Chapter 137

After racing endlessly across a sea of identical sand for a few hours, Leon’s party finally reached the site where the caravan had been wiped out. However, what they saw wasn’t exactly what they had hoped for.

“There’s nothing here...” Leon muttered.

In the desert, the passing of hours meant the erasure of all evidence. If the wind had been calm, it might have been different, but here, strong gusts blew across the land. Within ten minutes, dunes shifted by several steps; after hours, shriveled corpses would be buried completely.

Karen tested the wind with her fingers and clicked her tongue, commenting, “No good. The wind’s too strong. It’s enough to change the entire landscape in a single hour.”

“We were too late, then.”

To be precise, it was just too far. Even if they hadn’t been running at full speed, the three moved faster than most fine steeds. Yet even at that relentless pace, it had still taken hours.

Sharing their disappointment, Elahan murmured, “If only Cardinal Irexana were here, he could have helped ....”

“How?” Leon asked.

“He commands the spirits of the earth. By reading the memories carved into the land, he can see events from even a day ago.”

Spirit arts, powers that directly interfered with nature, could achieve what Aura or magic could not, depending on their attributes. At low levels, spirit contracts were barely different from low-tier magic, but for high-level spirit mages like Irexana, it was possible to even summon earthquakes with ease. It wasn’t widely known, simply because so few could use it.

“Still, we can’t exactly drag His Eminence out here. The earth’s memory, or something, would also be wiped by then, right?”

“Yes, I only meant it’s a shame,” Elahan replied to Karen’s words with a wry smile.

She was right. The Grand Meister of Jugend held both honor and practical power. The higher the office, the heavier the responsibility. Unless it was an internal issue like the Great Vein expedition, someone of that rank could hardly move beyond the borders.

Still unwilling to give up, Elahan tried invoking Revelation once, but the Holy Iron Breaker didn’t move.

“

Oh

, well.”

Leon had to admit their efforts had come up empty.

“We’ll stop tracking here. Let’s head to the nearest village and gather more information.”

“

Ugh

, this is why I hate the desert,” Karen muttered, perhaps out of a rogue’s sense of duty, blaming herself for returning empty-handed.

Of course, if even an A-rank rogue couldn’t find clues, no one could. Still, failing right in front of the Hero she was supposed to impress clearly stung her pride.

As the three were getting ready to depart once again, a faint sound rolled from beyond the horizon. The three turned their heads toward where the sound was coming from. It was a low rumbling of hooves.

Not horses. Camels.

And it wasn’t just one or two. Karen pricked her ears sharply and counted. Whoever they were, they didn’t bother to hide their presence as they approached.

“Fifty-two camels. Assuming there are two riders on each of them, that’s just over a hundred people,” she muttered.

“Bandits?”

Elahan swung her Holy Iron Breaker playfully, itching to smash the skulls of any villains. A sight that would make even an A-rank wanted criminal wet himself.

Karen, however, frowned suspiciously and said, “No... they’re too disciplined for bandits. Their formation is as tight as an elite cavalry unit.”

Bandits were trash—men who abandoned honest lives for plunder. Human refuse, fit only to be discarded. For such scum to train like elite cavalry, and to maintain formation while moving to attack just three travelers? It was impossible.

“Well, we’ll know soon enough.”

Leon waited calmly for their arrival. Even if they were bandits, it wasn’t a problem. His party’s strength was far beyond what a rabble could handle.

Soon, a rising cloud of dust swept toward them, circling as if to surround. Out of the sandstorm came Turbaned men with scimitars in hand.

Piecing together the signs, Karen muttered, “Bedouin warriors...?”

The word “Bedouin” meant “desert dwellers” in the old tongue. With generations of clan wars and survival struggles, they had grown into a formidable force.

The warriors encircling them soon halted their camels. From among them, a man who seemed the leader stepped forward.

“

Hm

, outsiders,” the man muttered.

Like the others, he wore a white turban. His heavy moustache lent him a commanding air.

The Aura radiating around him was considerable. By Guild standards, he was around the bottom of A-rank, and with years of experience as a desert warrior, he was not to be taken lightly. His right hand rested on his sword hilt, ready to draw.

His manner was anything but friendly. Karen’s eyes chilled as she answered back.

“I’ve heard desert dwellers are generous hosts. Didn’t know your custom was to greet guests with steel.”

At that, the warriors behind him growled.

“Impudent wench...!”

“Know who you speak to!”

The moustached man raised his hand to silence them, his eyes flashing.

“Enough,” he commanded his men before turning to Leon’s party. “Whether you’ll be guests of the desert, or its enemies, depends on how you answer my question.”

“Then ask,” Leon replied without hesitation, which only made the man smile faintly as if pleased.

“Not afraid, are you? Neither you nor your companions.”

“There’s nothing here to be afraid of.”

“

Oh

? I’d test that boldness myself, but alas, time is short. I’ll ask one quick question.”

Then, as if his friendliness had been a lie, the man released a needle-like killing intent in all directions.

“Have you seen a caravan pass through here? A large one, visible even from a distance.”

Leon answered honestly, “No, we haven’t.”

“Truth?”

“Yes. In fact, you’re the first people we’ve seen.”

“

Hm

...”

Even with his firm voice, the moustached man’s suspicion didn’t fade. However, he hesitated to threaten possibly innocent travelers by force.

Elahan looked at him. Though his manner seemed harsh, his intent to use violence was absent, and beneath it, she sensed even a trace of regret.

Elahan stepped forward and clasped her hands, saying, “I will vouch for them.”

A faint light of Holy Law rose around her, easing the hostility in the onlookers’ eyes.

She added, “In the name of the Holy Church and by the mercy of the Goddess, I swear his words are true.”

“

Ah,

you had a clergy among you.”

At last, the man stepped back, setting aside his suspicion. Even the Bedouin, who did not worship gods, would not dare profane the name of the Holy Church. They might not recognize noble rank, but they acknowledged the integrity of the Church and its clergy.

Even the warriors, riled by Karen’s words, turned their eyes away in embarrassment.

“My apologies. The situation is dire, and I have wronged you with my rudeness.”

“It’s fine. No harm was done.”

When the moustached man bowed with sincere gravity, Leon accepted the apology without pressing further. Then, with natural ease, he asked, “By the way, what is this dire situation you mentioned?”

“

Hm

... well...” the man hesitated, but since they had nearly threatened innocent travelers, he decided it was only right if he offered some explanation. “Recently, disappearances have been on the rise. No one knows why.”

“Disappearances?”

“It isn’t unheard of in the desert. But these are not outsiders. Men who’ve weathered sandstorms for decades vanish overnight without a trace. Suspicious, wouldn’t you agree?” the man said with a sigh, almost seeking Leon’s agreement. “And it’s not only people. The monsters we hunt for food are vanishing, too. Their numbers dwindle without a single corpse left behind. Something stalks this desert, taking them all.”

“...”

“Be careful. I’d ask the path you traveled, if you’re willing to share...”

“That much we can do.”

Leon shared their route, and the man ordered that area removed from their search pattern. The desert was vast beyond reason. The search range had to be narrowed however possible.

“As for amends, perhaps it isn’t much, but I can tell you of a village nearby. Would you like that?”

“We would be grateful.”

Elahan’s Revelation only pointed direction. Distance or detail could not be derived.

“From here, ride a half-day westward on camel. You’ll find a large oasis, and around it, a great settlement has formed. There’s even a Guild branch.”

“Any dangers we should be aware of?”

“Nothing particular.

Ah

—one more thing. Keep what I’ve told you secret. If word spreads of a mass disappearance, panic will follow.”

“Understood.”

The man, who finally gave his name as Rahmu, repeated the warning several times before departing with his warriors. He was clearly a man of no small rank among the Bedouin.

Karen and Elahan came to Leon’s side.

“Suspicious.”

“Very suspicious.”

Leon agreed. Something that slaughtered both man and monster without leaving a trace? Such a thing shouldn’t exist. A mad Swordmaster roaming the desert would have been a more believable tale. Without evidence, Leon couldn’t stop Rahmu, but it was better if the man never encountered the true culprit.

“The Bedouin can’t handle this alone,” he muttered.

Even Sand Worms, with little to no intelligence, had been so terrified they fled, ignoring the smell of their own kin’s blood. And if their leader, the one who’s supposed to be the strongest of them, was only around A-rank, they stood no chance. And also, beyond that, Leon felt a dreadful malice in the work of this unknown being.

“It’s dangerous. If this continues, the desert will erupt in war,” Leon said.

“War?” Elahan’s eyes widened.

Leon nodded once and explained, “We’re looking at a being of at least provisional S-rank. If it roams the desert killing man and beast alike, what happens to the nomads who don’t farm?”

“They’ll run out of food...” Karen said, understanding what Leon was hinting at.

“And if the oases are attacked, it’s over. Lose water in the heart of the desert, and death is the only end. And then?”

Leon looked back at them. Elahan didn’t understand yet. She had crushed heretics with the Holy Iron Breaker, but she had never been forced to face those who turned to evil out of desperation.

Karen, who had seen the depths of the underworld, knew. She had lived in that shadow world herself.

“Of course,” her voice was low and grim. “When food and water are gone, and monsters close in... they’ll strike their neighbors.”

“What?!”

“To the north of the desert lies the beastkin’s plains. In good times, it was little more than scuffles and some trade. But when survival is at stake, everything changes.”

Even good neighbors could turn. For friends, for family—when a starving parent looked at a dying child, even the kindest heart would take up a weapon and knock on a neighbor’s door.

If the request was granted, all was well. If both sides had enough to share, they could survive together. But what if the request was denied?

“The desert’s population is larger than you’d think. And relations between nomads and beastkin are already strained. The desert expands every year, forcing nomads to creep into beastkin lands.”

“But... what if the neighboring kingdoms helped?” Elahan asked, but Karen was quick to shut her down.

“They won’t. The Holy Church might, but those who act from profit will never move. The nomads have nothing to give in return.”

A land without coin, without resources, relying only on barter. The nomads, the beastkin—none had anything outsiders wanted.

Men had blood in their veins, but organizations did not. Only the Holy Church moved out of compassion.

“If we don’t stop this, war is inevitable,” Leon said.

Whether chaos followed them, or whether the Hero’s instincts drew them into it,Leon gave a bitter smile as he retraced his steps. This time, too, their path was set.

“We’ll stop the war from happening in the Great Desert.”

They would mediate between nomads and beastkin and slay the monster running rampant across the sands. As if in answer to his resolve, El-Cid flashed once.

For a Hero, peace was a luxury. The jaws of a tumultuous fate were already waiting.