Auren found himself in an absurdly awkward situation. First of all, who would've guessed that this mountain-sized Cursed Creature was a coward?
After just one pounce, it was running away?
It wasn't his fault he hadn't predicted that! How could he have? He'd only been riding it to the top, chipping away at its strength with steady damage.
His plan had been simple—cling close enough to keep [Wane] passively active. Over time, the Behemoth would weaken, its speed dwindling, its vision dulling. Or in this case, whatever passed for its vision.
Auren still believed it would work. But right now, the damned thing was fleeing.
He gripped the crevice with force, squeezing his eyes shut as sand battered him from all sides. The creature surged forward with terrifying speed, its massive spikes churning like drills, propelling it through the dunes.
Auren held on, teeth gritted, enduring the relentless storm.
