8 — Chapter 8

“Ugh… ngh… gah! Kah! Kah!”

Sand caught in my throat came flying out with a cough. Still, the inside of my mouth felt dry and rough. Dust made everything taste bitter and heavy.

“Hot!”

The first thing I felt as I opened my eyes was heat. My back burned. My cheek burned. It felt like I was about to catch fire. I tried to spring up, but pain stabbed through every part of my body.

It was only scorching sand all around me.

Where am I…?

The blazing sun. The sweltering sand. Not a single breeze in sight.

“Haa…”

I was too exhausted to even think. I started to twist my body, trying to force myself upright. If I just stayed like this, I felt like I would die. Then I noticed something cool against my palm.

What’s this?

“Ah!”

The sound slipped out of me before I knew it.

The Totoro tree fruit!

I brought my clenched hand to my eyes. The coolness spread all the way to my face. Totoro fruit had to be consumed within two days or it would rot. Opening my hand, I saw it still fresh, in its true form.

So not even two days had passed yet… I let out a breath of relief, but another thought followed. Should I eat it? Or leave it?

“Urgh…”

I forced myself upright. After clearing my head for a bit, some strength trickled back into my body.

“Phew…”

A sigh escaped me on its own. The heat made me frown, and I cursed the blinding sun. No shadows existed anywhere. Beyond the dunes, there was only more sand, and beyond that, the horizon.

“Huh? The Rocky Mountain…”

The Rocky Mountain was gone. No matter where I looked, it was nowhere to be seen. Nothing but sand stretched out endlessly. Only sand and heat existed here.

“Ah…”

My chest tightened with a suffocating helplessness I couldn’t name. I was alone. Alone in the desert. Alone in the Desert of Death.

The unbearable heat dragged me back to reality. And that reality was despair.

What do I do…?

What should I do…?

What could I do…?

What in the world could I do…?

There was only scorching sand. The first problem was food. If I couldn’t escape this desert, I’d die. At that thought, my hand remembered the Totoro fruit. It was cool in my palm. If I ate it, maybe I’d cool down.

Without hesitation, I tossed the fruit into my mouth.

Gulp.

It melted instantly and slid down my throat. The coolness was brief.

“Ugh…”

My insides churned violently. My stomach felt like it was tearing apart.

“AAAAAGH!”

I couldn’t hold back and screamed, but the pain only intensified.

A mage came to visit Dumaine. Though no prior appointment had been made, Dumaine still received the stranger—for the mage came from the Magic Tower.

“I came to deliver this.”

Mages disliked moving in person. They were too used to the convenience of magic. For communication, they usually relied on magical telepathy or similar means. But when dealing with those ignorant of magic, or with matters unrelated to magic itself, they had to appear in person. That was one of the things mages hated most.

The biggest reason? It was bothersome. Time spent traveling was time taken away from academic research. Still, in this case, the order had come directly from the Tower Master. So the mage obeyed without a word of complaint.

“What’s this?”

Dumaine accepted a small cylinder. About seven centimeters wide and fifteen centimeters tall—something usually used to store rolled-up parchment.

“It’s from the Tower Master.”

“Ah…”

Realization struck. This was about the Demon King’s Temple. Dumaine gave a small nod. His thoughts returned to the Mana Elixir.

All he had to do was go to the Demon King’s Temple and return alive. Then the elixir would be his. A substance condensed with pure mana—if consumed, it could even push him to the next realm of mastery. But precisely because of the unknown dangers awaiting at the temple, he had been drilling himself harder than ever.

“I understand.”

“Then I’ll take my leave.”

The mage turned away, his task done. Dumaine had no intention of holding him back for tea or pleasantries. He had no desire to build ties with mages.

He was, at his core, a man of the sword. Building and maintaining relationships was tiresome to him. He didn’t need networks; people followed him naturally. Such was the weight of the title Sword Master. Administrative matters and politics were far from his world. Mages weren’t much different in that sense. Unless something exceptional happened, mages and swordmasters rarely grew close—their paths diverged too greatly.

He opened the cylinder. Faint light shimmered from the carved sigil on its surface—security enchantments. Dumaine paid them no mind and pulled out the rolled parchment. The message was brief, easy to understand.

“Half a month later…”

There was only one important point. They would depart in fifteen days.

Dumaine decided he needed to adjust his training regimen.

After the pain drove me into unconsciousness, I woke again. Four days had passed. I had been walking ever since, trying to find the Rocky Mountain, but it was nowhere to be seen.

Did someone move me after I fell? Otherwise, it made no sense that the mountain wasn’t in sight.

The sun still beat down, but I no longer felt the heat.

I had stumbled upon the Totoro tree by chance. While gathering herbs, I spotted it—and the fruit hanging from its branches. Without a second thought, I climbed. The moment I stepped onto a branch and reached for the fruit, I lost my balance. My weight shifted backward, and before I could react, I plunged off the mountainside.

The last thing I remembered was glimpsing a tree clinging to the cliff face.

I retraced the memory, then looked around again. Still the same. Sand, sand, and more sand…

“Haa…”

I let out a breath, but the heaviness in my chest didn’t ease.

The first thing I realized after eating the Totoro fruit was that my entire body felt cool. The desert’s heat no longer touched me. And yesterday, I discovered something else. I wasn’t hungry.

That didn’t mean I was weak either. Life in the slums had taught me well what starvation did to the body—no energy, no strength to move. But ever since I ate the fruit, I hadn’t eaten anything, and yet none of that weakness came.

It was a blessing, without a doubt. The Totoro tree gruit had given me a gift: a way to survive in the Desert of Death.

Heat shimmered in the distance.

Each step sank my ankles deeper into the sand. Thanks to the Totoro fruit, I no longer felt hunger or heat. But my stamina hadn’t changed. At least the years of climbing the mountain to gather herbs had toughened me up.

Geographically, the desert lay above the Rocky Mountain. I couldn’t know exactly where I was, but if I wanted to see the mountain again, I had to head south. Grandpa had taught me many things—including how to find my way. Using the rising and setting sun as a guide, I walked south.

“Huff… huff…”

I walked on. I couldn’t even tell how many days had passed. Walk, walk, and keep walking. The pain in my legs worsened, blisters covering the soles of my feet. Every step made them scream. Gritting my teeth, I kept going until finally collapsing to the ground.

No human could endure this. Where was the mountain? Had I even chosen the right direction? Doubt seeped into everything I did.

All I could see was the horizon. No peaks, no hint of green—only gold.

Golden waves on every side. Behind me. Ahead of me. To my left and right—only golden sand. The sun hung squarely overhead.

Soon it would set. Even walking a whole day was exhausting.

“Is that… a cactus? Or not?”

Something tall jutted into the sky in the distance. I wasn’t sure what it was. Step by step, I drew closer.

“It is… a cactus.”

In the middle of the empty desert stood a single cactus. Its shape was just as Grandpa had once described. The dense spines kept me from approaching too close.

I sat a short distance away. Haa… my body ached with fatigue. I’d sleep here tonight.

No chance to wash. No change of clothes. With hunger and heat gone, I found myself irritated by small discomforts instead.

I flopped onto the ground and shut my eyes. Rest and sleep were the only way I’d walk again tomorrow.

I had never doubted my eyes before. But now…

At first, I didn’t notice. The harsh sunlight forced me to blink awake, and I shifted my body, brushing away sand stuck to my clothes. Then I looked around to set my direction—and froze.

“The cactus…”

I scrambled as if I’d lost treasure. No matter where I turned, it was gone. Last night, I had fallen asleep beside it. I remembered tossing and turning, worried I might prick myself on its spines. But now, the cactus had vanished.

Suddenly, Grandpa’s voice echoed in my mind—the memory of him pointing at the Desert of Death from the Rocky Mountain.

‘Kark, that there is the Desert of Death. Want me to tell you a secret? Haha, I knew you’d say yes. That desert moves. Does that mean it’s alive? Hmm… it moves, so maybe, but it’s not really a living thing. Haha, fine, fine. People say a massive beast lives under the sand. Maybe it’s that creature making the desert shift. Haha.’

Back then, I thought it was just a story to amuse me. But it hadn’t been a lie. I was facing the reality that the desert sand truly moved.

My head spun with confusion. Beneath the tangle of thoughts, fear surfaced. A terrible idea struck me—I might never make it home.

But I had eaten the Totoro fruit. I wouldn’t starve, wouldn’t freeze or burn.

What if… I wandered the Desert of Death forever, unable to die?

Without realizing, my knees gave out. My legs had no strength left. My whole body felt drained. The word despair circled endlessly in my mind.

“Hhhnk… hic… sob…”

Suddenly, I cried. despair dragged me downward.

The sobs came, but no tears fell.