Chapter 37

Chapter 37
A period of two weeks and three days had elapsed since Alon’s departure from Teria, the capital city of the Kingdom of Asteria.

He was now making his way across the southern desert, an unavoidable stretch of land one must traverse to arrive at Colony.

“Phew—”

Alon looked up at the blazing sun, feeling as though each inhalation and exhalation was scorching his lungs.

“It’s disgustingly hot.”

Hearing Evan’s comment as he stared vacantly at the sky, Alon managed a slow nod of agreement.

Even the finest carriage could not keep the intense heat at bay.

“If I just had an Ice Crystal Stone—”

Evan was mourning the absence of an artifact so costly that buying one required the price of multiple estates.

His tongue lolled out in a canine-like manner, a comical sight, but Alon found no humor in it.

The desert was, to be honest, unbearably hot.

‘I could have been there by now… if I had pushed just a bit harder…’

A quiet sigh escaped him as these thoughts passed through Alon’s mind.

In truth, Alon had reached the desert’s border just a little over a week after setting out for Colony.

Had he entered the desert straight away, he would have already arrived at his destination.

But Alon had lingered for two specific reasons.

The first was a short detour to a neighboring territory to acquire a present for the Seolrang in Colony.

‘Even if this is our first meeting and they offer no assistance, I should still bring a gift.’

Consequently, instead of having already reached Colony, Alon was now journeying under the oppressive desert sun.

Looking back, the time spent didn’t matter, as the distance across the desert remained unchanged.

But feeling the intense heat, Alon couldn’t help but feel a sense of injustice.

“Phew—”

How long had it been since these irrational thoughts had started to surface?

“We’ll make camp here!”

Just as the fierce sun began to dip and transform into a sunset, Alon heard a call from outside and exited the carriage.

He saw a line of dozens of wagons on the darkening ground, each with a small lantern hanging from it.

This was the second reason for Alon’s delayed progress.

“I’ve been looking at this for five days now, but the more I see it, the safer I feel.”

At Evan’s observation, Alon nodded.

He had joined a caravan to cross the desert.

He understood all too well that attempting to cross such an expansive desert alone was a foolish idea.

“By the way, Count.”

As they watched the merchants begin to set up camp under the caravan leader’s direction, Evan spoke.

“What is it?”

“Aren’t you going to practice your magic?”

Though he tried to sound casual, a thread of expectation was evident in Evan’s expression.

Alon, momentarily confused, soon understood what Evan was hinting at and answered.

“I intend to, but it will be a different kind of magic from what I’ve been working on until now.”

“Ah.”

Evan looked somewhat let down, but Alon had no plans to accommodate him.

After months of study, he had perfected his current spells to a point where further practice was unnecessary.

“…Couldn’t you do it just one time?”

“No.”

“Ugh…”

Evan let out a regretful sigh at Alon’s decisive refusal.

But his disappointment was brief.

“Whoa, that’s just… completely smooth. You’d think it was an insect.”

As the sun finally vanished and the air grew cold, Alon lit a campfire and turned to see what Evan was looking at.

Evan was watching five individuals.

One was a man dressed in rather expensive clothing, and another was a woman with vibrant red hair that seemed to embody fire.

Behind them stood mercenaries, each holding their weapons.

‘The caravan leader and the mage from the Red Tower. I see them every single day.’

Alon was very familiar with them.

In fact, it was impossible not to be.

The man fawning over the red-haired mage and her guards was the leader of the ‘Golden-Haired Caravan,’ and the mage had recently been seeking out conflicts with Alon at every turn.

“Look at him, bringing food every day without fail. Does he have no self-respect?”

Evan shook his head, watching the caravan leader diligently wring his hands and present fine wine and food once again.

However, both Evan and Alon understood the caravan leader’s motivation for being so obsequious toward the mage.

From his perspective, being on good terms with a mage from the Magic Tower was a significant advantage, particularly since this mage was the Red Tower Master’s daughter.

Though she had not yet become a Vice Tower Master, she had already reached the 4th rank at the young age of twenty-three.

In the world of commerce, where networks were as crucial as profit, it was logical for the caravan leader to treat her with the highest regard.

While Alon himself was in a position that naturally attracted influential contacts, it appeared the caravan leader, unaware of Alon’s recent ascent as a faction leader, had chosen not to invest effort in building a relationship with him.

More accurately, the caravan leader had probably wished to befriend both parties, but due to the mage’s ongoing dispute with Alon, had decided to concentrate his efforts solely on her.

As Alon idly observed the caravan leader bowing, he soon became aware that the mage had noticed his gaze.

“Hmph. What are you staring at?”

The sharp-eyed woman, Liyan Aguileras, quickly approached to initiate a confrontation.

“My eyes just landed there by chance.”

“Do you get pleasure from watching people?”

Liyan began to taunt him without reserve, her tone dripping with disdain.

“That’s not a habit of mine.”

“Is that so? My error. I assumed someone who enthusiastically circulates gossip might also enjoy snooping.”

Despite Alon’s measured reply, Liyan persisted in her provocations. He released a sigh.

‘How exhausting.’

Alon wasn’t completely certain why she constantly sought to argue with him.

He could, however, surmise a few reasons, one of which involved the circulating stories.

News had spread, mainly among the mages of the Blue Tower and Caliban, that Alon had been instrumental in confronting external dangers using magic.

Although Alon had never spoken a word about it, Liyan appeared convinced that he was the source of the rumors.

Another reason for her hostility was:

“I’ve told you multiple times, I did not spread those rumors.”

“You’re as slippery as those from the Blue Tower.”

It seemed Liyan harbored a profound animosity toward the Blue Tower.

Behind his neutral expression, Alon suppressed a laugh.

Even if Alon appeared suspect to her, picking fights so openly was not exactly rational behavior, even in this world.

But Alon simply endured her taunts because they felt too juvenile to provoke a real response from him.

That, however, was only a partial explanation.

The true reason he tolerated her was her standing.

Unlike Penia, Liyan held no official role within the Red Tower.

However, being the Red Tower Master’s daughter was a far more daunting title than any formal position.

Although the Red Tower Master had met a dramatic end after recklessly charging at one of the Five Great Sins who destroyed the Red Tower, he was not a minor figure, even in the game.

Put another way, the Red Tower Master’s fiery nature had driven him to embrace death itself.

More simply, he was regarded as a madman.

Seeing the quality of the mercenaries surrounding Liyan, despite her not being exceptionally powerful for a 4th rank mage, it was clear how much her father prized her.

‘Well, it’s not as if I’ll be seeing her again after we cross the desert.’

Alon resolved to ignore her provocations for the time being.

“Hmph…”

Noting that Alon was only half-paying attention, Liyan frowned and spun around sharply, returning to her carriage.

Alon shook his head as he watched her depart.

***

The following day.

Rad, the leader of the Golden-Haired Caravan, which traveled through all kingdoms except the Empire, where a convoy of over thirty wagons was not permitted, smiled under the beating sun.

Sweat streamed from his large frame, evidence of his body’s struggle with the heat, but his face showed clear satisfaction.

And he had good cause—he now had an opportunity to forge a connection with the daughter of the Red Tower Master.

If all proceeded smoothly, he might even secure a contract to supply goods regularly to the Red Tower in the city they were approaching.

Thus, despite the oppressive temperature, Rad was in high spirits.

‘It would have been good to establish a link with the noble as well…’

Rad glanced back with a touch of remorse.

The carriage of Count Palatio, who was journeying with the caravan, was positioned at the rear, but Rad didn’t seem overly concerned, aside from that slight regret.

Rad, a seasoned veteran of the trade routes, knew perfectly well that one cannot chase two hares at once.

Moreover, he didn’t find it excessively disappointing to miss befriending Alon, as the rumors about his magical skill seemed inflated for a mage of the 3rd rank.

Liyan had repeatedly assured Rad that Alon’s magical power did not live up to the gossip, so letting that connection go was not a great loss.

Naturally, had Rad been more current with recent information, things might have been different.

Regrettably, he only knew that Alon had some association with one of Caliban’s Master Knights.

In any case, Rad continued his journey through the sweltering heat, fairly satisfied with his situation.

“Everyone, prepare to fight!”

At the sudden yell from a mercenary at the caravan’s front, Rad frowned.

If the mercenaries were calling for battle in the middle of the desert, there was only one likely explanation.

‘Tsk, bandits…’

Rad sighed, thinking of the outlaws who preyed on caravans in this vast desert, but his face showed no fear.

And why would it? The Golden-Haired Caravan had dozens of mercenaries hired by Rad, plus over ten B-ranked mercenaries assigned to protect the Red Tower Master’s daughter.

In other words, Rad was sure that no ordinary bandit group could pose a threat to the caravan.

However, the moment he saw the enormous flag in the distance, Rad’s face drained of color and his eyes widened in dread.

The banner approaching through the dust cloud was one no merchant ever wanted to encounter.

‘Blood Sand…’

The name of the notorious bandit clan came to Rad’s mind, and terror swiftly filled his expression.

Even from afar, it was obvious there were dozens of them, and each Blood Sand bandit was reputed to be as formidable as a knight.

Swoosh!

Before Rad could finish his thought, one of the lead bandits swung a chain sickle toward a mercenary, ending his life instantly.

And with that, the conflict began.

Or rather, it was a slaughter.

The bandits, who clearly had no interest in negotiation, butchered the mercenaries guarding the wagons in a matter of moments.

Just like that—

“Incredible, isn’t it?”

In under two minutes, most of the mercenaries had been slain by the Blood Sand bandits, and a man stepped forward.

Wearing an eyepatch and with twin scimitars at his waist, he surveyed the bloody scene with a frigid smile.

“Oh…”

Noticing the mage, Liyan, among the few elite mercenaries still standing, her face a mask of fear and tension, his crooked grin broadened.

“Well, look at this. We’ve struck gold.”

His voice buzzed with exhilaration.

“Who are you?”

Liyan frowned and demanded sharply, but the man simply drew one scimitar from his belt and replied.

“You’ll find out when you come with me.”

He gave a malicious grin and channeled magic into his blade.

As blue energy ignited around the sword like flame, Liyan’s expression darkened.

Despite his relaxed manner, she sensed a profound threat, recognizing the power radiating from his sword was far greater than that of typical knights.

In that instant, she knew there was no escape.

That a fate more terrible than death might await her.

As this horrifying idea entered her mind, past wounds surged through her memory, her body shaking uncontrollably at the mere remembrance.

She could feel the awful memories consuming her sanity, overwhelming her thoughts.

But just as Liyan’s mind was about to shatter—

“-?”

—something snapped her back to awareness.

It was the air.

The frantic breathing brought on by her trauma suddenly stopped.

Slowly, her breath left her mouth, forming a visible cloud.

And in that moment, as the white mist hung in the air, Liyan understood something.

The air, which had been unbearably hot just moments before, was now freezing.

“What…?”

As Liyan stood in shock, she saw that the man’s twisted smirk had also shifted to an expression of bewilderment.

Not only had the once-hot ground turned cold, but a layer of frost was beginning to coat the sand.

And then—

Step.

In the profound silence, the crunch of a footstep sounded.

The bandits turned toward the noise.

The mercenaries, who had been rigid with fear moments before, also looked.

The man, who had been aiming his scimitars at Liyan, shifted his gaze.

And there, where Liyan, who had just been lost to her trauma, now stared—

A man was advancing.

Step.

His pace was neither fast nor slow.

Step.

His face was unreadable, as if the scene held no importance for him.

Step.

The pale energy flowing from his bracelet intertwined with the surrounding chill, and finally, he halted.

At that moment—

“Freeze—”

—Count Palatio uttered a quiet command.