Chương 38: Debt of the Desert

"Galer, by the way… do you have something to eat?" I asked.

"I didn't ask the kind old man who saved me from the heat." Galer gave a small nod and motioned for me to follow him deeper into the rundown village. The children were busy working on the largest abandoned house and its sandy garden, carefully plucking ripe cacti under the harsh sun. He handed me a thick piece of grilled cactus flesh. I devoured it in one greedy bite. The watery meat carried a faint, sweet aroma of earth and survival. It coated my tongue and brought a rush of simple, heaven-like relief.

I didn't know if it tasted so good because I had gone two days without real food, or because the cactus itself was that delicious. At that moment, I just didn't care. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and looked toward the children.

"They're really working hard… trying to bring this place back to its former glory." Galer nodded, his expression heavy.

"The kids are from here. They were taken after the war… turned into tools for Tharaj's so-called future prosperity." He wasn't wrong. I could already picture their nation growing stronger while this land withered into forgotten ruin. Later, when Galer and I stepped into a quiet, crumbling room away from the others, I spoke softly.

"We can't stay here much longer. The guards will find this place… or worse, the soldiers will, as long we both will be here." Galer's face tightened with clear frustration. He knew I was right and couldn't deny it. Staying here, no matter how much the children needed help, would only bring danger to everyone. I continued, "The old man who helped me… he was different from the rest. More open. Let's ask him to watch over the children while we move on." Galer thought for a moment, then gave a single, firm nod.

We went looking for the old man, but he was once again out on one of his walks. After waiting twenty-six minutes at his small estate, we finally saw him returning down the dusty path. We greeted the old man respectfully. He looked at us with visible confusion, his brow furrowed as he studied me in particular. Clearly he was wondering why I had returned so soon especially after I had been so hesitant and restless the last time and now with another pale outsider at my side.

We explained our situation, the danger the children were in, the soldiers hunting us, and how we could not stay much longer without bringing destruction upon the village. The old man listened in silence, then insisted we first sit as his guests and drink mint tea together. Only after we had finished the warm, soothing cups did he give his answer to our problem. He would watch over the children and protect them with his life… but only if we did something for him in return.

He wanted us to kill a pale white man with a monocle. That man, he said, was the one who had taken his daughter and son-in-law two and a half years ago. They had been loaded into transport cages pulled by two Cavamellos and sent toward the outpost of Muzape. Since that day, there had been no word. The only rumor the old man had heard from other elders was that his family had reached Muzape… and then vanished from there. Galer fell into deep, troubled thought.

The mention of Muzape and the possibility that war had already broken out between Tharaj and Chaddore weighed heavily on him. Jabare's fate was still unknown as well. I, however, did not hesitate. I stepped forward and shook the old man's weathered hand firmly.

"We will do it," I said.

"We will find that man with the monocle, kill him, and uncover what happened to your children.

"Then, with a sheepish smile, I added, "But before all that… could I get another cup of that mint tea? It was so delightful. I haven't tasted anything that good in days." The old man's tear-filled eyes softened with warmth. Without a word, he nodded and shuffled inside his small home. Soon the faint sound of water boiling and the fresh, sharp scent of crushed mint leaves filled the air. A few minutes later he returned carrying two simple clay cups, steam rising gently from them.

We sat together on the worn wooden bench outside. The first sip hit me like a wave of pure relief. The tea was stronger than before richer, more fragrant, with a deep, almost medicinal mint flavor that cut through the dryness in my throat and left a cool, invigorating burn on my tongue. Galer took a cautious sip beside me, then paused, eyes widening slightly in genuine surprise." This is incredible," he muttered, staring down at the cup.

"I've had mint tea in half the towns between here and Monaser. None of them came close to this. It's so strong, yet smooth. Like it was brewed with something more than just leaves.

"The old man gave a small, proud smile, the first real one we had seen from him."It grows wild behind my house, in the shade of the old well. The soil here remembers the old rains. Most people boil it too quickly and kill the soul of it." He watched us drink with quiet satisfaction.

"Drink slowly. It will give you strength for the road ahead.

"We sat in silence for a while, savoring every sip. For the first time in days, the weight on my shoulders felt just a little lighter. Afterward, as we walked back toward the village alongside the old man, the question that had been burning in my mind finally slipped out.

"Why do you walk alone in the sandy desert during such harsh, dry weather?" The old man's steps slowed. A quiet pain filled his voice as he answered." I punish my own inadequacy. I was a soldier… I only suffered a light injury during the invasion. Our kind Reggente allowed me to rest and recover, yet to this day I punish myself for that weakness. Because of my failure, we lost everything. Our nation, our traditions, our future… and our children to them." Galer nodded in solemn understanding, saying nothing.

I, however, stood in silent awe of the old man. Every day he walked into the merciless desert, matching its cruelty with nothing but pure spirit and unbreakable will. He was punishing himself, yes, but he was also proving something far greater. When we reached the village, the old man introduced himself to the frightened children. His calm, easy-going nature and quiet strength quickly eased their fear. The tension in their small shoulders melted away as they began to trust him.

With the children now safely under his care, Galer and I knew it was time for us to handle our end of the deal. We turned back toward Tharajian territory. We soon encountered a patrol of guards still searching for us. With only one good arm and Galer fighting at full strength, we crushed them swiftly. Galer cut down their commander in a ruthless series of strikes, his blades flashing with cold precision. Our shared determination left no room for mercy. We crossed the border into true Tharajian land.

The terrain changed dramatically. The endless sandy desert gave way to a vast, golden savannah that stretched endlessly before us a swaying sea of tall grasses shimmering under the intense sun, whispering softly with every breeze. The landscape unfolded into a classic savannah mosaic of endless open plains and scattered vegetation. Low shrubs dotted the horizon, while occasional acacia bushes with their distinctive flat-topped canopies broke the golden monotony.

The recent rains had transformed the ground into a lush, vibrant carpet of green that felt soft beneath our traversing boots. What truly stole the breath, however, were the solitary titan trees rising dramatically from the grasslands. These ancient giants towered up to eighty meters high, their massive trunks like the masts of colossal ships adrift in an ocean of grass. Their sparse branches formed wide, umbrella-like crowns far above, creating a surreal and almost alien contrast against the low, rolling plains.

It felt as if nature itself had planted living skyscrapers across the savannah. These lone titans offered rare pockets of deep, cool shade where we took brief refuge to rest, their immense presence reminding us just how vast and varied this land could be. After a short break and some quiet planning, still unsure of our exact destination we spotted a large column of at least five thousand Tharajian soldiers marching westward across the plains.

Their formation stretched long and disciplined, clearly heading toward the border to reinforce the war against Chaddore. We pressed on and soon reached a fortified outpost, but the gates were firmly closed to all outsiders. Our hope of gathering information there quickly faded. Instead, we approached a lone merchant who had just left the outpost and was looking for traveling companions on the road to the capital, Taharim.

The merchant described Taharim as a mighty city of fifty-eight thousand souls, home to powerful warriors and strong defenses. He told us the war had erupted only yesterday. Tharaj had reacted with shocking speed because no envoy had come from Chaddore. Without warning or declaration, Chaddorian forces had launched a sudden attack across the border for reasons no one seemed to understand.

Smaller nations were already choosing sides or preparing to join what the merchant bitterly called "the fight against the giant vile scum." Galer and I kept our opinions to ourselves, careful not to reveal which side we truly supported. In the end, we learned our target lay one hundred twenty-one kilometers ahead: the outpost of Muzape, a city of thirty thousand. Beyond it stood the larger outpost of Magezup with thirty-five thousand people.

We thanked the merchant, paid him a few coins for his company and information, and parted ways. Our excuse was simple we claimed a friend of ours worked as a mercenary in Muzape and we needed to find him. With our goal now clearly marked, we marched onward. The savannah continued to unfold around us like an endless golden ocean.

My left arm still throbbed painfully inside its makeshift splint, a constant reminder of the desperate punch I had thrown back in the mine and the terrifying overload that had nearly killed me on the cliff. The charcoal-grey shadowy armor with its faint silver sheen remained quiet beneath my skin. I had vowed not to call upon that power again unless a battle left me no other choice. My fire attribute... my Heart Flame still felt blocked and weakened, yet it simmered steadily enough to keep me moving forward.

Galer walked at my side, his single visible eye scanning the horizon with the calm vigilance I had come to trust. The reunion in the rotten village had lifted a heavy weight from both of us, but new burdens had already taken its place. The old man Adurhol's tearful request burned in my mind. A white man with a monocle had taken his daughter and son-in-law two and a half years ago, loading them into transport cages pulled by two Cavamellos and sending them toward Muzape.

He had most likely sold them as slaves, so we had to squeeze the information out of him. We still had no word on Jabare Magkosi either. The tall Chaddorian former champion with his distinctive hairstyle and earth-sand powers might already be clashing with Tharaj forces somewhere along the border. We moved carefully through the tall grass, using the massive solitary trees for shade whenever the sun grew too fierce.

Their trunks rose like ancient pillars from the golden sea, their wide umbrella-like crowns high above offering rare pockets of cool relief. In one such shade we rested briefly, sharing the last of the grilled cacti the children had prepared. The sweet, watery flesh still carried the faint taste of earth and survival, coating my tongue with simple comfort. Having already tasted it back in the village, eating proper food again made me very happy. The encounter with the Tharaj guards came sooner than expected.

With still having only one good arm I could not fight at full strength, but Galer's light attribute flared with precise, deadly efficiency. He moved like flowing radiance, cutting down their commander in a series of swift, merciless strikes that left no room for alarm or reinforcements. I supported him as best I could, my sword-axe flashing in my right hand while my broken left arm hung heavy and useless at my side. The brief clash ended quickly, our shared determination plain to see.

We dragged the bodies deep into the tall grass to hide them, then pressed onward, crossing fully into Tharajian outpost territory. As we marched, the humongous trees continued to rise like lonely giants from the grasslands, their massive trunks casting long shadows across our path. My body ached from the lingering effects of heat stroke, the broken arm, and the endless run through the desert, but the fire in my blood refused to let me rest easy. My thoughts kept drifting back to the children.

I could still see their hollow eyes, the bruises covering their small bodies, and the way they had been broken down like tools in those dark mines. They had suffered so much... whipped, starved, and forced to work until they could barely stand. The image of that young boy chained and gagged, and the girl's tear-streaked face on that table, burned in my mind. I hoped the old man could give them back some light.

He seemed strong enough in spirit to keep them hopeful, to remind them that not every adult in this world wanted to use or hurt them. That small hope for the children gave me strength as we marched closer to our goal. Galer's steady presence at my side reminded me I was no longer alone in this fight. We had a debt to repay in blood. The savannah whispered around us, the tall grasses swaying like a living sea.

Somewhere ahead, war brewed between Tharaj and Chaddore, and we walked straight into its heart with nothing but our resolve and the promise we had made. That night we took shelter beneath one of the mighty trees, its vast crown watching over us like a silent guardian. We rested as best we could, eagerly waiting for the next day.