Several burly men dragged a wooden cart slowly across the desert.
Raucous laughter, banter, and curses echoed through the air. This ancient language reached Lin Qiye's ears and automatically became Chinese he could understand.
"You think we can pray for how much fine wine today?"
"At least forty kilograms, right? We brought back too little last time, and even the City Lord was unhappy."
"Wasn't that because Old Seven secretly drank several kilograms on the way? Otherwise, we wouldn't have had only twenty kilograms left by the time we got back."
"Old Six, Old Six? Say something. You're always as quiet as a stuffed gourd. How are we supposed to make Lord Dionysus happy later?"
"Ah, forget it, forget it. He's been like this since he was little. The rest of us should just shout louder and put in more effort today."
"..."
As he followed them out of the city and into the eastern desert, the confusion in Lin Qiye's heart deepened.
Dionysus?
What was that?
After walking for roughly half an hour, the group of burly men finally stopped before a dried-up oasis.
They set down the wooden cart behind them and gathered around an empty depression. They piled nearby branches together, and one of the men crouched beside the pile and vigorously rubbed up a fire.
"Get ready, everyone. This time, use the new dance we choreographed last night!"
The other men spread out to different corners as if facing a formidable enemy. They stared intently at the pitch-black cave in the center of the depression and answered solemnly.
"Understood!"
Sizzle—!
The man drilling for fire successfully lit the pile of branches. A wisp of flame rose from the edge of the depression, and thin green smoke drifted into the sky.
The instant the flame appeared, the