Being a righteous knight on a white horse with a kind gaze?
I think everyone who knows me would agree that’s not who I am.
Valor was a trait that deliberately avoided me, so I wasn’t about to go chasing after it.
Understanding that any search for leads about other settlements could take days of pointless wandering, I turned back to the bandits.
Sure, the tracker skills sounded useful in theory.
But knowing the history and characters of this world, I could use my transmigrator knowledge if I really needed to find someone.
I sat the bandits on my boat and, under threat of throwing them overboard at a hundred kilometers an hour, ordered them to point the way to the town with the florist shop.
“The boat’s flying like we’re in a sandstorm.”
“This must be some kind of trick, right?”
The criminals whimpered, pressing themselves into the deck.
The tornado propelled us just like that windy day, making the boat bounce and spend long seconds in free fall before the runners hit sand again.
The grains only seemed that fast because of the wind we created ourselves.
My inspiration for this technique was the sandstorm itself.
Sitting in my caves, I couldn’t stop thinking about that amplifying factor that pushed every sandbender’s abilities, including mine, to their limits.
Spending weeks pondering this question, I arrived at an obvious conclusion: wind.
It lifted tons of sand, allowing you to command the entire environment.
With strong wind, accelerating particles was much easier.
“Hey, Anubis… is it true my ancestors learned from benders of other nations?” Standing in a perfectly smooth granite chamber, spinning a storm of sand in the middle of the cave, a question popped into my head.
Silence answered.
“It’s just that if that’s true, maybe sandbender movements can be enhanced by proper techniques from other schools?
I’d give anything for a windbending scroll to see if I’m thinking in the right direction.
I’d trade anything to understand their culture!”
“…”
“Yeah, when I really need to make a choice or learn something important, you’re quiet as a mouse.”
“I left you the gift of choice.
Not every path in your life is determined by a divine leash.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.
If I want to learn history, I shouldn’t ask you.
I’ll figure it out myself once I get out.
And now…
how would a windbender move to accelerate sand?”
“Choose:”
1: Create a storm and maintain it for a week without stopping (Easier to understand the principle of accelerating sand grains).
2: Push back a hundred opponents with air currents (You’ll learn the subtleties of tornado techniques).
3: Adapt a movement technique.
Wind bending is based on evasion—try to replicate it (New movements can help you emulate the vanished benders).
“…Your choices are unbearable.”
Within a few dozen minutes, our speeding boat stopped within the limits of a settlement that hadn’t changed at all.
Two years had passed, but time seemed frozen here.
Same lifeless eyes, same dozen unremarkable houses.
The bandits who’d escorted me waved innocently, acting like their work was done and trying to slip away.
But the sand wrapping around their legs thought otherwise.
Their strained faces turned to me with resentment.
“Let us go!
We did everything you asked!”
“Not everything…
I’ll be back soon.” The shrinking tornado carried the boat through the settlement.
To the dozens of stares directed at me, I returned the same look if anything, more chilling.
Every person here could be responsible for what happened to me.
But the prime suspect was the florist shop owner.
I stopped in front of his store, jumped off the boat, and walked inside.
Nothing had changed…
except the seller.
Behind the counter, surrounded by living, vibrant flowers, sat a middle-aged woman with the same tired look as the previous merchant.
She wore cheap clothes, her loose outfit marking her as a sandbender.
Spotting me at the entrance with a grim expression, she tensed immediately.
“What do you want?” she said bluntly, as if she was the custom here, sizing me up.
I seemed strange to her.
Unlike the usual bandages and white robes, I was dressed in black like some kind of tourist.
But I wrapped myself as securely as only the locals could.
“Where’s the man who traded here two years ago?” My direct question confused her.
“Two years?
Oh, you mean Kaldir.
He was killed.” She shrugged nonchalantly, holding my gaze.
“They say it was some guy he tried to make a slave.
Honestly, I don’t care who did it or why.
Just don’t bother me.
She raised a threatening finger, surrounding herself with a thin stream of sand.
As always, the desert hadn’t changed.
But about the killer’s identity…
it was obviously Tassad.
He’d figured it out himself and taken revenge first.
But my heart felt heavy.
I remembered the system saying that killing the merchant would ruin my relationship with my father.
He wasn’t the type to kill easily.
He must have been hit hard by my loss.
Dropping my gaze, I walked toward the exit.
“…Thanks for the information.
Sorry to bother you.”
“Uh…
no problem.”
The door creaked open, and I returned to the boat.
The bandits were still struggling to break free, but they quieted down at the sight of me.
I sat thoughtfully on the runner, wondering what to do next.
Anubis wasn’t trembling over my possible death good thing he didn’t always listen to me so I could go anywhere.
Leave the desert entirely.
Or wander around here to tie up loose ends.
There was one interesting place that could help uncover not only my ancestors’ history but also teach me useful things.
Unfortunately, no map in the world marked it.
So first…
I’d visit Tassad.
“You bastards.” Turning to the noisy bandits pounding their fists against their solid shackles, I got their full attention.
“Which direction is Misty Oasis?”
Home, sweet home.
Despite everything, the journey through the desert wasn’t as suffocating or long as I’d expected.
A few hours of travel brought me to my native settlement.
At the entrance, the same weathered sign was about to fall off.
Nearby, kids played with scorpions.
In the center sat the settlement’s landmark a block of ice.
Though its size had noticeably shrunk over time.
The residents still acted tough and drilled me with their stares.
I looked like a tourist surveying a strange place.
Except I was doing it out of nostalgia.
Now the settlement seemed several times smaller than in my childhood.
The laps I used to run along the fence could now be done in under a minute.
The tall houses couldn’t compare to the giant columns of the buzzard-wasp hive.
“…I wonder, Tassad must have opened a woodworking shop by now.
Where is it?
Or should I check the bar first?
Mother’s probably been blaming him for what happened to me.” The thought of deadly battles on the wasp hive’s last floor scared me less than this upcoming meeting.
Approaching the bar, ignoring the dozens of evaluating stares, I walked inside.
In the stuffy room, as usual, sat plenty of bounty hunters, bandits, and tourists from other places.
It might seem strange that people from the green continent ended up here, but no two reasons were the same.
Each case was different.
But my mother, who usually cleaned the place and served drinks, wasn’t there.
Another woman was working instead.
“Of course…
what an idiot.
Why would she keep working for pennies when woodworking could support the whole family?” I ordered a fruit cocktail in an ice cup and got the most delicious drink I’d ever had.
I leaned against the bar and studied the bartender.
“Hey, do you know where the wood merchant is around here?”
“Wood?
There’s no such place here.” The bartender answered rudely, wiping ice bowls.
Eyeing me like some freak, he just walked away to chat with another customer, occasionally glancing at my frozen face.
“Hey, kid, how about buying us a round?” While I was lost in thought, a group surrounded me.
Typical scene in this place a dozen people ganging up on one to scam him out of money.
But the moment I turned to face them, slightly lowering my sand mask, a few of them opened their eyes wide.
“Dagot?”
“No way.”
The others turned to the speakers.
Realizing I was someone’s acquaintance, the bandits sighed in disappointment and dispersed.
But the two who recognized me froze, carefully lowered their masks…
Ba’el and Hamri.
“Dude, is that really you?”
“How did you survive?”
Rubbing their eyes to make sure I wasn’t a mirage, they broke into grins and rushed in for a hug.
New, expensive-looking swords bounced on their belts.
I couldn’t say mine looked any better.
On the contrary, my mood had been dropping since I arrived.
“…Why are you two running with a group like that?
Where’d you get money for such fancy gear?”
“Uh…”
They glanced at each other and shrugged.
“Look,” they exchanged looks again.
“Your dad fired us.”
“…”
“After what happened…
Tassad packed up and moved to the green continent with his wife.
Said he could make more money outside the desert with his sandbending.”
“He didn’t need workers for that kind of business.
So we ended up here, and he opened something elsewhere.”
They wore sad but understanding smiles.
There was no blame in their voices just disappointment at how things turned out.
“Of course, first we all searched for you together.
We found out some bastard had hired bandits to take you alive, but…
we couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“Dude, I can’t believe it.
Where have you been all this time?”
So Father decided to start a calmer life.
I didn’t know why he hadn’t done it sooner, but I could guess what finally pushed him.
I should just be happy the people who raised me got a shot at a better future.
I turned and walked out silently.
“Hey, Dagot, let’s grab a drink!”
“I’m dying to know where you’ve been.”
Stepping outside and reaching the boat, I gave the guys a gloomy look.
“Choose:
1: Agree (Your relationship becomes friendly.
You can join the gang).
2: Invite them to join your journey (You decided you need followers, but only reliable ones).
3: Be rude (Your relationship is severed).
I clenched my fists.
I don’t know how Anubis saw it, but for me, there was only one choice.
Not even up for debate.
“I don’t know how your lives turned out, but I can’t believe you became bandits.
You disgust me.” Their faces froze.
Looking at their expensive gear, their smug expressions, I raised my hand, freed the silent prisoners who’d been escorting my boat, and tossed them at the guys’ feet.
“I don’t want to dirty my hands on scum like this.”
Jumping onto the boat, I got ready to leave.
Just wandering the desert in search of something no one had seen didn’t require much brain or skill.
Remembering the villages’ locations, I prepared to fly as far away as possible.
“How were we supposed to live?!” Hamri’s voice was full of frustration.
“Bro, it’s not worth it.”
“Stay out of this, Ba’el.
I’m talking to Dagot!
Answer me!
How are two ordinary guys supposed to survive after working for your father our whole lives, supporting him in everything, then being dropped with empty pockets?!”
“…How much blood is on your hands?” Looking down at them from above, I raised my chin.
Both clenched their fists in frustration.
“What business is it of yours?
The strongest survive!
We’re in the desert!
We’re making ten times more than we ever did working for your old man.
You think we regret anything?
Come down and look at this expensive sword!”
“Hamri, he’s a bender…”
“Who disappeared for two years!
Instead of blaming us, maybe think about how this all started with you.
Wandering back like nothing happened!
Couldn’t have come earlier?
Hey, where are you going?!”
My boat started moving.
The growing tornado carried me away from this cursed place.
“And you don’t owe us anything?!
Idiot…”