"Tang's journal"—
[September 21, Lost Era 1001. Great Desert. Clear skies.
The seventh day of our westward journey.
Sometimes, it really isn't that I want to question things. But after seven days traveling through the Great Desert, I honestly haven't seen what's so dangerous about it.
Granted, the crimson sky looks like the warning lights in Great Wall Prison, as though constantly reminding us not to let our guard down.
But when any of us, Yiwu included, watch where we step, it isn't to guard against some monster lurking beneath the sea of sand.
It's to find a grub. Yes, even one the size of a little finger would do.
I feel like I've said this countless times, but food really is the first problem you should solve on an adventure. You need nourishment, at the very least, to keep moving. Without that, there can be no adventure.
And once those two Dimensional Bags collapsed into black holes, everything stored inside them was banished to the Astral Realm along with Damon.
That meant we'd lost almost all our supplies by the time we teleported to the Great Desert.
And Shalti... she'd never even learned "Goodberry"!
She'd personally thrown away the last thing that made her useful as a ranger! And three days ago, when the few dry flatbreads and the flask of water she and Night Wind carried finally ran out, we inevitably began to starve.]
"So, are you two holding up?"
His stomach growled. With no food to digest, it felt as though it were twisting itself into a ball.
Tang hoisted the hungry Yiwu onto his shoulder, then looked back at the two figures trudging behind him.
Walking through the desert was exhausting enough, but despite both being elves, Night Wind looked far more energetic than Shalti.
"Of