Chapter 28
This is what true serenity feels like.
The blazing sun and the incessant wind. The sound of Kusilres hooves faded as they were buried in the sand. Ian felt an inexplicable peace as he gazed at the horizon that seemed to rise like a mirage.
Ugh
Every now and then, Berics voice, sounding as though he was on the brink of death, reached Ians ears, but nobody paid any mind. In the desert, those who are to die should die swiftly, and those who are to live must find a way to survive at all costs.
Holding out half of the remaining water bottle, Ian asked, Are you okay?
I feel like dying
From just this?
Well, not exactly
It had been only a day since they had entered the desert from the border. If there was a variable in their journey, it was Berics tolerance to the heat. His red hair, which seemed to absorb the heat directly, clung damply to his forehead, soaked in sweat. The guide who had been leading them came up from behind.
If youre going to die, get off here. I pity your Kusilre.
Upon hearing the guides sarcastic remark, Beric merely scowled. This place was lawless territory beyond the border. The guide was a member of the Cheonrye tribe, and damnably, his accompanying master was deemed as a reconciliation sacrifice. Yet, Beric contemplated making a rude gesture even as he panted.
Hold on.
Whooosh-!
The winds direction changed. The guide at the front halted, causing the procession to stop as well. The guide checked the wind direction by waving a dried branch.
Whats happening?
A sandstorm is approaching. Its moving faster than I anticipated.
How close is it?
We should encounter it in a few hours.
The leaders, including the chieftain, looked up at the sky. Unfortunately, as it was daytime, no stars were visible.
Well set up the tents for a while.The initial instance of this chapter being available happened at N0v3l.Bin.
It meant a long meeting was about to ensue. Upon Kakantirs order, a large shade was spread, and everyone rested and gave their Kusilres water. Ian did the same. After taking care of his Kusilre, he offered water to Berics parched lips.
You did say youd be my escort, but youre pretty impressive.
You didnt say itd be this hot.
I didnt expect you to be unfamiliar with the desert.
I know what a desert is! I do! Geez. Give me more water.
Ian handed Beric the water bottle and then rummaged through a small bag. Inside, there was a map of the desert and a list of weather forecasts that he had received from the tutor.
How far have we come?
He marked their route on the map whenever their path changed. Their progress seemed accurate. Although Beric complained, the Cheonrye tribe pushed their Kusilres without any concessions. They probably did so out of concern for the health of Chief Winchen.
A sandstorm.
Ian pointed to a spot on the map. Their current location overlapped with a storm route labeled A12. Considering they started their journey the previous day, the estimated time difference for the storms arrival was about four hours, aligning with the guides prediction.
What are you looking at?
Soo, you havent even broken a sweat.
The guide chuckled as she chewed on dried dates.
I was born in the heat and raised facing the desert sands. I am a warrior.
I see. How long is the break?
Around 10 minutes. We should start packing soon.
She seemed pleased that Ian acknowledged her warrior status. She handed him a couple of dates and moved on.
Attention! Well depart in 5 minutes. We need to move swiftly to avoid the storm!
Which direction should we position the Kusilres heads?
To the east.
Understood.
Following the chieftains instructions, everyone adjusted their Kusilres heads to face the right direction. Amidst the hustle, only two remained motionless: Ian and Beric. Though, considering Beric looked half-fallen, it made sense.
Is there an issue?
Did you just mention heading east?
Yes.
Ian decided he would have to infuse magic instead of water and nodded.
The wind started to blow again, different from before a lower, shorter gust.
* * *
Huh?
Several days passed like that.
Just as they were getting accustomed to the harsh heat of the desert day and the coldness of the night, the guide who was leading the way broke the silence. The guide was someone who seldom made a sound.
Taking that as a signal, Kakantir, who was behind, raised his head, followed by Nersarn, and soon the entire group focused forward.
Trees?
Ian thought the same.
On the horizon, something green was visible. Soon, the horn sounds of the Cheonrye tribe echoed, and they shouted in elation.
Weve arrived! Its Cheonrye!
Youve all worked hard.
Thank you for your efforts! Demosha!
Demosha!
Beric, who was half-asleep atop the Kusile, also rubbed his eyes and got up. His already tanned skin seemed even darker.
Have we arrived?
Yes.
As they neared their destination, the sand became firmer. The Kusilre walked more energetically, and within an hour, they reached their destination.
Its Chieftain Kakantir!
Ian surveyed the land of the Cheonrye tribe.
For a remote tribe, their architectural skills were quite advanced. Tents stood packed within white stone walls. Palm trees on the sand looked lush and vibrant, and various colored fabrics fluttered, fading in the golden sand. The road conditions were also good. They seemed to have their own sewage system
Kakan! Come over!
Youve had a long journey. This way!
Prepare water and meals for everyone!
Is that Ian? Or that one?
Obviously, the blonde one. The one next to him looks feisty.
Amidst the bustling welcome crowd, everyone exchanged joyous greetings. The three who had departed earlier to inform the group were also relieved and returned to their routines.
Where is Chief Winchen?
She is said to be recovering.
Thats a relief.
Kakantir gave a nod to Ian, signaling him to follow. As he dismounted from the Kusilre, all the tribespeople curiously stared. Beric, still half-asleep, followed Ian.
Creak
As they pulled back the canopy adorned with beads, a scent of cinnamon wafted in. Inside was cool and dark.
In the middle, an old person lay on a bed. Her skin, deeply marked by time, seemed saggy and frail.
Winchen. Kakantir has returned.
Ah Chieftain. My apologies.
How do you feel?
That person was the chief of the Cheonrye, the so-called root of the tribe, a gypsy named Winchen who discerns truth from lies. The old woman slowly sat up.
This is Ian, who is with us due to the agreement with Bratz.
When Winchen stood up, a ray of light lit her face. Her pupils were cloudy, like they had mold. The rumors that she was blind were true.
I wish to confirm if Ian is the suitable one.
Ian. Answer my question.
Yes, Chief.
The old woman moved her lips ponderously, thinking of something. Soon, she posed a somewhat unexpected question.
Did Ian Bratz come here by the will of the gods?
In the desert, Ian realized that unexpected events, like this, always occur.