Desert Threats

Tales carried his pack on his back and dragged his barely recovered body along behind the caravan's camels, panting with every step.

Although the sand beneath his feet was still difficult to cross, although the skin wrapped in burlap remained damp and stifling, and although the vicious sun showed no mercy, the boy's heart had grown much calmer.

There was no other reason.

"I'm telling you, Kanze, I'm really telling you," the Rookie Mercenary, Kuaishang, walked beside the camel in front, excitedly talking to the burly Northlander from Dant's Greatsword, Kanze:

"What I'm talking about is a guaranteed profit... Just think about how dangerous our work is! We practically tie our lives to our belts. Even when we're taking a piss, we have to watch the frequency of our shaking, worried we might rattle our heads right off. Maybe one day we'll run into someone really tough and not make it back. Then won't your wife and daughters cry themselves to death, and end up destitute and miserable..."

"Fuck you, Kuaishang." Kanze, already impatient, carried a two-handed greatsword and stepped over a broken stone. He shot the incessantly chattering Kuaishang a disgusted look. "Didn't your mother teach you not to curse other people?"

Tales raised his head and looked at the camel caravan winding away in a line, at the merchants talking with one another at the front and rear, and at the Mercenaries riding around in the distance. The corners of his mouth lifted unconsciously.

Compared with suffering through the desert alone, without hope, in something resembling solitary imprisonment...

Being able to see signs of human life, encounter crowds, and hear their cheerful or dispirited conversations with one another...

It was wonderful.

Kuaishang shook his head frantically.

"I was just giving an example... But think about it. If you