Through the swirling sandstorm and dim light, Henwell spots a massive fleet of ships racing across the Sand Sea, driven by the raging storm.

  They are ft-bottomed vessels, about a hundred meters long, each with three enormous sails.

  The ships resemble river barges with ft hulls, but their bodies flicker with fshes of lightning, glowing faintly.

  Golden runes shimmer across the sails, revealing these sandships don’t rely solely on wind power, they’re extraordinary vessels.

  On the wide decks and even the masts, figures cloaked in dark gold stand guard.

  There are over thirty sandships in total.

  Two in the center tower above the rest, each over two hundred meters long, truly marvels of creation.

  Ten other rge ships, slightly smaller but still over a hundred meters, form a protective barrier around the two giants.

  The remaining sandships vary in size, ranging from thirty to eighty meters.

  These smaller vessels cluster around the fleet’s perimeter, acting like scouts.

  The entire fleet’s course isn’t aimed directly at the caravan.

  The nearest small sandship is still more than a hundred meters away from Henwell’s group.

  At first, Henwell thinks this so-called Lightchaser Fleet poses no immediate threat.

  Then, suddenly, a sandship nearly seventy meters long shifts course and heads toward the caravan.

  Henwell prepares for battle, but the ship doesn’t seem intent on attacking.

  When it’s about fifty meters from the caravan, the entire hull glows with golden light.

  That light spills onto the desert surface, tinting the sand with a golden hue.

  Then, small mounds begin to rise from the sand, like tiny graves slowly emerging.

  Suddenly, the sand mounds burst open, revealing towering figures.

  These gaunt, skeletal beings stand nearly four meters tall, wrapped in golden bandages, wielding massive double-headed scythe-like weapons.

  They look like mummies!

  Before Henwell can ponder what these creatures are, the otherworldly mummies suddenly surge forward, charging the caravan.

  Amid cries and screams, Henwell frowns.

  These mummies move fast, almost as fast as the knights charging into battle!

  Henwell knows full well this caravan is finished, only a handful might survive.

  He sees there are knight-ranked guards among the caravan who can easily sy the mummies.

  These mummies have fragile bodies wrapped in golden runes on their bandages, offering little defense.

  Ordinary people can easily pierce through them, and as soon as their golden wrappings are damaged, their attack speed and strength drop noticeably.

  With the knights’ combat power, taking down these mummies is straightforward.

  But these mummies resemble Fury Spirits—high offense but fragile, and there are just too many of them.

  Nearly a thousand mummies charge forward, and this caravan isn’t made up of the elite knights Henwell once fought alongside.

  There are fewer than ten knight-ranked guards here, and half of them fall within moments of battle.

  So, the only fate awaiting this caravan is destruction.

  Soon, a pair of mummies rush toward Henwell.

  He raises his sword and charges at them, killing both after a minute of fighting.

  During the fight, Henwell gathers data on these mummies, confirming most of his earlier observations.

  But two things stand out, these desert mummies are tougher than Fury Spirits.

  First, their attack frequency and agility are impressive.

  Second, their strange weapons are difficult to handle.

  Combined, these traits make them a serious threat.

  Henwell has faced many weapons in battle, but these bizarre scythe-like arms still unsettle him.

  After dispatching the two desert mummies, four more break off from the pack hunting the caravan and surround Henwell.

  He dares not continue sying them recklessly.

  Although the sandship that summoned these monsters sails off into the distance, Henwell doesn’t want to draw too much attention.

  He worries about alerting the rest of the Lightchaser Fleet.

  A few minutes ter, the Lightchaser Fleet fades into the distance, their silhouettes disappearing from view.

  The storm begins to noticeably weaken.

  Henwell keenly observes that as the fleet moves away, the desert mummies don’t weaken—instead, they grow even stronger.

  By now, eight desert mummies surround Henwell, swinging their double-headed scythes in a fierce assault.

  Though Henwell believes the Lightchaser Fleet won’t return, he fights cautiously.

  Minutes pass, and the dark sky brightens somewhat.

  The mummies’ strength increases yet again.

  Frustrated by their strange weapons, Henwell unleashes a whirlwind ssh, cutting down all the mummies around him.

  He then whistles sharply toward the distance.

  Responding to the call, Night Charger bursts forth like a bolt of bck lightning, rushing to Henwell’s side.

  Having worked together for years, Night Charger’s intelligence has improved greatly and he understands many of Henwell’s commands.

  As Night Charger passes by, he doesn’t slow down but leans his war spear closer to Henwell.

  When they’re about six or seven meters apart, Henwell’s Blood Will fres.

  A blood-red mist shoots out like a chain, precisely wrapping around the war spear.

  Henwell pulls the spear into his hands.

  Night Charger smashes through several mummies before dashing off again, chased by a few of the creatures.

  Though the mummies are fast, they’re no match for Night Charger’s speed.

  With the war spear in hand, Henwell feels much more confident dealing with these unusual weapons.

  He swings the spear, instantly shattering a dozen mummies surrounding him.

  This sudden attack is like stirring a hornet’s nest, more mummies drop their previous targets and swarm toward Henwell.

  Papaste lies on the sand, gasping for breath, watching the mummies retreat.

  He still can’t quite believe he survived.

  When the Lightchaser Fleet appeared, Papaste was shocked, curious about the fleet’s scale and method of travel.

  But when the mummies emerged, fear took hold.

  Though his caravan reacted quickly, forming defensive ranks, and he had two knight guards protecting him, they could only hold out at first.

  As time passed, the mummies’ numbers and strength grew, causing continuous casualties.

  The colpse came in an instant, one guard fell in battle, the other was gravely wounded.

  When Papaste was knocked back, his longsword shattered by a mummy’s weapon, awaiting death, the mummies suddenly changed direction and charged off to the left.