The sun blazed overhead, yellow sand stretched endlessly, and the wind cut like a knife, hot as blood.
On their very first day in the Anauroch Great Desert, the Green Velar army learned what the fall of Netheril meant, and what a lifeless land truly was.
Before entering the Anauroch Great Desert, the Green Velar army had marched along singing over hot pot, dipping mutton and spreading butter. Thanks to the Little Auspicious Grass King's blessing, food was the last thing their supply train lacked. As for their pay, although the Shogunate had not paid them on time, not a single soldier doubted His Highness the General's ability to honor his promise.
That was the advantage of Aaron's soaring prestige.
Yet everything took a sharp turn for the worse once the army entered the Anauroch Great Desert.
The weather went straight from early spring to scorching summer. The blazing sun roasted every inch of the desert, and amid the billowing yellow sand, even the most experienced adventurers found the dreadful climate unbearable. Many soldiers immediately sank into despair. Before it had even seen combat, the army had lost fifteen to twenty percent of its fighting strength.
Fortunately, Aaron had anticipated this. The reserve force he led was responsible for gathering up those who fell out of the march.
Maximian, the Sword Saint Monk commanding the left army, glanced around, drenched in sweat.
I never imagined it would be this hard.
They had already advanced fifteen kilometers into the Great Desert. Over those fifteen kilometers, the left army had seen no water, none of the creatures that ought to inhabit a desert-scorpions, camels, snakes, and the like-and no plants, not even common cacti. There had not even been any change in the weather. There was only sand, sand, more sand, and