Chapter 80

On an endless expanse of pure white, various-sized protrusions line up.

To describe the Wasteland of Broken Winds in one word, such an expression would fit.

The ground, covered in fine white sand, is dry and solid.

Each time the wind blows, the sand that rises comes from the white rocks that stand up like they are leaping out of the earth.

Gradually eroded by the relentless gusts, the white rocks are carved into peculiar shapes.

Rocks, sand, and wind.

Because there is nothing else, this land is called a wasteland.

At the boundary where the wind weakens, a few carriages are arranged in a semicircle, serving as a windbreak.

Inside the circle, wooden boxes are stacked as a makeshift table, with empty barrels serving as chairs around it.

Sitting there are men of various heights and attire.

Furthermore, they have wrapped their faces with cloth to keep out the sand, making their expressions and even their facial features indistinct.

What can be discerned is that they are all owners of well-toned bodies, visible even through their clothing.

Another thing they all share is the black adventurer's badge hanging from their necks.

One of them reached out and moved a piece on the table diagonally forward.

Seeing this, the man opposite him let out a dramatic groan.

Another man, who had been peering over, clapped his hands in admiration.

This game, which uses the twelve servants of the Creator God as pieces and involves capturing each other, is called "Pieceboard" and is a fairly well-known pastime in the Central Kingdom.

It seems that the young man, who had been deep in thought, had just made a decisive move.

The cornered player scanned the board for a way out, but it seemed there was none.

The elderly man, sighing and about to give up, found a brilliant move on the edge of the cliff.

It was a move from outside the board.

"Whoa, it was a good game, but that's it for today. The guests have arrived."

"Hey, that's not fair, Garwood."

"You're still as good at running away as ever. Well, can't be helped, it's time for work."

As the man declared, a new carriage entered the station at just the right moment.

It skillfully changed direction and joined the line of windbreaks at the end.

Under the attention of the men at the table, the first to step down was a middle-aged man.

He had a brand new sand-blocking cloth wrapped around his head, a black, thin leather armor, and a red iron armor covering him from the neck to the chest.

His blue-striped mantle fluttered, revealing the scabbard hanging from his sword belt.

He looked like a swordsman, but he was quite lightly equipped.

However, his sharp eyes held a unique ferocity that only the strong are allowed to possess.

"That's the guy who leads the famous group. He has an air of mystery... or something like that."

"Yeah, you can feel it just by looking at him. This is going to be quite promising."

"......Or, is that the mud-digging guy?"

"Really? The one we often ran into in the Goblin Forest?"

"Right, it's been a while. I didn't know he was still active."

Next, a young woman appeared from the carriage.

She grabbed the hand offered by the man and energetically stepped down to the ground.

She wore a loose white robe and a red breastplate to protect her chest.

The tip of the reddish staff she held was adorned with a blue, round crystal.

Her face was partially covered by a cloth, but her large black eyes and straight nose were enough to imagine her beauty.

At the sight of the beautiful young woman, one of the men whistled softly.

"Oh, a cute girl. And she's quite young, too."

"The staff with the rain crystal means she's a water user, right?"

"No, that's just for show. I heard she uses some strange magic technique we've never heard of."

The third person to step down from the carriage was a woman only a fist taller than a girl.

She held a short priest's staff with an ice crystal and had a white cloth elegantly wrapped around her hair and neck.

Her top was a dark chenik with a white breastplate, and her tight pants accentuated her slender legs.

At the sight of her beauty, which is rarely seen, the men swallowed their saliva in unison.

"......Wow. Even with the breastplate, you can tell how big they are."

"A gray-eared adventurer is rare. But she's too beautiful. With her, you'd be too distracted to go on any adventure."

"Besides, she already has a black steel rank. Where did she come from?"

The last to appear was a young child.

With only his eyes exposed, he jumped down from the carriage with a white cloth wrapped around his face.

He did a forward roll and stood up easily.

He wore a red cape, short sleeves, and shorts. His long socks and large boots completed his outfit.

The only armor-like items were the black coverings on his elbows and knees.

"Why is there a kid?!"

"Don't you know? That's the kid who uses lightning. They say he's a genius that comes once in a hundred years."

"Is that true? And there are only four of them?"

"No one with a shield. And no healer. Could that kid be the healer?"

"Lightning users are usually decoys, but... I doubt it."

"So, what do we do?"

The man who called out to the group, who were freely appraising the newcomers, was the one called Garwood.

His face, which had a beard, exuded authority, but he was probably in his mid-thirties.

He had a short horn on his forehead, and his sturdy, muscular body was encased in white hard copper full armor.

In response to Garwood's words, the four C-rank adventurers exchanged glances and nodded in unison.

Although they were unconventional, given that they had made it this far, their strength should be several times that of an average party.

"......All of you. That's great, Tora."

"It's been a while, Garwood. I didn't know you were still an adventurer."

"Same to you. I was worried you had already retired and gotten old."

The two men, who grinned at each other, firmly bumped their fists.

Garwood, a tea-horned man, was the first adventurer Tora had guided through the Goblin Forest.

They were close friends, being only four years apart, but as Garwood's rank rose, their time together decreased, and they had been out of touch for a long time.

"So, what do you mean by 'popular'?"

"That's about who will take on the job of guiding you."

"Oh, a guide. That's a relief."

A guide is a unique system in the Wasteland of Broken Winds, officially recognized by the Adventurer's Bureau.

This barren wasteland, where D-rank adventurers are allowed to challenge, is unexpectedly vast. If you venture in without direction, you are unlikely to survive.

Tora and his party's new goal in this harsh land was to find a dungeon that appears deep in the wasteland.

Called the Orc Rock Fort, this dungeon is generated at certain intervals among the scattered rock formations and canyons in the vast wasteland.

It is a remote area that takes more than a day to reach, and it is not easily found.

In fact, many adventurers who had become accustomed to the mild environment of the Blood Flowing River could not withstand the sudden changes in this land and dropped out.

To assist in the exploration of unfamiliar territory, the system of guides, led by C-rank adventurers, was conceived.

Even the deputy director, Sakkou, could not abolish this practice due to the high attrition rate in this land.

A guide is assigned to one party.

Their role is to lead the party to a safe area and inform them of troublesome entities, but they do not participate in combat.

In the most dangerous situations, they may offer help, but the exploration will be halted.

Parties that repeatedly fall into such crises will not be assigned a guide.

This is because the reward for guiding is not worth it.

The goal of C-rank adventurers is to conquer the Orc Rock Fort, and there is no use for parties that cannot reach it.

Conversely, if the party they accompany successfully discovers the dungeon, the guiding adventurer is given the right to challenge it first.

Therefore, guides vie to take on promising parties.

"I'd like to say you have a choice, but it's hard to choose when you're suddenly asked."

"That's true. In that case, we'd want a guide for the guides."

"Haha, that's interesting. If everyone wants to, there's actually a decision. To avoid any hard feelings, I'll choose the one who fits best."

"That's true. I trust your choice."

The most difficult part of combat with monsters is said to be the retreat.

If you scatter without thinking, there is a risk of secondary damage.

On the other hand, if you try to minimize damage, you might miss the chance to escape and risk a total wipeout.

In this regard, Garwood, the tea-horned shield user, was known for his skill in retreats.

He could hold out until the last moment without making a wrong choice, and he never lost a single companion, earning him the nickname "Garwood the Escape Artist."

The confident shield user nodded and scanned the table with a suggestive attitude.

Then, with his arms crossed, he sharply called out a name.

"Hey, Saralisa. It's time to work."

The one who responded to the call was not one of the men in front of him.

The side door of the middle carriage in the line opened, and someone appeared.

Straight black hair reaching her shoulder blades.

Slightly drooping black eyes with a hint of blue and a nose that pointed upward.

The woman who appeared was a blue-scaled woman, with blue scales on her neck and jaw.

The beautiful woman, who quickly wrapped her face with a sand-blocking cloth, approached Tora with a harp in hand.

Swinging the pleats on her blue coat, she greeted him gracefully.

"Although I have only a year of experience as a guide, I am a rather skilled performer."

"Pleased to meet you, Tora."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Saralisa."

Tora, who felt a strong sense of déjà vu from her voice and appearance, couldn't help but ask the question that came to mind.

"Is she...?"

When Garwood first guided him, he was not alone.

Behind the young man with the shield, a blue-scaled girl who looked exactly like Saralisa was standing.

Her name was Cerce.

She was an excellent water user and continued to form a party with Garwood, eventually becoming his lifelong partner when she reached E-rank.

He was sure they had a child.

"Yeah, this is Cerce's sister. They look a lot alike."

"I'm surprised. How is your wife, by the way?"

At Tora's casual words, the smile on Garwood's lips faded, and his gaze shifted slightly.

The man, who then stepped forward a few paces, quietly gazed at the white plain through the gap between the carriages.

Garwood, with his back still turned, calmly and mercilessly stated the facts.

"Cerce went missing in this wasteland three years ago. I've been searching for her, but I haven't found her yet."