Chapter 121
Chapter 121
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 121
Chapter Title: The Lord's Son and the Desert King
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The group approaching Arsen's party numbered fourteen in total.
Their attire was uniquely suited to desert dwellers.
The hoofed mounts they rode had humps like camels, but these were positioned along their flanks rather than on their backs, and their heads resembled those of desert foxes.
The riders were wrapped in white cloth garments much like Arsen and the others, but unlike them, they wore no metal armor beneath.
It was clear they had prioritized enduring the heat over defense.
One among them was a knight, but surprisingly, the leader of the group was not.
Stepping forward as their representative was a small figure draped in white cloth. When he pulled back his hood, the face of a young boy appeared.
"Pleased to meet you, foreigners. I am Blasset, son of the great Urta, ruler of these lands."
The boy, who looked to be in his mid-teens, introduced himself with a deliberately solemn tone.
It didn't seem like mere child's play—the knight and soldiers behind him had serious expressions—so Arsen bowed politely in response.
"Likewise. I'm Arsen from the eastern Belluan Estate. How should I address the one before me?"
"Just call me Blasset!"
With those words, the boy flashed a cheerful grin.
The leader of the group that had approached them, this young boy, was—as he himself revealed—the estate lord's son, specifically the twelfth child.
The boy took a great interest in Arsen, or more precisely, after seeing the magic beast they'd captured, the scorpion lion. He learned that Arsen was the one who had felled it, and in a single blow no less.
"You must possess incredible prowess! Even the knights of our estate hesitate to face this beast alone."
"I got lucky."
Blasset exclaimed with excitement, but Arsen merely smiled as if it were nothing.
That only seemed to impress the boy even more.
In contrast, the other Galraio soldiers were marveling at the relic Vazkal was cradling, the one they called an air conditioner.
For people who had lived their lives in this scorching desert, encountering such coolness in the midday heat was far from commonplace.
"Man, this thing's chilly."
"You selling it by any chance, sir knight?"
"That's up to the boss, but I doubt it."
As Vazkal chatted with the soldiers, someone called out to Arsen.
"All cut up, Captain!"
Rino approached, holding the scorpion lion's head and tail.
According to Blasset, the mane and the venom at the tail's tip held considerable value.
Thanks to that, the head—now shorn of its mane—had lost much of its majesty, but it was still sufficient proof.
Arsen took the head and extended it toward Blasset once more.
From the moment he'd mentioned its usefulness, the boy had eyed it so eagerly that Arsen figured it would make a perfect bribe.
Seeing this, the boy asked with an expression of感動.
"You're really giving this to me as a gift?"
"Sure, why not."
Blasset seemed genuinely moved by the offer of the scorpion lion's head, which apparently carried significant meaning here in Galraio.
Arsen paused to reflect on his past experiences, but back in Belluan, no one had ever wanted to decorate with a magic beast's severed head like a knife tail's. Just a cultural difference, perhaps.
*Hard to wrap my head around.*
Of course, Arsen wasn't giving it away for free.
In exchange, he had asked them to serve as guides for his party—to the estate.
"We'll be in your care for the guidance."
"Don't worry! We're all born and raised in this desert!"
The boy spoke with full confidence.
True to his word, after receiving the gift, traveling with the Galraio folk made the journey far easier for Arsen's group.
First, they were a huge help in navigation.
Normally, Arsen's party relied on the stars for direction.
During the day, they confirmed their bearings using rocks or mountains, referencing the positions noted at night, and marched accordingly.
But in this sea of sand, where there were no landmarks, that method was unreliable.
Traveling with locals who could read the dunes or the wind for direction proved invaluable.
Second, they carried ample water and knew well the substitutes for it.
Arsen was startled to learn that the roots of certain withered, cactus-like plants held large quantities of water.
"Seems the lord here has quite a few children," Arsen ventured, broaching what could be a sensitive topic about the estate's internals.
Blasset gave a faint smile in response.
"Fifteen in total. I'm pretty much the youngest among them."
"I see."
"Yeah. One of my brothers or sisters will become the next lord, of course. I'm not giving up either... that's part of why I set out this time."
"Oh?"
Blasset explained that he had set out on a journey to awaken as a knight.
He boasted proudly.
"We sometimes venture beyond the estate, but usually, we train by roaming this desert."
Surprisingly, succession here went to whichever of the lord's children awakened as a knight.
It was possible only because there were so many with lordly blood.
This was a far cry from Belluan, where those with such blood were too precious to risk venturing out.
No, it was unique even compared to the other estates they'd visited.
"Several of my older brothers and sisters up top died without awakening as knights. Five of them."
"Fascinating."
Was it simply a product of the environment, or something more?
As Arsen pondered this, Blasset suddenly whipped his gaze around.
"Oh, looks like the king of the desert is coming out!"
Arsen turned at the words, but his senses picked up nothing.
And his senses were sharp enough to have detected the scorpion lion about to burst from underground.
"The king of the desert?"
"Yeah. It's terrifying no matter how many times you see it—take a look!"
Following his lead, they halted for a moment.
They gazed to the right, where the desert stretched flat without a single dune.
After about a minute, Vazkal grumbled.
"Nothing there."
At that instant, as if in response to his voice, the ground began to rumble.
A deep, resounding roar—ururung.
Even the trained mounts whinnied uneasily at the low, thick vibration.
Then, the earth itself rose.
"Ah."
Someone gasped. Arsen realized moments later it had come from his own mouth.
The others let out exclamations of their own, each unique.
The earth rising was no exaggeration. A colossal creature, hundreds of meters long—perhaps far more—burst through the ground.
Sand dust billowed like clouds, shrouding the world.
"Good lord..."
Once the dust settled, its form fully revealed itself.
Broad as a tray side to side, its body covered in dark brown scales evoked a manta ray—save for being in the desert rather than the sea. Few other differences stood out.
Its movement, however, differed from a ray's.
Dozens of short legs protruded from beneath its vast body, propelling it along like a centipede.
Short, that is, relative to the beast—each leg spanned several meters.
*Can something like that even exist on land?*
Even in a fantasy world, its sheer size defied physics, sending a shiver through Arsen.
Pleased by their awe, Blasset spoke from beside him with a touch of smugness.
"Some worship it as a god. I think that's ridiculous—it's just a massive magic beast, as far as I'm concerned."
The desert king kicked up enormous clouds of sand with every movement, just as when it first emerged.
The volume was so immense it resembled a sandstorm.
Then, Marun asked Anun beside him.
"Think we could take that thing?"
"Not a chance for me. His Excellency wouldn't send us against something like that anyway. Fights are with mountains or moons, not this."
Anun dodged the question with a quip. Arsen agreed wholeheartedly.
They had battled the lord of an enormous mountain range, but this desert king was on another level entirely.
Its size was so overwhelming it seemed less a creature and more a force of nature, evoking awe over battle lust.
Soon after, as it lumbered under the sunlight, the desert king slipped back into the sand like a diver.
In the eerie silence that followed, Blasset eyed Arsen expectantly.
"What did you think? Your impressions of seeing the desert king?"
"...Incredible. Truly."
Satisfied with Arsen's expression, Blasset grinned.
"That was just a brief stroll this time, but sometimes it flies through the sky! I called worshipping it as a god silly earlier, but you can't help feeling reverence when you see that."
The words reminded Arsen of a tale from a merchant back in Belluan—a massive flying magic beast. Perhaps that was this desert king.
Marun's intel hadn't mentioned it, so the merchant must have heard it separately.
He hadn't specified the desert, after all.
"It doesn't attack people, right?"
"No. If something like that assaulted the estate... even with great miracles, we couldn't fend it off. It's risky if paths cross, but it's not that fast, so you can sidestep it! Never hit a settlement or fortress."
Their awe at the desert king lasted only a moment before the monotonous march resumed.
They still had a long way to go.
Walk they did, and walked some more.
How long had passed when night finally fell?
Like all deserts, it shifted brutally from scorching days to savagely cold nights.
That night, the guides benefited from Arsen's party.
Unlike heat, cold could be countered with warming spells.
With a few mages' help, the effect covered a tent housing dozens, leaving the desert folk amazed at spending the night comfortably warm.
After several days and nights like this, the desert finally ended.
More precisely, it gave way to normal land at the border of the purified zone.
A red barrier encircled the human habitation within.
Seeing it, Blasset raised both hands in welcome.
"Welcome to our estate, guests!"
* * *
Unlike Eden Estate, Arsen's party was treated as esteemed guests here.
Partly because the lord's son had brought them, partly due to the scorpion lion head Arsen had claimed, and the seal from Opion Fortress's lord helped too.
Arsen, representing them with two knights, met the lord at his residence and earned guest status.
They had permission to move freely within the estate, so long as no more than ten gathered near the lord's residence.
Their lodging was a grand mansion on the estate's western outskirts, owned by none other than Opion Fortress lord's master.
The mansion's owner regarded Arsen's group.
"Welcome to my home, outsiders. You've heard my name, I trust."
"Yes, pleased to meet you, Lady Hetia."
The owner was an elderly female knight with snow-white hair cropped short from the neck down. Sixty, perhaps seventy.
Unlike her wrinkled face, her tall frame boasted broad shoulders and a straight back rivaling any youth.
She was the previous lord's sister and a close relative of the Blasset they'd met.
"It's a humble abode, but rest easy. My disciples visit often, so plenty of rooms."
Of course, it was arrogance masked as humility.
Her home was a true mansion, larger even than the inns in the ruined city.
Three stories tall, with over twenty servants and retainers.
Its scale alone hinted at her immense contributions as a knight in her youth.
This world was unkind to the unproductive elderly; a knight past their prime received such honors only through great deeds.
"Come in, then. I'll have it prepared."
"Our thanks for your hospitality."
Hetia's mansion sat on the outskirts and hosted guests often, leaving ample empty rooms.
Ideal for Arsen's party.
While soldiers and mages bunked in a large hall, knights got private quarters.
And now, Arsen dined with the old knight.
"Hope the food suits you. No idea what foreigners eat."
"It's delicious, thank you. Especially this..."
"Desert berry."
"Right. The desert berry's tang really wakes the palate."
"Kind words. One of our estate's prides. I like it myself."
Hetia chuckled lightly.
"That aside, glad to hear Karam is well. The best of my disciples, talent aside."
She delivered the barb with a gentle tone.
Unsure whether to agree or contradict, Arsen stayed silent.
He'd never seen Karam—the Opion lord—as a knight in action, after all.
But he could tell this old knight had been formidable in her prime.
Her potent mana and well-honed physique at her age spoke volumes; she couldn't have been weak back then.
"So, what's your business here?"
"Just passing through on the way west. Nothing specific we're seeking."
Arsen avoided stating their goal plainly.
Local intel said the ruins were unknown to natives. Revealing their intent to excavate would draw opposition.
To them, it would be thieves digging up treasures from their own backyard. And they'd be right, in a way.
Hetia downed a glass of fruit wine and spoke flatly.
"Is that so? Here I thought you were ruin raiders."