"Double everything? Sharojin, what happened..." Arendi, who had been anxiously waiting alongside Sandman, shook the unconscious Sharojin, trying to wake him.
"Enough, stop shaking him. Sharojin probably awakened Psychic Power suddenly, then passed out from overusing it." Sandman stopped Arendi.
"The Tower's response is indeed rather strange." Sandman was not overly surprised by the Tower's demand.
After all, things had already come to this.
Sharojin had most likely been in a hurry to relay information when he suddenly awakened Psychic Power.
Psychic Power was a formidable force originating from the Warp. Powerful Psykers could even destroy planets barehanded—truly terrifying beings.
But while Psykers gained such immense power, they also had to bear equally great dangers.
The stronger a Psyker's Psychic Power became, the more distinct their projection in the Warp. The Warp creatures living there, filled with malice toward intelligent life, would whisper in the Psyker's ears.
The whispers constantly ringing in a Psyker's ears would torment them without end and eventually drive them mad, allowing Chaos Demons to seize the opportunity to possess them.
A Psyker could become a bridge connecting the Warp and the Material Universe at any time, a ticking bomb for Chaos's invasion of the Material Universe.
This was especially true for someone like Sharojin, who had awakened Psychic Power directly under intense emotional stimulation without any warning, then used it without anyone to guide him. Such a situation was extremely dangerous.
All that could be said was that Sharojin truly deserved to be the future Shadow Sword Saint of the Raven Guard. When it came to wielding Shadow Power, none but Korax could match him.
His Ghost Shadow Footwork had beaten a whole crowd of imperial princes until they howled in pain.
"Find two people to take Sharojin back and let him rest properly. We're heading to the northern mine tunnel. I need to explore the Adamantite Vein from another direction, locate the area with the richest reserves." Sandman assigned Arendi a new task.
After what had happened to Sharojin, he would be unable to mine for the next few days. That meant the already severe labor shortage had grown even worse.
The only fortunate thing was that, before setting out that day, Sandman had already sent An and his men to exchange all the minerals in the warehouse. That was a blessing amid misfortune.
But at the same time, it meant the ore warehouse at Saviors Camp was now empty enough to race horses through.
"Good thing I had the foresight. By now, An and the others should have successfully brought the exchanged food back to camp." Sandman was just congratulating himself on his foresight.
Just as Sandman and Arendi prepared to conduct further mineral surveys, an accident suddenly occurred.
"Boss, this is bad! The team that went to exchange supplies was attacked! So many brothers died, and An was seriously wounded too!" Two miners staggered toward the mine site while supporting a miner slave coughing up blood. When they saw Sandman, they called out as though they had spotted a savior.
"What happened?" Sandman crossed the distance in a few quick strides and anxiously questioned his companion, who had gone to exchange supplies that morning.
"Boss, the raiders from the west attacked us. By the time I came to report it, many brothers had already died. Several others were seriously wounded, and An was badly hurt too." The messenger spoke through tears.
"What about the supplies? How much did we lose?" Sandman asked urgently.
"The supplies are fine. Luckily, the Agapito Brothers sent us reinforcements, and we held out until the other camp members came to support us," said the other man supporting the wounded companion.
"As long as the supplies are safe, that's good. Take him back. I'll return to the camp first and see what's going on." Sandman gave his orders. He could only go on ahead.
"Since you're so eager to die, then die!" Sandman declared his decision in an incomparably icy tone as he headed toward his camp.
At this point, there was only one answer: kill!
Ever since arriving in this world, Sandman had kept himself confined within his camp, rarely involving himself with matters beyond it.
But now, his companions who had spent every day with him had been attacked and killed. Even An, who always seemed rather foolish, had suffered grievous injuries. This time, Sandman was truly enraged.
The blood his companions had spilled could only be repaid with even more enemy blood!
The mine train only carried miners back along the tracks from various locations when they went down into the mine or came back up.
At all other times, if anything happened, the miners on Lycaeus could only walk back on their own two legs. That was why he had chosen to return first.
Otherwise, with an injured man in tow, who knew how long it would take?
"Breathe... in... out..."
Sandman controlled his pace and breathing to maintain his condition as he ran relentlessly toward his camp.
About twenty minutes later, Sandman, who had maintained a steady run the entire way, finally saw the familiar cluster of buildings in his camp, along with his companions who had gone on alert.
"Boss is back! The boss is back! Open the gate!" someone with sharp eyes hurriedly shouted to the others.
With everyone's efforts, the heavy stone gate let out a grating creak and opened a gap wide enough for one person to pass through.
"Keep watch. I'll go check on An and the others first." Sandman rushed through the gate toward the infirmary.
The heavy stone gate then shut tightly again.
The infirmary, despite having "medical" in its name, was extremely rudimentary inside. A stone bed stood in a conspicuous spot.
Several chipped instruments sat on a stone shelf along the wall. Yet their symbolic value far outweighed their practical use, because they had long since broken down.
No one knew how old these instruments were, but they were older than every miner here.
"How is An?" Sandman strode into the treatment room and asked anxiously.
"Lord Sandman, An's injuries are severe. I've used the last of our antibiotics and adrenaline. Now, all we can do is rely on his own will to survive!" Seleke, the camp doctor, looked at Sandman with a troubled expression...
At the same time, he pulled aside the white curtain used to block the view. The powerfully built An was lying on the stone bed in the infirmary.
A massive wound ran through his entire chest. It appeared to have been caused by a large bladed weapon, something like a machete.
Thin trickles of blood still seeped from the stitched wound from time to time.
The once mighty, imposing man was now pale as paper, his breathing incredibly weak.
"You've done all you can. I believe in them." After examining An's injuries, Sandman gave Seleke those instructions, then silently left the infirmary.
The Killing Intent in his heart could no longer be restrained. The team sent to exchange supplies had numbered over two hundred men. Now, thirty-two were dead and twenty were wounded—sixteen seriously, fourteen lightly.
That meant the camp had instantly lost more than fifty able-bodied workers. On Lycaeus, those seriously wounded had a high chance of dying!
Before you continue