The three of them quickly ran out of the Ancient City ruins, but the buzzing still followed behind them, forcing them to pick up their pace and flee forward.
Only after the buzzing behind them vanished did they collapse onto the sand, gasping for air.
At last, they had survived.
But of the dozen or so people they had started with, only three remained. One was the guide Duomaiti, while the other two were Expedition Team members.
The three looked at one another, miserable and desolate. None of them had the heart to speak. There was only silence and grief.
After resting for a while and regaining some composure, the three began discussing how they could return.
Not return to the ruins, but return to the town.
There was no way they could go back to the Ancient City ruins. Going back would be courting death.
It was still the dark night. Fortunately, a crescent moon hung in the sky, casting a faint glow.
So, after discussing it again, the three prepared to find their bearings and head back toward the town.
Though they had fled in panic and without regard for direction, they had the moon overhead as a reference, as well as the positions of some stars. More importantly, Duomaiti had decades of experience surviving in the desert. With that experience, he could roughly determine the direction they needed to travel.
Thus, the three decided to return to town this way.
Traveling under the cover of the dark night was still better than walking across the desert beneath the blazing daytime sun.
However, the desert's temperature swings were immense. The temperature had now become extremely cold, leaving the leader and the other man shivering. During their earlier rest, they had taken off their warm clothing. Everything had happened