Chapter 20.2: Hold It In

Chapter 20.2: Hold It In

Calidora and Girunini both froze, their heads filled with question marks as they watched the now chuckling Myza.

"Haha, my apologies, it's a bad habit of mine. Every time new guests arrive, I can't help but scare them a little," Myza confessed as he walked toward the graveyard, gently brushing his palms over the tombstones. "Some buried here died of illnesses or didn't survive their injuries that they carried here. The rest died naturally having reached the end of their life cycles."

"You are saying..." Calidora blinked several times. "That they died of old age here?"

"Yes, they were all my friends," Myza explained. "Although this desert is considered a lifeless zone, there are always some unfortunate souls who, for various reasons, are forced to enter here.

"Of course, the majority are devoured by the desert, but there are always a few lucky ones who end up here."

"And then they never want to leave, especially because there's shaved ice here," Girunini jested. shaking the cup of shaved ice in front of her. "You know, I was dreaming of shaved ice every single minute while walking through the desert, though your earlier scare has made me a little hesitant to eat it now."

"I apologize for that. Please, go ahead and eat. I didn't put anything weird in it." Myza laughed heartily. "If I wanted to take pleasure in harming others, why would I choose to do it in the middle of this godforsaken desert?"

"That... makes sense," Girunini nodded, then eagerly scooped up a spoonful of shaved ice into her mouth. Having been trekking through the desert on foot for two whole months, she had craved for shaved ice desperately.Vissit novelbin(.)c.om for updates

Calidora glanced at her companion in resignation, she herself not intending to touch the spoon yet. She asked, "I can understand why they wouldn't want to leave, but Mr. Myza, why don't you want to leave?"

"Me? Oh, I have no reason to leave. It's because I belong here, and I ought to stay here," Myza said with a smile.

"You belong here?" Calidora asked.

"Mm, yes. I can only tell you that I belong here." Myza stroked his chin. "As for the details... Well, that's a long story, and I'm not really in the mood to tell it right now."

"Sorry, it was impertinent of me to ask." Calidora scratched her cheek sheepishly.

"No harm done. Just as you're curious about me, it's natural for me to be curious about you," Myza said. "Maybe when I feel like it, I'll tell you about my past... Mm, is there anything else you ladies like to ask? I'll need to check on our roast lamb soon."

"Ah, there's one more thing," Calidora responded at once. "Why do you take such good care of strangers who arrive here?"

"Hahaha, I've been asked that question many times." Myza laughed heartily. "The answer is simple. Being alone in this desolate desert city is just too boring..."

Meanwhile, outside the city gates, a brawny warrior clad in an orange cloak roared furiously as he swung his great axe toward the stone guard.

However, faced with this charge, the stone sentinel merely lifted its right hand to parry the blow. A sharp clang resonated, and the heavy axe shattered into a cloud of metal fragments.

In the next moment, at a speed nearly invisible to the naked eye, the stone sentinel grasped the warrior's head.

Accompanied by a gruesome crunch, the warrior's head was crushed like a watermelon, his blood and brains splattering all over the stone sentinel, adding a layer of horror to its otherwise stoic and simple appearance.

Further ahead, several other orange-cloaked beings were engaged in battle with more stone sentinels.

A sturdy shield turned into dust; with just one punch, a cloaked shield guard was pierced through the chest.

Swift crossbow bolts fell like gentle spring rain, barely leaving marks on the stone sentinels. A cloaked archer, intent on attacking, hadn't even reacted when his neck was snapped by a sudden slap to his head.

A scout seemed to put on a fierce offense, his curved blade whirling rapidly as he hacked at the stone sentinel, but each strike only left a white scratch on the hard surface. In contrast, a single swing of the guardian's fist was all it took to pulverize the cloaked scout, blade and all.

As for the warriors.

The warriors were long dead.

They thought themselves adept at close combat, but clearly, their opponents this time were far superior.

Once the vanguard was lost, a mage who hadn't completed his incantation was brutally torn in half by a stone sentinel.

Once the protective shell of a cleric was shattered, he, too, was smashed into a bloody pulp.

In less than three minutes, an entire standard cloaked squad was annihilated by the iron fists of a few stone sentinels.

At that time, Myza appeared at the city gate.

Glancing at the mangled heaps of pounded flesh, he frowned. "Damn, what the hell are these things that look like people but aren't..."