Desert Dwellers

“Truly, the faithless exist no matter where you go…”

Saying this, Nadja flung aside the man she had been gripping by the collar.

The unconscious man collapsed into the sand, leaving his limp body half-buried.

Beyond him lay the corpses of many more men strewn across the desert.

“This time there are more than before… just a quick count shows over twenty.”

Binding the sand bandits with practiced hands was Dan, one of the two vice-captains, who bore the aptitude of Swordsman.

After enduring Nadja’s hellish training, he had grown into a warrior whose strength rivaled that of veteran kingdom soldiers.

Even the former bandits, now armed with Element Fruits, had gained enough ability to capture small groups of thieves on their own.

“H-hey! You lot are bandits too, right!? S-spare us, at least our lives!!”

“Kukuku… don’t worry, we won’t kill you. Soon enough you’ll awaken to the greatness of the Faith of Wind and Tree…”

“Eek! Wh-what the hell, this guy’s eyes are totally crazed!?”

Thus, while planning their attack, the bandits had been counterattacked instead, and were now dragged off to the reformation facilities.

There, they would endure Nadja’s whip and Shekuri’s sweetness in turn, while being bathed in the purifying power of the Sanctuary—reborn as devout soldiers.

With Simurg pinpointing the bandits’ hideouts, Nadja’s subjugation force succeeded in capturing every last one.

Those who once plotted to raid Tree Village were reformed, becoming soldiers in its ranks.

In this way, Tree Village both eliminated its threats and steadily increased its fighting force.

The village’s scale and combat strength grew far more rapidly than Woody realized.

But rumors spreading through the desert carried further and further north.

And the information about Tree Village reached the ears of certain people…

In a nameless cluster of sand dunes further north than Tree Village.

Over long years, countless dunes had piled up to form a hilly region.

Amidst the sands stood two silhouettes.

In the freezing desert night, the two women gazed into the distance.

The one on the left, her eyes sharp and severe, looked as though she sought to discern the truth of what lay ahead.

“So… what do you think, Miria-chan?”

“…That story? Hard to believe. An oasis in the desert where water and fruit spring forth without end… surely you don’t believe it, Lulu?”

“Wouldn’t it be fun if it were true?”

The woman on the right sparkled with excitement, like a treasure hunter dreaming of gold and jewels.

“Fun, huh…”

“Yeah. Our lives don’t have dreams or hope, right? So when a story like this suddenly falls into our laps… at least verifying if it’s true or not wouldn’t hurt, don’t you think?”

A sudden whirlwind blew past.

Their hoods were blown back by the wind.

What was revealed—dark skin and long, tautly pointed ears.

“True enough… lately, the flow of magic has clearly been abnormal. Whether the story’s true or not, something is happening. In that case… we should see this paradise for ourselves.”

“As expected of Miria-chan, you get it!”

“Don’t call me -chan. I’m already eighty-six this year.”

“In our kind, that’s still fresh and lively!”

The two dark-skinned beauties, looking no older than their twenties, laughed as they set off.

They were Dark Elves—black elves cast out from the Elven Village that guarded the World Tree.

Cursed and forced to live in the desert—dwellers of the shadows.