Sand Mage of the Burnt Desert

Chapter 38

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Chapter 38

“Father, there’s no need to do this, right?”

“If we don’t listen to them, our colony and caravan won’t survive.”

“But do you really think they’ll keep their promise?”

The voices of two people arguing echoed through the caravan.

The sources of these voices were none other than the father and son, Damian and Beloff.

Damian clenched his fists tightly, staring up at Beloff.

Beloff looked slightly uncomfortable, meeting his son’s gaze.

Damian spoke up.

“It was father who said that the life of a caravan is trust.”

“I know.”

“But why listen to them? They don’t even treat us like humans.”

“Sigh. What choice do we have? That’s the reality of it.”

Beloff let out a deep sigh.

At that moment, his face seemed significantly aged.

He glanced down at Dyoden and Zeon, who were lying amicably together.

It was due to the sleeping pills hidden in the jerky and alcohol they consumed.

Even a mighty monster could be put to sleep instantly by such potent sedatives.

Since it wasn’t poison, even the most resistant Awakened were left helpless.

Damian looked at the two lying down, lips tightly shut, and eyes full with resentment towards his father.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand Beloff’s position.

He bore the heavy responsibility of leading the caravan and managing the economy of Kamchatka Colony.

He had to consider and decide everything from the standpoint of the colony.

“Haa… I really don’t know.”

Damian exhaled heavily.

“You can leave everything to your father. I will take on both the blame and hatred. You just focus on honing your skills.”

“Father?”

“The caravan needs you to sustain it. So, concentrate on your duties without entertaining other thoughts.”

With his father’s words echoing, Damian shook his head and walked to the front of the warehouse.

He was in charge of herding the Mammoth.

Beloff glanced at his son for a moment, then promptly ordered his subordinates.

“Hurry. We don’t know when the effects of the sleeping pills will wear off. We need to reach the meeting point before that.”

“Yes!”

His subordinates answered, bustling around.

Amidst this, Damian issued commands to the Mammoth.

“There’s quicksand up ahead. Turn slightly to the right.”

As if understanding Damian’s words, the Mammoth veered to the right. The warehouses trailing behind followed suit, changing direction.

And Damian’s instructions continued.

“Turn here and head north.”

The Mammoth faithfully followed his commands.

Damian’s ability was extraordinarily special—he was a Navigator.

That is, a guide.

In the vast desert, having someone who could accurately set directions and cover long distances was possible only with a guide.

Within all large caravans, there is at least one guide. But among them, Damian’s ability was very special.

Damian’s ability to anticipate dangers in advance was exceptionally rare.

Thanks to this, Beloff’s led caravan could reach such distant places. Without Damian, it would have been impossible.

“Phew!”

But Beloff’s feelings towards Damian were infinitely complex.

His son’s ability was both a blessing and a curse.

In this world turned desert, the ability of a guide was absolute.

Guides were exceedingly rare, and among them, there was none like Damian who could anticipate dangers in advance.

If anyone else discovered Damian’s ability, they’d surely covet it.

“Haa!”

Beloff let out another deep sigh.

He achieved his goal, but his nerves were in turmoil.

At that moment, the voices of his subordinates brought Beloff back to reality.

“We see the destination.”

“The Valley of Death.”

Beloff composed himself and looked ahead.

In the distance, a strangely shaped canyon came into view.

The canyon was made up of solidified sandstone, resembling undulating waves that flowed gracefully like a piece of art.

No one would have known such a place existed in the middle of the desert.

Beloff, too, if not for Damian’s ability, would never have discovered this place.

This was their destination.

Suddenly, a group of soldiers emerged from the Valley of Death.

Like Beloff and Damian, they wore turbans and donned Daraas—a necessary choice for operating in the desert.

The difference was that they wore armor made of leather beneath the Daraas.

These individuals emerging from the Valley of Death were human.

Humans with sun-darkened skin and sharp features. Although their builds varied, a sense of strength emanated from each of them.

Facing them, Beloff felt his whole body tense.

He hurriedly descended from the warehouse, approaching the humans who emerged from the Valley of Death.

Nodding, Beloff spoke.

“Hey, as promised, we brought them.”

“Are you sure?”

The man who appeared to be their leader spoke up.

In that instant, Beloff felt a chill as if the temperature in the desert had dropped.

The voice was devoid of any warmth or emotion. Instead, it was filled with venom and murderous intent.

If desert vipers were to evolve into a human form, this man before him would resemble them.

Beloff gestured hastily to his subordinates. They brought Dyoden and Zeon, who were lying limp.

“Hmm… Indeed,”

The leader’s eyes sparked as he inspected Dyoden’s face.

He unsheathed a scimitar from his waist and advanced towards Dyoden.

At that moment, Beloff intercepted the leader.

“I’ve kept my promise. Now it’s your turn. You won’t interfere with our caravan and colony.”

“Of course.”

The leader chuckled, revealing his white teeth.

Instantly, Beloff felt a shiver run down his spine.

The leader continued speaking without paying him further attention.

“We, the Kurayan people, always keep our promises. But only to the Kurayan people… though.”

“What?”

Slash!

At that moment, an eerie sound of severing echoed.

Beloff blinked.

Suddenly, he felt excruciating pain in his chest.

Looking down, he saw his chest split open, revealing his organs.

Drip!

Blood dripped from the scimitar in the leader’s hand.

It dawned on Beloff what had just happened.

The leader had slashed his chest with the sword.

“Wh-why? You promised…”

“Didn’t I say? Promises are only for fellow Kurayans.”

“Gah! Ugh!”

“Father!”

Seeing Beloff collapsing, Damian rushed forward frantically.

The leader ordered his subordinates.

[Translator – Peptobismol]

“The precious guide. Kill everyone else except him.”

“Yes!”

The subordinates answered and leaped onto the caravan’s warehouses.

“Krrgh!”

“Please, spare us!”

Beloff’s men screamed as they fell.

Though some were Awakened themselves, they couldn’t withstand the Kurayans.

The Kurayans, Awakends bred for murder, wielded scimitars much like their leader’s. The crescent-shaped blades were now stained crimson with the caravan people’s blood.

“This can’t be happening!”

Damian trembled, feeling like he was trapped in a nightmare.

He could have never imagined losing his father right before his eyes.

The leader lifted Damian’s chin with the scimitar.

“Guide! From now on, you work for us. Understand?”

“Ugh!”

Trembling, Damian nodded his head.

In truth, his mind was utterly blank, unable to formulate any thoughts. He merely nodded unconsciously.

A sardonic smirk played on the leader’s lips.

“If I had known I would defeat Dyoden this easily, I wouldn’t have brought the others.”

The troops mounted on horses from the Valley of Death revealed themselves.

Dressed similarly to the leader, they were noticeably different in appearance.

Some had pointed ears, while others were shorter, with broadened shoulders.

They were elves and dwarves.

One of the elves rushed forward.

With luscious blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes, she was a striking female elf.

Sighing, she lamented upon seeing the sprawled bodies.

“You promised to spare them. Isn’t this too cruel even for fellow humans?”

“Who’s calling them fellow humans? These people and I are entirely different species.”

“Haa! Hammerson!”

The elf sighed.

The leader’s name was Hammerson.

He was a human who crossed over from Kurayan.

He was a staunch supremacist, believing that the humans from Earth were no better than beasts.

To put it mildly, the extremity of his radical beliefs even unsettled the elves and dwarves who had come with him.

Then, one of the dwarves approached, speaking.

“Heh! Heh! Well done. Showing mercy to Earth’s humans? Ridiculous.”

“Ugh! Gofray, even you…”

The elf sighed.

Then the dwarf called Gofray chuckled and said.

“Enough with the hypocrisy, pointy-eared one! Stop pretending to be righteous.”

“Gofray.”

“Whether elves, dwarves, or humans, we’re all here to obey Gold Dragon Haeltoon’s orders. Pride and honor have been in the gutter for a long time, so stop being hypocritical and pretending to care about others. It’s truly sickening.”

Gofray’s harsh criticism left the elf tightly shutting her lips.

That’s when it happened.

“Heheh! So that’s how it went. This damn snake set it all up.”

A voice that should never have been heard echoed.

It was Dyoden’s voice.

He had been unconscious just moments ago, but now, he sat up, observing them.

Beside him sat Zeon.

Hammerson involuntarily wore a bewildered expression.

“How? The Hydra’s Tears keep you unconscious for at least three days.”

“Was it some beast’s tears that were mixed with the vodka? No wonder it felt off. Heheh!”

Dyoden revealed his white fangs.

Suddenly his eyes were sparkling with madness.

Looking at that scene, Zeon sighed slightly.

He could foresee the impending carnage.

But regardless, he was just as angry.

From the start he didn’t believe that a person approaching from the middle of the desert would have good intentions.

His life story was too rough for him to easily trust people.

The same was true for Dyoden.

One thing they had in common was that they never trust others easily. Could they simply trust a stranger offering food and drink? That was improbable.

Dyoden used mana to incinerate all the alcohol in his stomach, while Zeon pretended to chew the deer meat, spitting it into the subspace, and only pretended to be unconscious.

It was to understand their intentions.

Hence, when Beloff led them to the canyon he called the Valley of Death, they stayed silent.

Zeon said, looking at Hammerson.

“Are all the humans who crossed over from Kurayan as ignorant and shameless as you? Who’s responsible for Earth becoming like this?”

“Shut up!”

“You shut up! It’s been a while since I’ve been so pissed off. I don’t know where you’ve been hiding, but the humans here aren’t so insignificant that someone like you can mess with them carelessly.”

The more he spoke, the more enraged he became.

Sure, he could comprehend why the elves and dwarves treated humans poorly, since they were a different species.

But Hammerson was a human.

Even if he was from another dimension or world, it was irritating to see him act as if he were an entirely different species.

He wanted to kill Hammerson with his own hands more than anyone else.

Then, Dyoden stood up.

“It seems Haeltoon isn’t far. Sending all these bugs at once. huh? Heheh!”

He extended his hand into the air, then Kreion, which he had left in the warehouse, flew out and landed in his hand.

A terrifying energy was flowing out like a thread from Kreion, which was combined with Akaruk’s sword.

“I will cut down all of you and turn you into fertilizer for the desert. Then, maybe a miracle will happen and a single blade of grass will sprout in this place.”

[TL/N: next chapter is going to be a massecar ahahaha, maybe Damian will join them after and guide them…]

[Translator – Peptobismol]