While the column of soldiers trudged across the desert with grim determination, the sight of their mages was far worse.
The n in robes looked more like corpses than living n, their hollow eyes sunken, skin pale and sweat-soaked.
They staggered forward with trembling hands, yet continued chanting, so are weaving spells of endurance,so for heat protection while others are responsible for movent acceleration. It was these people that pushed the army far beyond its natural limit and cut their travelling ti by almost half.
Normally, the march from that barren wasteland back to Austerra would take three weeks.
Yet, thanks to the tireless support of those skeletal-faced mages, and a few precious long-range teleportation gates, they had crossed the distance in only three days.
At their current pace, they would reach ho tomorrow.
But the Austerra awaiting them was not the one they rembered. After all, they dissapeared when Aurborn was still the king, and the current ruler, Austaire, has been placed with the backing of the empire for her courageous performance during the calamity of Aurelus.
Not to ntion, their invesitgation has cofird the participation of the Soulfang family on assisting the forces of the Dark Fate.
Their exhaustion made the sight all the stranger.
Then, a drunken-looking middle-aged man running across the dunes, arms outstretched as though embracing the blistering sun.
Gleeful, reckless, and utterly out of place in a desert notorious for its dangers.
The knights muttered in disbelief, weapons tightening in their grip. Lone travelers rarely lasted long here.
Then their leader’s gaze caught the figure trailing after the man—another stranger. His brow furrowed in suspicion.
"Carlos!? I did not expect to see you here!" Betthon, founding father of the Soulfang family, called out.
His voice, though hoarse from long travel, carried sharp authority.
"I thought the desert worms had swallowed you the night you vanished."
Ugha—now disguised as Carlos—let out a booming laugh.
"I did get into so trouble with the worms, aye, but what can I say? I’m a lucky bastard."
Betthon’s eyes narrowed further, sliding toward Auren. "And who’s that?" He pointed with casual disdain.
Ugha waved dismissively. "Ah, him? My new recruit from Maalah Kingdom. He’s an extrely talented herbalist, supplies with potions to keep alive on long journeys across the desert. Couldn’t have crossed the sands without him."
"I see," Betthon muttered, though his gaze lingered. He leaned slightly forward in his saddle, studying Auren with a sneer and reading the fake divine fra above his head.
"He reminds of a certain herbalist back in Austerra. Cocky bastard thought he could change the world with his foul-tasting potions. Where did it get him? Probably, rotting in a cell now."
Hahaha!
Serves him right!
The nobles around him burst into laughter, cruel and insulting. Even the weary soldiers chuckled to please their masters. Ugha joined their mirth with a hearty guffaw, playing the part well.
And Auren—gritting his teeth, his fists tightening beneath his robes—forced a laugh.
"Haha... it’s true. Herbalist is a hard class indeed."
Inside, however, he burned. The insult was a blade twisting in his gut, but he knew better than to lash out.
Any reckless move here could cost trouble for Robert and Austaire dearly. Though he rembered who held power now—Austaire, the new queen, backed by the Emperor himself.
But for now, he could not risk exposing himself.
Betthon smirked at Auren’s forced humility, then spread his arms wide.
"Why not join us? We could use extra hands. With your potions and his luck, perhaps you’d serve well as part of our support. When we return, I can ensure you a good position back in Austerra. After all—" His chest puffed with pride.
"You’re speaking to Betthon, founding father of the Soulfang family, and great-grandfather to King Auborn of Austerra himself."
The crowd of soldiers straightened as though his na alone was a banner.
Ugha and Auren exchanged the briefest glance.
Beneath their calm masks, both were laughing at the irony.
’Outdated fool.’ Auren grinned.
Betthon, so proud, so utterly unaware of what had unfolded in Austerra while he and other leading noble’s soldiers marched blind through the burning sands trying to get ho.
Ugha dipped his head politely. "We appreciate the offer, but we have urgent business in Phili. Another ti, perhaps."
Betthon frowned but waved a hand.
"As you wish. Still, know you are welco in Austerra. Co find if you ever change your mind. Consider it repaynt—for pointing us back on the right path days ago."
"Thank you, we will surely visit you to pay our respect to the great King Auborn of the legendary Soulfang family..." Ugha said smoothly, bowing as if the words mattered while hiding his mockery in those words.
He then nudged Auren with a grin. "Right, Herbon?"
"Absolutely," Auren replied, smiling so stiffly it could have been carved from stone.
"Good. Then farewell." Betthon barked an order, and the army resud its march, banners swaying, armor clattering like the groan of a tired beast as they passed through the two n.
"See you," Ugha called after them with exaggerated cheer. Auren only watched with cold eyes, his false smile long gone.
One day, he promised silently, gaze fixed on Betthon’s back.
One day, I will end you with my own hands.
Ugha’s hand landed on his shoulder, his deep voice murmuring directly into his mind.
One day. But not yet.
For now, his path lays north.
Toward Thaasa where his quest to et Druka is waiting.
As they walked, sudden shimr rippled before them.
Ugha spread his arms and conjured a swirling portal of red-gold fla. The air distorted with power, the very sand curling away from its edges. He then turned to Auren.
"Here is my final favor, kid."
Auren paused, not sure about his words,
"This portal will take you straight into Kodian territory. From there, the best routes to Thaasa are open. You will also find adventurer guilds which I highly recomnd you apply. Join a company if you can and earn their trust, and travel safely."
Auren gazed at the portal, heart thrumming as he watched the gate to his next adventure.
’I guess this is we part ways then.
He bowed deeply before Ugha.
"Thank you, Lord Ugha. I will never forget your kindness... I will make sure to use the power you have granted to its fullest potential."
"Don’t thank ," Ugha replied with folded arms and a sly smirk.
"Just make sure you’re strong enough when the duel arrives in ten years. I expect nothing less than a worthy fight between you and Roov."
Auren grinned, standing tall. "I will not fail you."
With one final glance back, he waved his farewell, turned and walked into the swirling light. His figure vanished, swallowed by the portal’s golden maw. Ugha watched him enter like a parent watching their son leave for school.
Then silence.
Ugha remained still for a mont, then released a long, weary sigh.
His shoulders slumped as though he had set down a boulder he’d been carrying.
"Huaaaaaah..."
But the quiet was short-lived.
Another portal ripped open behind him, cold and jagged. From it stumbled Bonbon, his small body rid with frost, icicles clinging to his fur. He shook violently, scattering snowflakes into the desert heat.
Ugha’s eyes sharpened. "I expect good news, little brother."
Bonbon’s face was pinched and furious. "Good news?! That bastard nearly killed !"
Ugha’s smirk returned faintly. "Isn’t that what he always does?"
"This was different!" Bonbon squeaked, his tiny voice dripping with outrage.
He puffed up like a prosecutor about to indict a criminal.
"Thugnaka was serious this ti! He tried to eat alive while I complained about his cunning plans! He even declared he would take not only my territory, but yours... and Druka’s as well!"
The desert wind howled around them, carrying the weight of his words.
Ugha’s smile faded. "And Vhalka?"
Bonbon’s ears drooped. His tone darkened.
"That greedy whale has joined him. He probably got an offer from Thugnaka that he can’t refuse. After all, that bastard thinks using his stomach."
THUD!
He stomped his tiny feet in frustration,
"No wonder those warriors of the Dark Fate had abundant supplies of Vhalka shards. Vhalka’s been feeding them willfully!"
Ugha’s jaw tightened, his frown deepening.
"So that’s why those shards were appearing everywhere. If that’s true, then the assault on Austerra was nothing more than a test. To see how far they could push us. To asure our response and maybe, scare the empire and plant chaos on their security."
He looked southward.
The horizon boiled with darkness. Storm clouds, vast and unnatural, spread like ink across the sky, swallowing the desert sun.
"Our youngest are no longer playing," Ugha muttered, his voice low and grim.
"They an to devour us."
Bonbon followed his gaze, his small face set in rare seriousness. "Which ans only one thing, brother."
The clouds churned, lightning cracking in their depths.
"This ans war."
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