Chapter 10

Dumaine encountered the mage on his way back after finishing his morning training.
The visit hadn’t been announced, but his senses had already picked up the mage’s presence long before they met.

“I came to deliver this.”

From the wide sleeve of his robe, the mage handed over a medium-sized cylinder, the kind used to store rolled parchment.

“From the Tower Master?”

At Dumaine’s question, the mage nodded.

“Yes. Then I’ll be going…”

With his task done, the mage turned to leave. There was no benefit in being seen together.

Dumaine watched his figure retreat into the distance, then resumed his walk back to his quarters, thoughts drifting along the way.

Ten days ago, he had been told to be ready in fifteen days. He had waited ever since. To keep himself sharp, he had increased the amount of his training slightly, shifting his focus. Before, he had drilled sword forms, but lately he had concentrated more on mana training.

Back in his quarters, Dumaine set his sword on a small table and opened the cylinder. Inside was a neatly rolled parchment.

‘Postponed indefinitely? What’s going on? Did something go wrong?’

He unrolled the message sent by Tower Master Hazabut, his face betraying no emotion. His guess had been correct—something had interfered with the schedule. No explanation was given, only a promise that they would inform him when a new date was set.

“Never once have I seen those mages keep their word.”

He crumpled the parchment and tossed it into the candle flame. Then he stripped off his clothes and went to wash.

“Damn bastards, are they toying with me?”

For the past year, the Widav Kingdom had been busy. Outwardly, things seemed calm, but within, everything was in chaos. The reason was the Desert of Death.

To strengthen the kingdom’s power, they needed to explore the Demon King’s Temple buried within that desert. Who knew what treasures or secrets might be hidden there?

Because of its importance, fewer than twenty people in the entire kingdom knew the truth about the temple.

“Lord Hazabut! The mana field is thinning!”

A mage shouted without lifting his hands from the crystal sphere before him. Excitement filled his voice, and it carried straight to Hazabut.

‘At last!’

The Tower Master didn’t let his joy show, only asked calmly,

“When do you expect?”

“About thirty days!”

“Good. Keep watching it closely. This is a great work of importance…”

“Yes, sir!”

Hazabut gave the mage’s shoulder a firm pat, then stepped outside.

‘Damn knight…’

Whenever Hazabut thought of Dumaine, irritation surged up. He was one of only three 7th-class mages on the entire continent—the greatest mage alive. Yet just one lowly knight could set his temper ablaze. Over the past year, Dumaine had provoked him so much that Hazabut often wished he could curse the man into silence for life.

“Damn bastard…”

Still, whatever grudge he held, only thirty days remained. It was time to focus on preparing for departure.

The next day, Dumaine heard news of the expedition. They said only thirty days were left. His lips twisted into a crooked smile, one corner rising high.

“Fools.”

Relations between mages and knights had never been good. Especially here in the Widav Kingdom—the heart of magic—the divide was even worse. The only reason knights remained was because, compared to their rank elsewhere, they were treated relatively well here.

But the rift between Dumaine and Hazabut was the deepest. For the past year, their animosity had spread in whispers both inside and outside the capital.

Hazabut had acted so lofty, so nauseatingly arrogant, that Dumaine didn’t even want to speak to him. When the departure was delayed indefinitely, the mages had sent word with a smug attitude, as if to say, “It’s not our fault.” Their posture of self-righteousness made his skin crawl. When Dumaine finally confronted them, they responded with petty disdain. The longer it went on, the more he loathed the thought of dealing with them.

But he endured. This was about the Mana Elixir—a prize that could instantly expand his standing.

‘Once this mission is complete…’

His eyes gleamed with ambition.

I lived yesterday, so I was alive today. I had to live tomorrow too. I didn’t know how much time had passed. That no longer mattered. Only surviving each day did.

Screeeech…

The sound of spiders echoed from afar. I paused in washing myself and scanned the surroundings. Lately, their cries had been coming more often.

I had stayed by this oasis for quite a while. Finding water in the desert was rare. When I first discovered this place, I felt nothing but joy. The Totoro fruit meant I didn’t need to drink, but it still felt like I’d found treasure. And in a way, I had.

After finishing my wash, I moved under the shade of a tree.

Screeeech…

The spiders’ cries grated on my ears. They were closer now. More than one—my instincts told me so. My instincts weren’t always right, but they had saved me before. Believing them was what had kept me alive.

I picked up the sword lying beside me. At first, the dark blade had felt heavy, but after carrying it day after day, I no longer noticed the weight.

The sword had become my treasure. Perhaps because it was the only thing that was truly mine in this endless desert, I felt a strange attachment to it. Even though I couldn’t wield it properly, it gave me comfort and solace.

Screeech… screeech…

The cries drew nearer.

One thing I had learned: wherever spiders appeared, the Giant Worm wasn’t far behind.

Long ago, that worm had saved me from a spider. Or at least, I’d named it Giant Worm because I survived thanks to it. It hadn’t meant to save me—but because of it, I still lived.

Screeech… screeech…

For days now, the spiders’ cries had grown frequent. Which meant the Giant Worm would come hunting.

That was my signal. It was time to leave this oasis behind.

I gave my sword one last look, then set off.

“Mmm…”

The blazing sun stabbed at my eyes. I shot up and, by habit, scanned the surroundings. Only sand. No sign of life anywhere.

Relieved, I loosened my stiff body and began walking again.

It had been a long time since I left the oasis. To me, it had been a sanctuary—the only unchanging place in the ever-shifting desert. I thought it was safe precisely because it didn’t change.

I walked on. With no destination, there was no goal. I simply thought that if I kept walking, something might appear. So I walked, following only my shadow.

When tired, I rested. Then walked again. Hunger never came. Heat never touched me. It was just walk, rest, walk, rest.

The sun burned above. All I could see was sand. In the sky, only the sun and clouds.

Sometimes I wished for death. I had wandered the desert too long, exposed to countless dangers. And sometimes, when I longed for people, grief swallowed me whole.

“Huh?”

Staring at my shadow as I trudged, I noticed something. A black stone.

It jutted faintly above the sand.

At first, I thought it might be a monster, and kept my guard up. But it was clearly a rock. I approached cautiously, examining its surface. Still just a rock. But I didn’t lower my guard. I circled it at a distance.

In an empty desert, even this was entertainment. Dangerous, yes, but interesting.

I stepped back further and prodded it with my sword. The weight of it reverberated through the blade. I poked again, harder this time. A solid sound answered.

I circled again and jabbed more boldly, always keeping my eyes on the surroundings. Nothing happened. The desert remained the same.

I wanted to touch it. But in the desert, danger lurked everywhere. I clenched down on that impulse and moved away.

That was when the desert stirred.

Daytime shifts were rare. When it happened, it was dangerous. Safer to stay still and wait until the desert settled.

I waited, watching. And to my surprise—the black stone was still there. Unaffected by the desert’s movement. Stunned, I stared at it blankly.

Ssshhhrrr…

As the sand shifted, the shape of the black stone slowly emerged.

When the movement ceased, there was no stone. In its place stood a black door.

From the beginning, the stone had only been part of the door.

The desert shifted, raising and erasing dunes at will. What I had seen earlier was only the top of the door.

The door stood wide open, with no door panels—like the kind you’d see in the slums where I had lived. Built of black stone.

Inside was darkness. A gloom that sent a chill through me. I instinctively stepped back. Something about it felt wrong. I stepped back again—yet my body wouldn’t obey.

I forced strength into my legs, but they moved forward.

By the time I realized it, one foot had already crossed the threshold.

“Uwaaaah!”

I screamed without meaning to and collapsed backward. At last, I could move my body again.

Cold sweat drenched me. My heart pounded furiously. My hand found the familiar chill of the sword. I gripped it tight and backed away slowly. Sand slipped into the holes of my clothes, but I didn’t care.

When I felt I had put enough distance between myself and the door, I stood and stumbled back further.

The door loomed in the distance.

Only then did I turn away and resume walking—following my shadow once more.

Was I hallucinating? The thought chilled me. I had believed I was stepping back, but my body had been dragged forward.

I shook my head. Remembering it made me shudder. My grip tightened instinctively around the sword’s cold hilt. The feel of it gave me some comfort.

“Huh?”

I had walked a long while when I saw it again. The black stone.

Why was it there?

Maybe it was just a stone. But the memory of earlier rose up, and goosebumps ran across my skin. My blood felt like it drained away.

Suddenly, the desert moved again—fast.

Sand slid away in an instant, uncovering the stone completely.

And there it was: the black door.

“Uwaaaaah!”

I screamed—and fainted.