MY HIDDEN TALENT IS FORBIDDEN BY THE HEAVENS-Chapter 122: ORDERS AND QUESTIONS

Chapter 122 — ORDERS AND QUESTIONS

Morning did not arrive gently.

It arrived in motion.

The desert wind carried the scent of cooling embers and trampled sand across Sandridge Village. Lanterns from the night before still hung overhead, dimmed and swaying lightly in the pale dawn light. The square, which had been full of laughter and music hours ago, now bore only faint footprints and folded tables stacked neatly along the walls.

Bronze Squad was already awake.

Hunters did not sleep deeply after celebration.

Colby stepped out first, stretching his arms overhead. "I almost forgot what it feels like to not wake up covered in sand."

Marek adjusted his bowstring quietly. "You snore."

"That is battlefield intimidation."

Darius ignored them, checking his spear’s edge.

Ryn crouched near the Tyrant’s corpse, which had been dragged to the village outskirts. His expression wasn’t casual.

Zehell approached him silently.

"What is it?"

Ryn brushed sand away from a section of exposed armor plating.

"It’s... different."

Long Hao stepped closer.

The corpse should have been heavy. Dense. Intact.

Instead, the cracks along its skull and crest had deepened overnight. The flesh around the wound Zehell had inflicted looked strangely dry.

Not decayed.

Drained.

Colby frowned. "That wasn’t like that yesterday."

Darius stepped in, examining the fracture lines. "Something fed."

"But there are no bite marks," Marek said.

Long Hao crouched lower.

His fingers hovered over a faint groove inside the cracked bone.

Not claw.

Not tooth.

Not natural.

A thin, geometric etching.

Almost deliberate.

Zehell saw it too.

"Village animals?" she asked calmly.

"No," Long Hao said.

The word was quiet.

Certain.

Before further discussion could unfold—

The sound of engines tore across the desert.

All heads snapped toward the horizon.

A transport convoy approached at high speed, dust spiraling behind reinforced tires.

Colby groaned. "That’s not a village cart."

The vehicles bore the insignia of the Frontline Hunters Guild.

Silver-tier.

Zehell’s posture sharpened instantly.

"Formation."

Not defensive.

Formal.

The convoy halted at the edge of the square. Doors opened. Two armored hunters stepped out first, followed by a tall woman in silver-trimmed gear, her cloak lined with insignia denoting command clearance.

Her gaze swept across Bronze Squad once.

"Captain Zehell."

Zehell stepped forward. "Silver Officer."

The woman nodded once. "Sector Three is under full lockdown. High Command has issued immediate recall for all Bronze and Silver squads within east perimeter."

Colby blinked. "Lockdown? Already?"

"The disturbance has escalated."

Zehell’s eyes flicked briefly toward Long Hao.

"Escalated how?"

The officer’s gaze sharpened slightly. "Anomalous resonance detected beneath multiple sand sectors. Not isolated."

Long Hao felt it.

That word.

Resonance.

The officer continued. "Preliminary readings suggest artificial amplification. Possibly coordinated."

Marek muttered under his breath. "Coordinated by what?"

"We don’t know," the officer replied coldly. "That is why we are consolidating forces."

Darius straightened. "Orders?"

"Return to Ruinsand Wall immediately. Debrief upon arrival."

Zehell nodded once. "Understood."

The officer’s gaze shifted briefly to the Tyrant’s corpse. She frowned.

"King-tier?"

"Yes."

"And you eliminated it."

"Yes."

The officer studied Zehell for half a second longer before turning back toward her vehicle.

"Debrief will be mandatory."

The convoy engines roared again.

Within seconds, they were gone.

Silence fell over the square.

Colby exhaled. "We just can’t have one peaceful night, can we?"

Ryn shook his head. "Not in this region."

Zehell looked toward Long Hao.

"You knew something."

It wasn’t accusation.

It was observation.

Long Hao stood, brushing sand from his fingers.

"I suspected."

"Based on?"

He hesitated half a breath.

"Pattern."

Zehell held his gaze.

The others began packing equipment quietly, sensing the shift.

She stepped slightly aside, lowering her voice.

"You’re not telling me everything."

The morning light caught her green hair as wind lifted it gently around her shoulders. The festive softness from the night before had faded. What remained was clarity.

Long Hao did not look away.

"There are things I don’t understand yet."

"That’s not what I asked."

She wasn’t angry.

She wasn’t confrontational.

Just steady.

He exhaled slowly.

"The Tyrant wasn’t random."

"I agree."

"It wasn’t testing the village."

"It was testing us."

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"You."

He didn’t respond.

She studied him.

"You reacted differently when the Silver officer said ’resonance.’"

Long Hao’s jaw tightened faintly.

"You noticed."

"I notice everything."

A beat passed between them.

"Are we in danger because of you?" she asked quietly.

The question was not hostile.

It was captain-to-squad.

Responsibility.

He answered honestly.

"I don’t know."

She held his gaze for a long moment.

Then nodded once.

"That’s not good enough."

Silence stretched between them.

"I need to know whether my squad is walking into something larger than a territorial shift."

"You are," he said.

Her expression did not change.

"Because of Sector Three?"

"Yes."

"And because of you?"

He did not answer immediately.

The wind shifted.

The desert felt... listening.

Finally—

"Yes."

There was no drama in it.

Just fact.

Zehell absorbed that without flinching.

"Then you don’t get to carry it alone."

He blinked once.

"That wasn’t an offer," she added calmly. "That was operational reality."

Colby shouted from behind them. "Captain! If we’re brooding, can we do it on the jeep?"

Zehell didn’t break eye contact.

"You’ll explain when you understand it."

"Yes."

"And until then?"

"I will ensure it doesn’t compromise the squad."

Her gaze softened a fraction.

"You already did."

The words landed heavier than expected.

For a moment, the memory flickered again—

The house.

The quiet domestic warmth.

The child with no face.

He pushed it away.

Not now.

Zehell stepped back into command posture.

"Mount up. We move."

—

The jeep tore across the desert once more.

Sandridge Village shrank behind them.

The Tyrant’s corpse remained where it had fallen.

But beneath the sand—

Something shifted.

Long Hao sat in the rear seat, eyes half-lidded.

Longyu’s voice was faint but present.

"Resonance spreading."

"Yes."

"It is not accidental."

"I know."

"You triggered the Anchor."

"Yes."

"And it answered."

He did not respond.

Zehell glanced at him from the driver’s side mirror.

Her expression unreadable.

But attentive.

As Ruinsand’s massive stone walls came into view across the horizon, the air itself felt different.

Heavier.

Charged.

Not chaotic.

Anticipatory.

Colby leaned forward slightly.

"Something feels off."

Darius nodded once.

"Pressure shift."

Marek tightened his grip on his bow unconsciously.

Zehell didn’t slow the vehicle.

"Stay sharp."

Long Hao looked toward the towering circular guild headquarters rising behind the walls.

The world was tightening.

Not collapsing.

Closing in.

And somewhere beneath stone and sand—

The Anchor was no longer silent.

[Chapter ENDS]