Chương 52: Into the Badlands

Two days had passed since we left Aegus. The journey east had been surprisingly peaceful, yet my body still ached with every bump of the carriage. My arms remained locked in their quicklime casts, throbbing dully but slowly healing with time. The Blue Lotus treatment in itself had been brutal, but I could already feel my skin regenerating becoming tighter, stronger, almost new. Still, the constant pain reminded me how close I had come to losing everything again and needing to control the fire better....

just how though those thoughts lingered on. During the long rides across golden plains and rolling hills, Galer and I talked more than we ever had.

"You really are an idiot sometimes," Galer said on the second night, staring at the campfire.

"Taunting a man like monster like that while half-naked… I still can't believe you did that and pulled it off." I laughed weakly, leaning back against the carriage wheel.

"It worked, didn't it? He completely forgot about the Princess and the Hawks. Sometimes what you call stupidity, I call recklessness is the best strategy." Galer shook his head, but a small smile crept onto his face.

"You could have died. We both could have. Next time when facing such adversary… we think first. We're not invincible here." I looked down at my useless arms.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just… didn't want to lose anyone else." A comfortable silence fell between us. The stars above were bright and countless. For the first time in a while, I felt something close to peace. Galer eventually spoke again, softer this time.

"Thank you… for dragging the Princess to safety. And for buying them time in that cave. They and I won't forget it." I nodded, smiling faintly.

"Mutual, remember?"

On the morning of the third day, we finally arrived at Isama. The city rose proudly along the great River Iteru, its grand angular buildings gleaming under the warm sun. Towering white stone columns and massive obelisks covered in intricate carvings lined the streets. The heart of the city pulsed with life of the 190, 000 citizens and 39, 000 disciplined soldiers maintaining strict order in place. The ride across the enormous bridge over the River Iteru was breathtaking.

The water sparkled below us like liquid sapphire, the heart of the entire nation flowing strong and eternal. Iskatot immediately went to handle the paperwork for crossing into the Badlands, the Nomad Region beyond. We would have to wait for permission. The sun felt perfect, 22 degrees with a gentle, golden shine that warmed the skin without burning. While I remained in the carriage, still recovering, I kept staring at the Zwing-Uring on my lap. The strange inscriptions seemed to whisper to me.

Despite the Herzog's warning, a powerful curiosity almost a longing pulled at me to keep watch over the Item. I want to try it on … just once. Galer returned after two hours with new armor for both of us. My new armor was a sleek yet intimidating fusion of mercenary practicality and knightly presence. The chest plate, pauldrons, and gauntlets were crafted from layered ironcoal with a deep metallic dark grey finish that seemed to absorb light.

Subtle red accents ran along the edges and joints, perfectly matching my wild dark red hair and fiery nature. For head protection, I now wore a modified Provocateur-style helmet sharp, elegant, with a raised face protector that could be lifted when needed. Angular cheek guards and a reinforced crest gave it a menacing silhouette. My right arm was protected by a reinforced vambrace that carefully hid the shameful "H" branding beneath, while my left arm featured lighter, articulated plating for better axe mobility.

Strong greaves and sabatons completed the set, allowing both powerful strides and agile battlefield movement. Overall, the armor gave me the silhouette of a rising dark fire knight which was dangerous, mobile, and ready for war. Galer's armor had been upgraded into a refined and highly functional knight-mercenary hybrid that perfectly reflected his experience and precision.

It was crafted from lightweight yet exceptionally strong dark silver-grey ironcoal plates with subtle blue-silver accents along the edges and joints. The chest plate was sleek and form-fitting, offering excellent protection without sacrificing mobility. Layered shoulder pauldrons provided balanced defense for his fast sword and knife work. His forearms were protected by articulated vambraces designed for quick draws, with several reinforced straps holding his satchels in place.

His legs were guarded by dark reinforced pants with light metal plating on the knees, paired with boots built for swift footwork. A high-quality dark cloak with a faint light-blue inner lining subtly hinting at his light attribute draped over everything. He also kept his signature dark eye patch over his missing left eye. The overall look was well-maintained, professional, and sharp the appearance of a veteran warrior who valued both precision and lethality.

The upgrades had cost us a good amount of osmium of 32 in total (11 for mine, 21 for his), but money was fortunately not an issue for us right now. Galer stood beside me, wiping sweat from his brow as we both are putting on the new gear.

"Feeling any better?" he asked.

"A little," I replied, flexing my fingers slightly inside the cast.

"Still hurts like hell… but I can feel the Lotus working. Give it a few more days and I'll be swinging my weapon again." Just as we finished adjusting our new gear, Iskatot returned with the proper documents in hand. We both looked every bit the reliable warriors now we seen on our Journey.

"Permission granted," he said with a nod.

"We can cross into the Badlands." Without delay, we climbed back into the carriage. The two Cavamello snorted and began pulling us forward once more. Right after passing through the exit gate, the guards gave us a serious warning:"The Beduions are highly active right now. Avoid the merchant route... take the outpost line instead. It's under Nabatea Nomad control. They usually don't attack the outposts, so it should be safer." Once outside the city walls, the biome changed dramatically.

We entered xeric shrublands a dry, sandy expanse that felt like true desert. Everywhere we looked, massive Desert Thorn bushes grew three times larger than those few that grew outside of Isama. Their thick, gnarled branches twisted like skeletal fingers reaching out from the sand, covered in long, dagger-like thorns that gleamed wickedly under the sun. Every step or turn of the carriage wheels required careful navigation. We were now in the Beduion Lands territory of a powerful, ruthless nomadic raider tribe.

They had no permanent settlements, making their bases nearly impossible to locate. After eleven kilometers, the path split like we´ve been told. One road led toward Dodasch, the largest port city on the Mare Nostrum and the closest city to Jeruem. However, it was currently under heavy raid by the Beduions. Because of that and my still-recovering condition we took the right path, hoping to avoid conflict with the Nabatea as we got suggested to do so.

Iskatot, ever mysterious and composed, guided the carriage with calm expertise. His specialized desert armor was perfectly suited for this harsh environment: lightweight layered ironcoal and reinforced leather in sandy beige, terracotta, and dark bronze tones that blended with the surroundings. A long flowing sand cloak with a hood protected him from the sun and sandstorms, while his face was covered by a protective ironcoal veil. He looked every bit the seasoned guardian of desert routes.

As we ventured deeper, the weather shifted. The sky grew cloudy, yet no rain fell only an oppressive, dry tension hung in the air for us to feel of on. Eventually, we reached a hilly area where the once-clear cobblestone route had completely vanished beneath deep layers of drifting sand. The path we had been following was gone... swallowed by the ever-shifting Badlands. Iskatot pulled on the reins and paused, scanning the horizon with narrowed eyes. After a tense moment, he made his decision.

"We'll take the left hillside route," he said calmly, steering the two Cavamello upward. The carriage tilted noticeably as we began climbing the sandy slope. My heart beat faster. Every creak of the wheels and shift of sand beneath us made me uneasy. My arms still throbbed painfully in their casts, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I currently was. I gripped the edge of the carriage with my fingertips, trying to steady myself with the current situation being so hell-bend on hurting me.

The deeper we went, the more the landscape changed. The air grew drier, hotter, and heavier with unspoken danger. After a long and exhausting climb up the shifting sandy hillside, we finally reached the edge of a dense thorny branch forest. The sight was both beautiful and menacing at first viewing. Massive Desert Thorns grew so thick and intertwined that they formed natural walls, tunnels, and corridors of razor-sharp needles.

Some of the ancient bushes towered over four meters high, their thick, gnarled branches twisting like the skeletal fingers of long-dead giants clawing their way out of the sand. Long, dagger-like thorns some as long as short swords gleamed wickedly under the filtered sunlight, each one sharp enough to slice through leather or flesh with the slightest touch. The air inside the forest was hotter, drier, and carried a faint metallic scent, as if the thorns themselves had tasted blood before.

Narrow pathways wound between the thorn walls, barely wide enough for a single person to pass without risk. Every breeze caused the branches to sway slightly, producing an eerie, whispering sound as thousands of needles brushed against one another. Small gaps in the canopy above allowed thin beams of sunlight to pierce through, creating shifting patterns of light and shadow on the sandy ground.

Occasional bleached animal bones lay scattered near the base of the thickest bushes, silent warnings of what happened to anything careless enough to wander too close. The entire forest felt alive… and hostile. It was the perfect place for an ambush. But I needed to relieve myself badly. I told Iskatot to stop the carriage for a moment and carefully stepped into the thorny shrub, trying to find a private spot. That was when I felt cold steel pressed firmly against my back.

A mysterious sun-beloved boy roughly two years younger than me had appeared completely silently from within the thorns. He held a finger to his lips, eyes sharp and warning me to stay quiet. I wanted to shout and warn Galer and Iskatot, but more boys emerged silently from the surrounding shrubs all of them armed, all of them watching me with practiced, predatory focus. With my arms still trapped in heavy casts, I slowly raised my hands in surrender and followed them deeper into the thorny maze.

As we walked, I studied the weapon the lead boy carried. It was unlike anything I had seen before. I looked at him with probing eyes and asked quietly, "What is that sword?" The boy answered with quiet pride, though his voice stayed low: "It's a Silver-Leaf Saif." He angled the blade so I could see it better. The sword was perfectly straight and remarkably thin in cross-section, making it incredibly light and capable of lightning-fast, whipping strikes.

Yet the blade was wide from edge to edge, tapering into a very sharp, leaf-like point. The edge was honed to an almost supernatural sharpness perfect for slicing through silk or leather armor with ease. The metal itself had a flowing, watery pattern, clearly forged from high-quality mercury steel. The hilt featured a slender blackened ironcoal crossguard and a long grip wrapped in cavamello leather for excellent hold in this harsh biome. A simple almond-shaped pommel provided perfect balance.

The weapon itself looked elegant… and extremely deadly in skilled hands. After a tense, silent walk through the dense thorny shrub, we finally emerged into a hidden clearing. Before us lay a well-concealed Nomad Base with dozens of low sand-colored tents, watch posts, and armed figures moving about with disciplined efficiency. The question now burned in my mind as my heart pounded: Which tribe is this…?