As we stepped out of the Shanghai station, the sheer scale of the Magic City hit us like a tidal wave. Compared to the rustic, mountain-hugged streets of Bo City, Shanghai was a glittering metropolis of reinforced skyscrapers and bustling magical plazas.
"Since we're here, let's not rush straight into the jaws of a demon," Li Shen said, his stern face softening as he looked down at me. At ten years old, I barely reached his waist, and the protective circle my brothers formed around me was ironclad. "Yuzi hasn't seen the Pearl Tower or the Bund in a long time. We take today to rest and eat well. Tomorrow, the real work begins."
The next few hours were a rare blur of normalcy. We wandered through the Nanjing Road pedestrian mall, the twins dragging me into high-end magic equipment shops. They marveled at the Stardust Magic Tools and expensive leather armor, while Li Han, usually so focused on combat, was busy stuffing his face with pan-fried pork buns, insisting I try every local snack he found. We sat by the Huangpu River as the sun dipped low, the neon lights reflecting off the water. For a moment, we weren't a squad of High-Level mages and a young boy; we were just brothers.
But as the night deepened, the atmosphere shifted. We retreated to a quiet hotel to finalize our gear. My brothers began checking their equipment—their mana-conducting robes and high-grade magical artifacts hummed with a power that most people would find suffocating.
"So, Yuzi," Li Shen asked, laying out a map of the country on the table. "You said you had a place in mind. Shanghai is a hub, but the surrounding areas are heavily patrolled by the military. Where are we actually going?"
I reached up and pointed my finger far to the north, past the civilized borders, toward the Northern Scorching Plains. Specifically, I landed my finger on a winding line that cut through the golden sands.
"The Washing Sand River," I said.
My brothers leaned in, their brows furrowing. As High-Level mages, they knew the geography of danger better than anyone. "Washing sand river located at outside Burning Plains? That's sand Undead territory," Li Zhu noted, his voice laced with caution as he looked at me, clearly worried about taking a child into such a desolate region.
"Exactly," I explained, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "The Washing Sand River is unique. The 'Sand Undead' there are trapped in a constant cycle of being buried and uncovered by the shifting tides of the river. They are numerous, but because they are often physically restricted by the river, they can't leave river territory, they are much slower. For our purpose of gathering massive amounts of soul essence, it's a gold mine." I explained and others also agreed so we set out immediately.
_________
The journey to the northern border took another day of travel. By the time we reached the edge of the Scorching Plains, the air had turned dry and biting. The horizon was a hazy shimmer of heat and dust.
We trekked until the sound of rushing water and grinding stones reached our ears. The Washing Sand River wasn't a blue paradise; it was a muddy, violent torrent heavily saturated with magical silt. Along the banks, mounds of grey sand would occasionally heave and pulse.
"Look there," I whispered, pointing to a mound that was beginning to take a humanoid shape. A Sand Skeleton began to claw its way out, its bones reinforced by the gritty minerals of the river. It was slow and sluggish.
Li Wei grinned, his hands already sparking with the fierce, violet intensity of High-Level Lightning magic. "Slow-moving targets? Yuzi, you really picked a masterpiece of a hunting ground. This is going to be a slaughter."
"Stay alert," Li Shen commanded as he covered the team with shadow energy. His presence expanded, the aura of a High-Level mage settling over the riverbank like a heavy weight. "Yuzi, stay exactly in the center. Do not move from between us."
As the first Sand Undead fully emerged, I gripped the pendant hidden beneath my shirt. I could feel the 10x Reward System humming in my mind, vibrating in sync with the hidden power within me, waiting for the kill to trigger a cascade of souls.
...
The Sun hung like a jaundiced eye over the Washing Sand River, its light reflecting off the vast, shifting dunes that replaced water with treacherous, flowing silt. There was no sound of splashing here—only the dry, rhythmic hiss of sand grinding against sand.
In the center of a shallow basin, the four Li brothers stood in a tight diamond formation. They were ghosts in the day, their presence masked by Li Shen's shadow energy, which clung to them like a damp veil.
"They're rising," Li Han whispered, his hand pressed firmly against the dunes.
Below them, the sand began to churn. Ribcages made of bleached, sand-blasted bone erupted from the ground, followed by skulls filled with glowing, amber-colored grit. These were the Sand Servants—mindless, tireless, and plentiful. Behind them, larger silhouettes emerged: Sand Warriors, their frames reinforced with dense, enchanted silt that acted like organic armor.
"Remember," Li Shen's voice was a low, chilling command that seemed to come from the shadows themselves. "No Advanced spells. No Ice Age, no Sky-Flame Funeral. We are here to harvest, not to duel a Commander. Keep your mana signatures below the threshold."
Li Han acted first. He didn't summon a mountain; he simply whispered to the earth. "Earth Element: Quicksand Sink." Instead of a violent upheaval, the ground beneath a dozen Sand Servants simply vanished. They didn't fall into a pit; they were swallowed by a localized, high-pressure vortex of sand. The heavy, "High-density Rock" essence in Han's magic turned the riverbed into a vice, pinning the undead up to their necks.
"Targeting the cores," Li Jun murmured. His hands moved with the fluidity of a conductor. He bypassed the flashy gusts of the Wind element, opting for surgical precision.
"Wind Blade: Vacuum Drill." Small, silent spiraling currents descended from his fingertips. They didn't blow the skeletons apart—that would be too loud, too messy. Instead, the tiny drills pierced directly through the nasal cavities of the trapped Sand Warriors, popping the flickering Soul Fires hidden within their skulls. Pop. Pop. Pop. The amber glow vanished, and the skeletons collapsed into piles of inanimate dust.
To his left, Li Wei was playing with fire, but with the restraint of a master jeweler. He didn't unleash a wave of heat. Instead, he flicked his fingers, sending out "Crimson Motes"—tiny, concentrated beads of Spirit-grade fire.
The motes didn't explode. They burrowed into the chest cavities of the Sand Servants, where the river's silt was most concentrated. In a flash of intense, localized heat, the sand inside the demons turned to glass. The undead froze mid-motion, their internal structures vitrified. As they tried to struggle against Han's quicksand, their own brittle, glass-filled bodies shattered with the faint tinkling of a broken chandelier.
To be continued.....
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