled report. "According to the experts, the Spiked Dune Lords prey on Rodent-Maw Creepers. It’s their primary food source. That explains why the Creepers have been so scarce lately—they’re being hunted. Other Outposts have reported seeing small packs of Creepers, maybe a few dozen fleeing together. But never like us. We’re the only ones getting hit by hundreds at a time."
Jax narrowed his eyes. It clicked. The excessive number of Rodent-Maw Creepers attacking his base wasn't a natural migration; it was likely drawn by the System's mission mechanics or the energy signature of his base. Without the mission, he probably wouldn't have seen nearly as many.
Silas continued, connecting the dots. "The Hive Spires we saw? They're incubators. The Spiked Dune Lords lay their eggs inside. Once the larvae hatch, they devour the Rodent-Maw Creepers to fuel their growth. That’s why the Creepers congregate around the Spires—they're livestock."
"And the adults?" Jax asked.
"The larvae gorge themselves until they reach maturity," Silas explained gravely. "Once they molt into adulthood, they ascend the hierarchy. The experts speculate that a fully mature Spiked Dune Lord could surpass Tier 5."
The room fell into a heavy silence.
If a Tier 5 insectoid appeared, The Sprawl wouldn't stand a chance. Even with hundreds of Defense Towers, the combined firepower might not be enough to pierce the mucous armor of a beast that strong. It would be a slaughter.
Jax walked to the edge of the platform, looking out at the rain-slicked walls of their camp. He let out a helpless laugh.
"Tier 4... Tier 5..." He shook his head. "If one of those hits us, these walls might as well be made of paper."
The weight of survival pressed down on him. The System tasks only refreshed once a day. Resources were tight. They had barely scraped by against a Tier 3. A Tier 4 Spiked Dune Lord was a nightmare he wasn't ready for.
Later, back in his quarters, Jax sat down to read the letter Barnaby had received, with the gentle giant watching eagerly from the side.
Barnaby couldn't read, but he knew the words came from his sister, Elena.
Jax scanned the handwriting and snorted with laughter when he reached the signature.
"Ha! She really doesn't change, does she?" Jax grinned, waving the paper. "Calling me 'Big Dummy'? Is that the best nickname she can come up with? Does a face this handsome look like a dummy to you?"
He shook his head in mock disappointment, then read the contents aloud for Barnaby.
The letter was classic Elena: Don't worry about me. Don't spend your money foolishly. Take care of Barnaby. If my brother loses even a single hair, I will end you.
However, the letter also touched upon her situation at The Elysium Lounge. Reading between the lines, Jax’s expression hardened. He made a silent vow: he was going to Redrock Bastion to redeem her. Now.
Elena’s descent into the lounge was his burden to bear. Back when they were struggling to survive, Jax had sustained a severe injury. He was the main earner in the city defense team, and without him, they were destitute. To save his life and pay for the medical treatment, Elena had sold herself to the Elysium Lounge.
He owed her his life. Literally.
With the base upgrades complete, Jax felt comfortable leaving for a short duration. As long as he—the primary aggro magnet for the System's quests—wasn't physically present at the fortress, the insectoid attacks should revert to standard wilderness encounters: mostly Sandworms and scattered Rodent-Maw Creepers.
Jax was confident Silas and the team could handle that, even without the towers firing at full capacity.
That night, Jax gave Barnaby a stern briefing on safety. Fearing the big guy might forget, Jax also sought out Annie.
Aside from Barnaby, Annie was the person he trusted most. She was young, barely seventeen, but possessed a maturity and kindness far beyond her years. She didn't make rash decisions.
"Annie, listen carefully," Jax said, handing her a pouch containing fifty Energy Shards. He explained exactly how to reload the Sentry Towers and the cannon if the energy depleted. He didn't know how long the trip to Redrock Bastion would take, and he wouldn't leave them defenseless.
The departure was emotional. Barnaby, true to his nature, was weeping like a child, tears streaming down his face.
Seeing the nearly two-meter-tall warrior sobbing broke Jax’s heart a little.
"Alright, big guy, that's enough," Jax said softly. "I'm going. Protect our camp."
Gareth stepped forward, saluting. "Boss Jax, don't worry. We’ll watch the place. We won't let any monster destroy our home."
Home.
The word sparked a light in Gareth's eyes that Jax hadn't seen before. It reassured him.
"Good. Guard our home. I'm off."
Jax turned and walked toward the valley entrance without looking back, disappearing into the drizzle.
He wore the raincoat Silas had purchased, protecting him from the persistent rain. The road had turned into a muddy quagmire over the last few days, making the trek miserable. First thing I’m buying when I get rich, Jax thought, trudging through the sludge, is an off-road vehicle.
When he finally reached the entrance to Outpost 15, he stopped by the bulletin board. The rain had soaked the papers, blurring the ink, but he could clearly see that his wanted poster had been removed.
"Whew." He exhaled a long breath. "Finally shed that criminal status. One less thing to worry about."
He pulled his hood up and walked into the district.
However, as he moved through the streets of Outpost 15, he noticed people staring. The looks weren't hostile, but filled with shock and awe. Whispers trailed in his wake.
"See him? That’s Jax. I heard he slaughtered thousands of Sandworms and Rodent-Maw Creepers personally! He must be walking around with a fortune in Cores."
"Damn, I’m jealous. Once he cashes out, he’ll probably buy a mansion in the heart of The Sprawl."
"Tsk, mansion? You haven't heard the half of it. They say he took down ten thousand Sandworms single-handedly! And thousands of Creepers! The entire slum population in The Sprawl is surviving on the meat he provided!"
"Yeah, a real monster. Bare hands, I heard. Ripped apart Tier 3 insectoids like they were paper. The guy is a beast!"
Jax kept his head down, his mouth twitching. The rumor mill was spinning out of control. From using towers to defend a base, the story had mutated into him punching ten thousand bugs to death with his bare hands.
Great, he thought dryly. Just don't drag me into your tall tales when the real monsters show up.