"Just drink, we have enough supply to last us 2 months. Seriously, how did someone like you even reach Fergo?"

"..."

'I died and magically appeared in front of Fergo's gates,' was what Vayne wanted to say to his… cart mate.

He didn't have any energy to talk, however, as he felt his lips chafing even with just the tiniest of movements. And that wasn't the only thing that was dried, Vayne's bright auburn hair feels like it would be enough to fry an egg on it due to the scalding rays of the sun.

They were in the region of the Dark Continent called Halbarn— which translates to the 'Boiling Field' in one of the local languages. 

Halbarn, however, was not even the hottest charted region inside the Dark Continent; there is said to be a land where their lakes were magma— just another proof that the Dark Continent was a… magical place.

Still, for someone like Vayne who was used to a colder climate, Halbarn might as well be hell.

How a region like this existed could only be explained by magic. Vayne, however, has a theory— he always thought there were shards of glass littering the skies of Halbarn, causing the rays of the sun to be amplified… which is ultimately still magic.

Vayne wanted to look up if there were any signs of glass above them; But alas, any movement seemed to sap the life out of him.

Lucky for him, the caravan had extra covers and sunglasses to spare; if not, then he would probably be a grilled human right about now.

"..." And so, Vayne just moved the one thing he could, his eyes. He looked at the armored escort that was guarding the 2 carriages— and none of them had any shade even despite their full armor which should be boiling right now.

Even their horses didn't show any signs of discomfort.

No doubt, some sort of magic was cast on them, similar to the barrier that surrounded Fergo to keep them comfortable.

If Vayne was right, based on their formations… they were knights.

Is the woman inside the carriage some sort of nobility, then? Perhaps even royalty?

If so, then that's good for them, Vayne thought as he let out another sigh and took a sip of water from his jug.

With them here, the caravan should be safe from any harm. Vayne wanted to see some action to get a chance to use his Blessing, but this is good too.

"..." They have been traveling for hours in this red desert, and yet not a single beast has shown itself.

It made sense, the monsters should either be asleep right now somewhere underground— no wonder the caravan chose to leave when the sun was at its highest.

If Vayne heard it right, then Derek, the caravan manager, is an Explorer with a decent amount of Fame. All the other coachmen were the same; no doubt they were some kind of Explorer guild.

Vayne always had a grandiose opinion of the Explorers since they were the most sought profession in the Safe Lands… but they just look like everybody else.

Vayne once again let out a breath as he tucked himself inside the covers even more. The heat was making his head even fuzzier… perhaps it was okay to rest?

And so, with that thought, Vayne closed his eyes; surrendering to the fatigue that clouded his mind.

With these kinds of people escorting and guarding the caravan…

…there was nothing to worry about.

"..."

"..."

"Protect Mistress Alisa!"

"Derek is dead! We're on our own!"

"..." 

Vayne was expecting to wake up feeling completely fresh with a clear mind. But alas, the ache that was previously just in his head was now surrounding his entire body.

He slowly opened his eyes, only to see the boy sitting beside him lying on the ground.

No, both of them were lying on the ground— the only difference was that Vayne was lying face first… and he still had the rest of his body— the boy only had his head, neck, and some parts of his shoulders left.

…Vayne didn't even know his name.

"Kh…" Vayne struggled to lift himself as he sat up. Come to think of it, this was the first time he was seeing a dead person.

…So why?

Why doesn't he feel anything? He read that most people puke at their first sight of gore and death.

But him? He… just feels uninvolved.

"..." Vayne then started looking around, only to see the cart they were riding on now shattered into pieces; at least that might be the cart. It was hard to discern since all the carts seemed to have been destroyed.

He then looked up at the sky, the blistering sun, at the very least, was no longer present.

"Protect Mistress Alisa!"

Vayne then finally turned his attention to the voices he heard as he woke up, only to see the knights fighting against… something.

There was previously a dozen of them… now there are just two.

"..." Vayne slightly squinted his still slightly cloudy eyes to get a better sense of what they were fighting against, and there, he finally saw.

Skin, as dark as the night itself; but seemingly covered in chalk that held the color of the Halbarn deserts.

They were almost as tall and wide as two men; their muscles, seemingly exploding with each movement.

"...Urucs," Vayne whispered. Orcs that were native in Halbarn; their explosive muscles were a result of digging through the soft red ground of the region— and judging by the red chalk still firmly attached to their skin…

…they have probably been waiting or even following the caravan.

Just what— !!!

And before he could continue his thoughts, Vayne's eyes turned wide as an almost moaning whistle whispered into his ear; and once again, everything around him turned slow.

Vayne turned around to see what was creating that whistle, only to see an axe— no, perhaps it looked more akin to a hoe if anything. But it didn't matter, whatever it was, it was only an inch away from hitting his head.

Vayne took in a small but very deep breath; and as soon as he felt a pain slashing on his cheek, he quickly pushed himself back; his body, rolling several times on the soft ground as everything once again moved at a normal speed.

The uruc seemed to have been surprised by this, as Vayne could hear it screeching and talking in its native language… all while violently pointing his axe at him.

"...Hm," Vayne looked the uruc straight in the eyes as he stood up; their eyes, reflecting each other almost as if creating a silent promise to kill each other.

And so, with a breath…

…Vayne ran away.

He slightly limped as he made his way to where he would be safest— the two remaining knights that were still desperately trying to protect their liege.

"You, you're from the caravan!? You're still alive!?" One of the knights that were fending off two urucs at once quickly noticed him approaching, 

"Grab a weapon, help us!"

"...Weapon?" Vayne blinked a couple of times, "What weapon!?"

"Just loot from the dead bodies!"

Vayne then quickly looked around, finally noticing the corpses that were sprawled and littered on the ground; the dead urucs, clearly outnumbering the people of the caravan.

"...Tch," Vayne could really only grit his teeth as he picked up the first weapon he could get his hands on.

"I said grab a weapon!" The knight screamed.

"This is the closest weapon I managed to purloin!" Vayne also roared as he raised… a shield that was almost half the size of his body.

"That…

…that's not a fucking weapon!"