Desert and the Golden Tree

During one of Dago's flashbacks, he found himself in a boundless desert of golden sand.

There was no one around, and above hung a blazing sun so bright it hurt his eyes.

He wandered aimlessly through the desert, not knowing where he should go.

Dago felt only thirst. His throat was nearly smoking, and his body was utterly exhausted.

This exhaustion was unreasonable.

As a Formal Wizard, his physique had long surpassed that of ordinary people, and his ability to retain water rivaled that of drought-resistant desert creatures.

Yet this yellow sand seemed to be stripping away his moisture and vitality on a "conceptual" level.

His cells were crying out, and his soul was drying up.

Every step felt like a struggle against the world's rules of rejection.

Just as Dago could no longer hold on and was about to collapse,

his consciousness began to blur, and black specks appeared at the edges of his vision.

That was a sign that his mental power had been drained to its limit.

Suddenly, a broad, solid hand reached out from behind him and steadily supported his swaying body.

There were no energy fluctuations.

There were no ripples in space.

The hand appeared abruptly yet naturally, as though it were part of the laws of the world.

Dago turned his head with difficulty. Beneath the blinding sunlight, he saw a tall, lean figure dressed in a loose gray robe.

The other person wore a hood, concealing his face.

Dago had no idea where or when this person had appeared.

For a long stretch of time, he had clearly been the only person walking through this desert.

This fellow seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

Or perhaps he had been silently following behind Dago all along, only Dago had failed to notice.

But