Chapter 28: Schedule

This is what true tranquility feels like.

The scorching sun and the relentless wind. The sound of Kusil's hooves was muffled and scattered by the sand. Ian looked at the horizon, where the heat haze rose, feeling an inexplicable sense of peace.

“Ugh...”

Occasionally, Beric’s nearly dying voice could be heard, but no one paid any attention. In the great desert, those who were to die must hurry to do so, while those who were to live must do whatever it takes to survive.

Ian handed over the half-empty water bottle and asked,

“Are you okay?”

“I feel like I’m going to die...”

“Will you die from this?”

“Well, not exactly...”

They had only been in the desert for a day since crossing the border. The variable was Beric’s heat resistance. His red hair, which seemed to have absorbed the heat, hung limp and wet. Suga, who had been leading, came up from behind.

“If you’re going to die, I’ll let you off here. I feel sorry for your Kusil.”

Suga’s taunt only made Beric frown. This was a lawless area beyond the border, and Suga was a member of the Chilrye tribe. Damn it, the person he followed was a ‘peace offering.’ Still, wouldn’t it be okay to give him the middle finger? Beric pondered this while panting and grumbled.

“Hold on.”

Hee-!

The wind changed direction. The guide, who had been leading, stopped, and the procession halted. The guide waved a dry branch and read the wind.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s a sandstorm. It’s moving faster than expected.”

“How close is it?”

“We’ll meet it in a couple of hours.”

The leaders, including the tribal chief, gathered and looked up at the sky. Unfortunately, it was daytime, so the stars were not visible.

“We’ll set up tents for a while.”

This meant the meeting would take longer. At Kakanter’s command, a large shade was spread, and everyone gave their Kusils water and rested. Ian did the same. After taking care of his Kusil, he gave water to Beric.

“Bringing you as a guard is really something.”

“You didn’t say it would be this hot.”

“I didn’t expect you to be unfamiliar with the desert.”

“I know the desert! I do! Damn it. Give me more water.”

Ian handed the water bottle to Beric and rummaged through a small bag. The map of the great desert and a list of climate predictions given by his teacher were neatly folded inside.

‘How far have we come?’

He marked the map each time the route changed. They had come far enough. Despite Beric’s complaints, the Chilrye tribe urged their Kusils on quickly. It seemed they were concerned about Chief Winchen’s health.

“...Sandstorm.”

Ian pointed to the map with his finger. The storm path A12 overlapped where they stood. Since they had set out yesterday, the time error was within four hours, as the guide had predicted.

“What are you looking at so intently?”

“Suga, you’re not even sweating.”

Suga laughed, munching on dried dates.

“I was born in the heat and grew up facing the sand.”

“Right. How long will the break last?”

“About ten minutes. Start packing up soon.”

She seemed pleased that he didn’t argue about her being a warrior. She handed him a couple of dates and turned away.

“Attention! We’ll leave in five minutes. We need to move quickly to avoid the storm!”

“Which way should we fix the Kusils’ heads?”

“East.”

“Yes, understood.”

Following the chief’s instructions, everyone fixed their Kusils’ heads to the right. Amid the chaos, only two people remained still: Ian and Beric. Beric was half-collapsed.

“Is there a problem?”

“Did you say east?”

“Yes.”

“...Not south?”

The unexpected question made the tribe members stop and look at Ian. What was this guy saying?

The guide was the protector of the tribe’s safety, inheriting the wisdom of the ancestors. When it came to the desert, even the chief would initially agree with him.

“What’s he saying?”

“He’s talking nonsense, having just stepped on the desert sand.”

“Leave him alone. Isn’t that a nobleman’s trait?”

“Ahaha! Indeed! A great one from the Empire!”

Because they were speaking in their own language, Ian could only guess the nuances of their conversation after the first sentence. The chief also seemed annoyed. He wouldn’t kill him immediately, but if he caused trouble, he might follow the procedure of Derga’s older brother.

The chief approached.

“Why did you mention south?”

The center of the Chilrye tribe, Chilrye, was located to the north. Going south would mean going back, which would take more time and effort. So, he was curious about the reason.

“There was a desert researcher at the mansion. According to the information he gave me, a storm is coming from the northeast at this time. It seems to be large, so it’s best to avoid it. Since we can’t go back the way we came, I suggested going south.”

They had crossed a massive sand dune yesterday. The slope was so steep that two Kusils rolled down by mistake.

“Chief?”

In the urgent situation, the chief only stared at Ian. Urged by the tribe, he extended his hand.

“Show me that information.”

“Here it is.”

The chief’s unexpectedly compliant attitude surprised him. If he had any ulterior motives, Ian planned to discard it. The chief looked at the paper and called Nersarn.

“Nersarn, interpret it.”

It was written in Barial script. Kakanter, Nersarn, and the guide gathered and discussed. It seemed they had something to deliberate.

“What’s going on?”

Ian whispered to Suga, who was nearby. She glanced at the tribe and quietly replied.

“The storm was definitely coming from the north. But one of the Kusils that rolled yesterday belonged to the guide. The branch was damaged, so his energy might have been blurred.”

The world of the gypsies is truly mysterious. How could they predict the weather with a simple stick? Ian wanted to interrupt and ask but nodded patiently.

‘Going south would be safe but arduous. In contrast, going east would be a shorter detour. Whether we’ll meet the storm or not is uncertain.’

The urgency of Chief Winchen’s condition, the injuries of two Kusils, the piled-up trade goods, and the unfamiliarity of the outsider. As a chief, he made the most efficient choice. Without knowing that the east was also in the storm’s path.

“Alright. Let’s do it that way.”

After a long discussion, they reached a conclusion. Kakanter looked around for suitable people.

“Jangyarong, Tan, Turum! You three will go east and head to Chilrye first. Inform them that the schedule will be delayed due to the storm, and if there’s any news about the chief, come back.”

The three strongest in the group. They could advance through the sandstorm.

They immediately gathered the minimum essentials and mounted their Kusils. In fact, the remaining people could have withstood the storm, but they couldn’t be sure about the Kusils and the goods on their backs.

“Move at a wide angle. Don’t pass the eternal cactus or the praying rock. The storm is fierce inside.”

“Yes, understood.”

“We’ll go first!”

“We’ll see you in Chilrye!”

Hee-!

There was no time for a proper farewell. They quickly spurred their Kusils and galloped away, disappearing in an instant.

“So, we...”

The chief looked at Ian and folded the map demonstratively, putting it in a case.

“We’ll go south.”

“South, move!”

Everyone adjusted their Kusils’ heads. Ian pulled Beric up by his collar, and the chief helped him onto the Kusil.

“Who is it?”

“The one who made the map? My teacher.”

Kakanter was expressionless, but he was genuinely impressed by the difference in technology and knowledge. They had created the map by exploring the desert on foot. Some oases were discovered just a few years ago, yet the map marked them with a “85% probability of existence.”

“Conserve water.”

He glanced at Beric’s sweat-soaked face and advised. With the journey extended, water would be scarce.

“Yes, Chief.”

Ian nodded, thinking he should now infuse magic instead of water.

The wind started again, but this time it was low and short.

* * *

“Huh?”

A few days passed.

As they became accustomed to the desert’s daytime heat and nighttime cold, the guide, who rarely spoke, broke the silence.

This signaled Kakanter, and then Nersarn, to look up, and soon the entire group was staring ahead.

“Trees?”

Ian was also surprised.

A green something appeared on the horizon. Immediately, the Chilrye tribe’s horns sounded, and they cheered.

“We’ve arrived! Chilrye!”

“Good job, everyone.”

“Good job! Demosha!”

“Demosha!”

Beric, who had been half-asleep on his Kusil, rubbed his eyes and stood up. His already coppery skin had darkened even more.

“Are we there?”

“Yes.”

As they approached their destination, the sand became harder. The Kus