Getting spoiled in a woman dominating world Chapter 474: The Dead Clock Spire [1]

Huh?

Every bit as abruptly as it had erupted, the storm vanished.

Alone amid the boundless desert, Charlotte stood with her chest rising and falling heavily, faint ether shimmering feebly around her clenched fists.

Dunes extended endlessly in all directions beneath the pitiless sun, and the storm had already faded away.

Worst of all... no trace of Brandon anywhere.

Her eyes trembled, while icy dread coiled into her heart, gripping it fiercely.

"N-No... Kael?"

Her voice broke.

"KAELLL!"

The desperate cry ripped from her throat, reverberating over the dunes before the infinite void devoured it.

Panic seized her as she whirled around, scanning every direction.

Nothing.

Right then, a ragged, wheezing chuckle drifted from behind her.

A short distance away, Lyssandra lay sprawled on her back in the sand.

She laughed, "Yes... Suffer... just like when you stole Maevrith from me..."

Charlotte’s face crumpled.

Blinding fury surged through her bloodstream.

In a flash, she surged ahead, covering the gap in an instant.

Her hand plunged down, fingers clamping onto Lyssandra’s head.

"You-"

The words never came.

Charlotte smashed Lyssandra’s skull with one brutal squeeze.

CRUNCH.

A horrific gush of blood and brain splattered across the sand.

Lyssandra’s form jerked once... twice... then lay motionless.

Over the lifeless body, Charlotte loomed, panting roughly as blood trickled from her fingers.

She drew in a deep, trembling breath, compelling calm upon herself.

Trembling hands balled up. ’Focus. Find him. He must be nearby.’

She rocketed into the air, ascending swiftly.

High overhead, her eyes swept the infinite desert stretching everywhere.

Dunes. Rocks. Endless dunes.

No hint of Brandon.

Faster she flew, expanding her search circles ever outward.

Hours dragged on.

Relentlessly, Charlotte hunted, swooping low over dunes, orbiting stone clusters, even clawing into sand at hints of motion.

Nothing.

Only barren, infinite sand.

At last, she descended near the storm’s origin point.

*thud* Her knees slammed into the sand, breath coming in heavy gasps.

Fists tightened. "Kael... where are you?"

Frustration and terror welled as tears scorched her eyes, her desperate gaze darting about.

Precisely then, the ring on her finger ignited with a gentle, comforting glow.

Beside her, a portal of shimmering energy tore open in the air.

Elize emerged, dressed casually, confusion etching her features as she surveyed the desert.

Surprise widened her eyes at Charlotte’s wrecked expression.

"Charlotte? What- where are we? Where’s Brandon? It’s been hours... so I came to check on you."

Charlotte raised her gaze, voice fracturing. "He’s gone."

Horror drained Elize’s color. "What do you mean ’gone’?"

Slowly, Charlotte rose, sand cascading from her attire.

"Lyssandra... she triggered the artifact gem of this tower. It hurled us into the Dead Clock Spire. A time storm erupted. I fought to reach him but..."

Trembling, her voice quavered. "I can’t find him, Big Sis. I’ve searched for hours. Nothing."

Panic sharpened Elize’s features, worry flooding her eyes.

She advanced, hands gripping Charlotte’s shoulders. "Breathe. We’ll find him."

Charlotte gulped and nodded weakly.

Elize scanned the endless sands, then faced Charlotte. "Tell me everything that happened."

---

*cough*

Sand spilled from his mouth and nose as Brandon rolled onto his back, wracked by violent coughs.

Sun-scorched sand seared his body, while myriad shallow cuts marred his arms, chest, face, and legs.

The time storm had shredded him, its grains slicing like minuscule blades amid temporal chaos warping his agony.

"Ughhhh..."

A deep, primal groan rumbled from him as he struggled upright.

The blazing sun hammered his bare skin, intensifying every wound’s bite.

Blood, sweat, and sand formed a gritty, burning sludge that stuck to him.

"Shit... it hurts."

He paused there, heaving breaths, attempting to get his bearings.

Endless desert sprawled in all directions.

Jaw set, Brandon invoked Dhayun’s skill.

A gentle, known warmth ignited in his chest.

Like flowing liquid, it coursed through him, mending severe cuts, sealing gashes, easing ravaged skin.

Agony eased from fiery torment to a bearable pulse.

Shuddering relief escaped as healing took effect.

Still perched on the blistering sand, he craned his neck skyward.

"This isn’t a normal desert," he murmured.

He hauled himself up, shaking sand from his shredded garments as best he could.

His black t-shirt hung in tatters, his pants torn across multiple spots.

Stains of blood lingered on the material, though the injuries beneath had largely mended due to Dhayun’s expertise.

Brandon pivoted slowly in a circle, eyes sweeping the horizon.

Nothing.

Unease coiled tightly in his gut.

"Charlotte!"

The call reverberated oddly before dying out.

He called out once more, voice raised higher.

"CHARLOTTE!"

Still nothing.

Brandon blew out a sharp breath, raking a hand through his hair clogged with sand. "What the hell am I doing..."

Straightening his posture with effort, he rolled his shoulders and checked his footing.

"Alright... think."

Eyes shutting briefly, he compelled his thoughts to calm. "She said this is the Dead Clock Spire. So the time flow here in this tower might be different too."

"And that storm..."

Eyes opening, Brandon surveyed the horizon anew, sensing the subtle lingering warp in the atmosphere. "I feel like I got caught up in some fucked up thing."

Glancing at his own form, the gashes and abrasions had sealed up mostly from Dhayun’s regenerative skill, yet his clothes lay in ruins.

’Guess I’ll have to go on foot from here.’

Drawing in a deep breath to steady himself, ’I need to conserve as much ether as possible... after all, I can’t replenish my energy source like women.’

That remained the brutal truth. He depended on whatever ether he’d absorbed, and when it ran out... it stayed gone.

’And who knows what awaits me in this desert...’

Brandon set off walking.

Lacking any obvious path, he picked the direction that pressed least heavily on him.

Each step made his boots sink into the scorching sand, turning the journey sluggish and exhausting.

The sun hammered down without mercy, pulling sweat from his pores right away.

As he pressed on, the desert started its tricks.

Dunes moved subtly whenever his gaze shifted away.

A rock formation he aimed for abruptly seemed much more distant.

At one moment, footprints appeared in the sand before him... his own tracks, pointing the wrong way.

"Fucking hell..."

He pushed forward regardless.

Hours dragged by... or perhaps just minutes.

His grasp on time had grown shaky.

Thirst built gradually, leaving his tongue swollen and parched. He tapped Dhayun’s healing skill lightly against the dehydration, aware it wouldn’t last indefinitely.

At last, the rock formations he pursued drew nearer.

Viewed up close, they loomed as gigantic black stone pillars, carved with dim, luminous runes.

Amid the two biggest pillars stood a worn stone archway, partially swallowed by sand.

Brandon drew near with care. ’An exit gate... or perhaps a trap.’

*THOOM* Abruptly, sand around it burst upward.

Three massive guardians arose, resembling swirling sand humanoids with eerie, glowing eyes.

Brandon eyed them, sighing inwardly. ’Are you for real?’

No chance to voice his gripe.

SWOOOSH-

The lead guardian surged ahead without delay.

Its right arm stretched out, solidifying into a huge compressed-sand blade that slashed at Brandon’s chest with horrifying velocity.

Brandon dodged aside at the final instant, the blade slicing past with a sharp whistle and savage hiss through the air.

Leaping high, he spun in midair and slammed his fist into the guardian’s face with brute force.

CRACK!

The guardian’s head burst apart in a spray of sand, its form reeling back from the impact.

For an instant, collapse seemed imminent.

Yet the sand refused to remain dispersed.

The shattered face reformed nearly at once, grains whirling back like footage in reverse.

Brandon’s eyes narrowed faintly. ’Raw power can harm it... but regeneration happens far too fast. I need to obliterate it in one strike before recovery kicks in.’

Firmly rooting his feet in the sand, muscles bunched as he readied a mightier blow.

Yet before he could act—

A precise, deep cut ripped across the air.

*SHING-*

The giant guardian cleaved neatly in two from shoulder to hip.

*THOOOM* Its halves detonated outward in a furious sand eruption, fragments flying chaotically before reforming could begin.

Brandon’s gaze flickered. ’Someone’s here...’

Amid the guardian’s falling remnants and churning sand, a silhouette stepped from the dust haze.

Lovely white hair cascaded and danced elegantly in the blazing desert breeze, gleaming like new-fallen snow under the sun.

Sky-blue eyes, serene but brimming with subtle fervor, fixed upon him.

Her white gown billowed softly, a slim, long blade glowing faintly in her right grip.

Brandon’s eyes bulged in complete astonishment at the recognizable visage.

’Rheanne Himelle...?’