Two months passed quietly. At dusk in the desert, Bloodfang, who had been starved down to skin and bones with sunken eye sockets, suddenly pounced and seized the desert lizard that was preparing to flee, then impatiently stuffed it into his mouth.
After swallowing it, he finally felt somewhat better.
"How much longer until we get there?"
With their food and fresh water nearly exhausted, even speaking was a waste of strength and moisture.
But Bloodfang really could not hold it in any longer.
As soon as he asked the question, the Jackalmans' pairs of eyes quickly turned toward them.
The undead officer, however, remained completely calm.
"We should have arrived by now, but your movement efficiency is too low."
"..."
That really left the Jackalmans completely speechless.
Who the hell could compare with this fellow, who neither ate nor drank nor slept?!
But in truth, the Jackalmans' movement efficiency was not low.
They were naturally capable of adapting to desert environments. With that as a prerequisite, while the Jackalmans rested, the undead officer also recovered his Undead Energy, so their actual progress had not been delayed by much.
After traveling with them this whole way, even the undead officer had to admit that the Jackalmans' vitality was astonishingly tenacious. He had originally thought quite a few of them would die along the way.
But the reality was that although all sixty-nine Jackalmans had been starved down to skin and bones, looking as though they might die at any moment, not a single one of them had actually died.
They had eaten insects and lizards, gnawed on cacti, and somehow endured two whole months in the desert.
At first, some of the Jackalmans had grumbled incessantly and even begun to voice their doubts. Later, in order to conserve their strength