This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange - Chapter 492

Chapter 492: Chapter 492: Sinking into the Unknown
The group stood in silence as they watched Malzahir disappear into the vast expanse of the desert, his figure growing smaller and smaller until it was swallowed up by the sand flying about, obscuring their vision.

The tension in the air was thick, each member of the group grappling with the weight of his cryptic warning. Kain’s mind raced, the Threads of Destiny were telling him that he and Malzahir had a potential connection beyond even the acquaintance of his grandmother, and his instincts were screaming that he should ask for more information, and maybe even try to recruit Malzahir to their group. But they had come too far to be delayed by Kain’s somewhat selfish desire to identify what made the Threads of Destiny suggest strongly that there was a huge opportunity for Kain in Malzahir.

“We need to keep moving,” Idrias said, his voice breaking the silence. His tone was firm, but Kain could see the unease in his eyes. “The relic is our priority. Whatever danger Malzahir was talking about, we may have to deal with it later.”

The group nodded, their expressions grim but determined. They had no choice but to press forward. The relic was their mission, and failure was not an option. With a collective sigh, they adjusted their gear and continued their journey, the oppressive heat of the desert bearing down on them once more.

The landscape stretched endlessly before them, the golden sands shifting under their feet as they trudged onward. The sun blazed overhead, its relentless rays sapping their energy with every step. Kain could feel the fatigue setting in, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. The relic was close—he could feel it.

As they crested a particularly large dune, Kain’s sharp eyes caught sight of something in the distance. A plume of dust rose into the air, moving rapidly across the desert floor. He squinted, trying to make out the source of the disturbance. It wasn’t long before the figures came into view—a platoon of nearly fifty people, all clad in uniformed gear. They moved with purpose, their strides quick and deliberate, as if they were in pursuit of something—or someone.

Kain’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced at Idrias, who had also noticed the approaching group. Everyone immediately went on alert, their hands hovering near their weapons as they assessed the situation.

“Stay calm,” Idrias said, his voice low but commanding. “We don’t know who they are or what they want. Keep moving, but be ready for anything.”

The group nodded, their movements cautious as they continued forward. The platoon was closing in fast, their uniforms a stark contrast against the golden sands. Kain could see the insignias on their armor now—a symbol he vaguely recognized as belonging to the Obari tribe that they’d visited not long ago.

As the two groups drew closer, Kain could feel the tension mounting. The leader of the platoon, a tall man with a commanding presence and a relatively fresh scar beginning to form across his left cheek, glanced in their direction. His eyes narrowed as he sized up Kain’s group, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned his attention back to the path ahead. It was clear that they were in a hurry, their focus unwavering as they rushed past Kain’s group without so much as a word.

Kain let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The encounter had been brief, but it left him with a lingering sense of unease.

He couldn’t help feeling that the group was in pursuit of Malzahir.

He glanced at Serena, who met his gaze with a look of equal concern, likely coming to the same guess.

As the platoon disappeared into the distance, the group continued their journey, their pace quickening as they pressed onward. The encounter had shaken them, but it had also served as a reminder of the stakes. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

Hours passed, the sun dipping lower in the sky as they finally reached their destination. Zareth, who had been leading the way, came to a sudden stop, his eyes scanning the horizon. “This is it,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of relief and anticipation. “The relic should be here.”

Kain looked around, his brow furrowing in confusion. The area looked no different from the rest of the desert—just endless stretches of sand and rock. But as he focused his senses, he could feel it—a faint, almost imperceptible hum of energy emanating from the ground beneath his feet.

“Are you sure?” a female member of the Pathfinders asked, her voice skeptical. “There’s nothing here.”

Zareth nodded, his expression confident. “The relic is underground. We’ll need to find the entrance.”

The group spread out, their movements careful as they searched for any sign of an entrance. Kain’s eyes scanned the ground, his senses attuned to the subtle shifts in energy. And then, just as he was about to give up, he saw it—a faint difference in the sand at a single location almost invisible to the naked eye.

He hurried over in excitement, wanting to confirm if he’d found the entrance, and almost immediately something felt wrong. Too soft. The ground beneath him wasn’t firm—it shifted unnaturally, sucking downward as though it were alive. His stomach lurched as he realized, too late, that he was sinking.

A jolt of panic shot through him as his feet disappeared beneath the surface in an instant. He tried to lift a leg, but the movement only made it worse—his body sinking deeper, the sand coiling around his calves like an unseen predator dragging him under. He fought against it, but it was like struggling against thick mud, every frantic motion making the pull stronger.

“Quicksand!” Kain shouted, his voice sharp with alarm.

The others whipped their heads around just in time to see him drop another few inches. His thighs were submerged now, the pressure around his legs increasing. He reached out, fingers grasping at empty air, but there was nothing solid to hold onto. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. The more he moved, the faster he sank. He was caught in a death trap.

Strangely, Kain found the current situation more terrifying than the large-scale battles he’d participated in. There was no enemy to fight, no blade to parry, no power to resist. Just an overwhelming, suffocating force dragging him down with terrifying inevitability. He clawed at the surface, trying to spread his weight, but there was no traction.

“Kain!” Serena’s voice rang out, sharp and urgent. She was already moving, her usual composure cracking at the sight of him vanishing inch by inch. “Stop struggling! You’re making it worse!”

The others were closing in, forming a circle around him, but no one dared get too close. One wrong step and they’d be caught too. Idrias grabbed a long rope from his pack, his hands steady despite the tension in his jaw.

“Hold on,” Idrias called, tossing one end of the rope toward Kain. “Don’t move too much. Wrap it around your chest!”

Kain reached for it, fingers slick with sweat, barely managing to loop it around himself. His arms were trembling from the strain, the fear, the sinking weight threatening to steal what little energy he had left. He could hear the distant rush of blood in his ears, the sand creeping higher, his body becoming heavier, harder to move. His chest was almost fully submerged now.

Once the rope was anchored around his body, they used all of their combined strength, and even had help from their contracts to try and pull him out—but it was useless.

One teammate even used his contract which was capable of controlling sand to try and get Kain out, but strangely it seemed as though the immediate area was outside of its control.

A cold realization struck him—this wasn’t just ordinary quicksand. There was something else at play, something unnatural.

Soon he could feel a growing energy beneath him, the faint hum of something ancient buried deep below.

Kain had pretty much given up all hope of getting rescued at this point, all he could hope for was that what awaited him wouldn’t be too dangerous.