"A nuclear bomb?!"
In the reception room at Dawn City.
After patiently listening to Kariman's frantic explanation and learning that the Legion intended to strike the City of Abundance with a megaton-class nuclear warhead, Chu Guang froze for two full seconds, completely dumbfounded.
Soon, however, he caught the suspicious elements in the intelligence, and doubt crept into his eyes.
"Is this information reliable?"
*I haven't caught wind of a single rumor, yet you guys found out first.*
It wasn't that he looked down on the intelligence efficiency of a feudal dynasty; Chu Guang simply didn't believe they had that kind of capability.
The Legion was an exceptionally insular organization. They placed heavy emphasis on racial purity, and every core officer was a Wilante.
Battlefield Guy's earlier success in obtaining intelligence on Camp No. 530 had been largely a stroke of sheer luck.
Before Piman and Antoinette were captured, nobody had known about the operation codenamed "Thunder." Even Chu Guang's side had merely deduced that the Legion was planning some major military offensive based on the abnormal stockpile of weapons at that base.
Only when the plan was scrapped did the hidden truth come to light.
Nuclear weapons...
It was hardly surprising that the Legion possessed them.
But how did the Lion Kingdom find out?
Facing Chu Guang's skeptical gaze, Kariman nodded with grave seriousness.
"Absolutely reliable! This intelligence comes from a noble personage within the Falcon Kingdom who sympathizes with our plight. He shares ties of faith and blood with us, and his devotion to the Spirit of the Desert Sea transcends blind loyalty to the Falcon royal house... That is all I can disclose, but I swear before the Spirit of the Desert Sea that not a single word I've spoken is false!"
That grim, solemn expression certainly didn't look faked.
In truth, Chu Guang didn't actually suspect the Lion Kingdom was bluffing him—fabricating false intelligence to ramp up regional tension and pressure their allies to commit troops sooner.
What he truly suspected was whether General Griffin was running a sting operation, dangling bait to flush out traitors.
Still...
Kariman's reasoning held plenty of water.
Even in a classical militaristic realm like the Falcon Kingdom, internal opinions could never be entirely unified.
Even if the ministers had no dispute about acting as the Legion's dogs, they would still argue over whether to be a toy poodle or a husky.
More importantly, to the desert folk, the River Embankment was a sacred blessing bestowed by the Spirit of the Desert Sea.
If the Legion intended to obliterate the City of Abundance with a nuclear strike, it wasn't at all strange that devout believers would step forward to oppose it.
Chu Guang closed his eyes and pondered for a moment, then spoke slowly.
"I will instruct our intelligence operatives to keep an eye out, but I cannot guarantee results. Concealing his identity remains his top priority right now.
"Additionally, I will contact our allies on the eastern coast as soon as possible to discuss countermeasures."
Pausing, Chu Guang looked at Kariman and continued, "Of course, relying on us alone won't be enough. Sunset Province is vast. I need you to use the same network that uncovered this nuclear news to gather as much specific detail as possible. For instance, where the bomb is, what type it is, its delivery method, and its delivery range... Every piece of information is crucial."
A mere "megaton-class yield" offered far too few clues.
Even knowing whether the warhead was slung beneath a bomber or mounted on a missile would narrow down the search area considerably.
After laying out the intelligence priorities, Chu Guang patiently briefed Kariman on a few crucial technical details worth watching for.
For example, a megaton-class nuclear warhead wasn't something packed into a briefcase that someone could casually carry around.
Beyond the delivery aircraft or missile launchers, it required an entourage of dedicated engineers and technicians for maintenance.
All of these could serve as leads in an investigation.
Once the meeting with Prince Kariman concluded, Chu Guang immediately summoned the Enterprise's representatives, informing Yi Chuan and the others that the Legion was deploying nuclear weapons to Sunset Province.
Although the authenticity of the report remained to be verified, that didn't stop Chu Guang from putting it to use preemptively.
The Alliance was bearing the brunt of a nuclear threat on the Enterprise's behalf!
The Alliance needed more support!
While Chu Guang adroitly leveraged the intelligence Kariman had provided to secure further backing from the East Coast, General Maclen, who had left the Oasis No. 9 front and marched south, was also busy preparing in secret to recapture the *Heart of Steel*...
***
The abandoned highway lay smothered in yellow sand, leaving behind only fractured stretches of concrete wreckage.
The bare bridge piers and slabs of pavement breaking through the dunes looked like bleached bones floating upon the surface of an endless sea of sand. Only a rusted road sign still remembered its name.
This was Highway 7, named after Oasis No. 7.
Yet today, both the oasis and the highway had vanished without a trace into the desert.
At a T-junction, standing at the terminus of a spur branching off the main artery, loomed an imposing alloy embankment.
It was as tall as a skyscraper and stretched farther than the eye could see.
Near the foot of the wall ran massive pipes, each as thick as a buffalo's torso, with outlet ducts beneath them connecting to sand-choked irrigation channels.
This monumental feat of engineering had once irrigated a fertile basin, just like the City of Abundance.
Yet unlike that flourishing metropolis, this ring-shaped embankment had been reduced to ruins, and the oasis dependent on it had been abandoned over time.
The northern section remained relatively intact, merely buried by sand and earth. The southern section, however, looked as though it had been struck by some horrific superweapon: an entire stretch of the alloy embankment had been erased, while the remainder lay shattered into twisted, unrecognizable wreckage.
Destroyed alongside the embankment was the very earth beneath its foundations.
The terrifying force of that weapon had altered the regional geology, turning what had once been an open plain into a deep canyon.
The people of the desert called it the Lost Valley.
Legend had it that in the distant past, a brutal battle had raged here, causing the blessing of the gods to fall and the curse of fel energy to descend, forever blighting this fertile soil.
Two centuries had passed. The outcome of that ancient war was lost to history, leaving behind only desolate ruins for posterity to ponder.
General Maclen's destination was none other than this place.
He had not come, however, to pay respects to the ancients.
He was looking for something.
Something capable of overcoming the *Heart of Steel*...
Gunfire echoed through the broad canyon.
Legion soldiers in desert-colored body armor advanced in three fireteams, covering one another in alternating bounds as they methodically exterminated gnawers lurking in the shadows.
The gnawers here differed from those elsewhere. The extreme lack of water had stunted their growth, but in return, their movements were fiercer and far more erratic.
Besides gnawers, there were desert lizards that preyed on them, along with burrowing radscorpions as tall as a grown man's waist.
The scorpions in particular seemed to have nested here.
On their very first day, they had lost five retainers. One had suffered a gruesome death, his skull pierced clean through by a scorpion's stinger.
Glancing at the alien corpses littering the ground, a Legion soldier cursed bitterly.
"Slime mold... Damn it, how is there mutant slime mold in the desert? Isn't that stuff a specialty of big ruined cities?"
If memory served, it struggled to survive without water.
"Who knows? Maybe two centuries ago, a lump of filth landed right here." The squad leader, a decurion, swapped magazines and expressionlessly swept his gaze across the ravaged battlefield, eventually clicking his tongue in exasperation.
Most of the wreckage was buried deep under the sand.
If they wanted to find the treasure hidden below, they would have to dig it out first.
Hunting for artifacts while constantly fending off ambushes sounded like a pipe dream.
Fortunately, they didn't have to carry out the dangerous excavation themselves. The retainers, whose lives were cheaper than slaves, could do the dirty work—and there was an endless supply of them.
"What are we even looking for out here?" one soldier couldn't resist asking.
The decurion gave a curt reply.
"Hell if I know. General Maclen probably has his reasons... Stop asking questions and just focus on your job."
Once the sector was cleared of beasts, retainers shouldering shovels and rifles filed back onto the site, digging up tons of earth and hauling it out of the canyon by the cartload.
Not far behind them lay the entrance to the towering canyon.
A sprawling, makeshift camp was pitched there, separated by barely a hundred meters from the embankment ruins that stretched for dozens of kilometers.
The camp covered roughly a hundred thousand square meters. Encircling its perimeter was a rampart of sandbags strung with barbed wire and draped in camouflage netting.
Parked in the center of the camp were more than two hundred trucks, dozens of which mounted quad anti-aircraft guns.
Approximately an entire myriad was stationed here.
Inside a large command tent, a gathering of officers stood at attention.
General Maclen stood by the map table, conversing with a technical officer.
Resting on the table between them was an aging holographic projector. Within its cone of pale blue light hovered the shimmering projection of an opalescent cylinder.
Maclen stroked his chin and asked with keen interest, "The shield core you mentioned looks like this?"
It appeared slightly different from the one on the *Heart of Steel*.
The technical officer smiled. "Precisely. That's what we're looking for... Isn't it magnificent?"
General Maclen gave a dry chuckle. "It's all right, I suppose."
He saw nothing particularly magnificent about it; compared to his private art collection, it fell far short.
Still, that hardly mattered.
So long as it could help him cripple the *Heart of Steel*'s deflector shield and anti-gravity system, that was enough.
He only hoped that by the time he reclaimed the airship, those savages hadn't ruined his precious treasures.
Staring into the cone of light, the technical officer's expression took on a trace of obsession as he babbled on, "Quark-gluon plasma... They say a single cubic centimeter weighs forty billion tons, and it can only exist stably under conditions of ultra-high temperature and extreme pressure. One of the greatest applied physics breakthroughs of the Era of Prosperity was finding a practical way to stabilize it."
Curious, General Maclen asked, "That thing weighs forty billion tons?"
The glowing tube looked significantly larger than a single cubic centimeter.
The technical officer chuckled softly. "Of course it isn't that heavy... The amount of quark-gluon plasma stored inside the shield core is minuscule, weighing around ten kilograms. As for the glow you see, that isn't the plasma itself; its true form cannot be observed with the naked eye."
Apart from Maclen, the officers standing around the table traded bewildered glances.
To them, such arcane scientific theories were indistinguishable from the superstitious beliefs of the desert nomads.
Both relied on internally consistent logic, and with their current level of technology, neither could be proven nor disproven.
Pausing briefly, the technical officer continued, "According to historical records, the Human Alliance Aerospace Forces once deployed a Titan here to purge a broodmother that had landed on this site. Its shield core output was equivalent to that of a standard corvette... All we need to do is find it."
Whether it was deflector shields, anti-gravity units, or neutrino communication channels—all these technologies born in the mid-to-late Era of Prosperity relied on breakthroughs in graviton and gravitational field research made during the early era.
That spin-2, massless boson—the hypothetical particle postulated by quantum mechanics to mediate gravity, ubiquitous throughout the natural universe—had been theorized by classical physics, but never observed.
During the glorious Era of Prosperity, physicists had finally detected it through precise calculations and experiments, establishing rigorous theories to explain its mechanics.
While gravitons could not be scooped up and kept in a jar like glass marbles, one could influence them indirectly via ultra-high-density matter, thereby altering gravitational fields.
Applications ranged from deflecting the velocity vectors of moving objects across curved space to dampening or neutralizing the gravitational interaction between massive bodies.
The former formed the operating principle of deflector shields, while the latter was commonly applied to anti-gravity drives.
Even in the Era of Prosperity, both had been cutting-edge applications, yet neutralizing them wasn't especially difficult.
Aside from cutting their power supply or inducing power overloads, there was a far more direct countermeasure: disrupting the gravitational fields governed by the shield generator and anti-gravity unit.
It wasn't particularly complicated.
They didn't need vast batteries of anti-aircraft guns. They only needed that shield core—the glowing power cell—to construct a "phase cannon." By projecting an interference field to disrupt the target region's gravitational envelope, they could temporarily disable the *Heart of Steel*'s shields and anti-gravity system.
Deprived of both, the airship would fall from the sky.
When that happened, they wouldn't even need heavy ordnance. A ground assault force rushing the wreckage would be more than enough to seize it back.
That was precisely why he had demanded ten thousand men from Griffin.
What? Would plunging from the clouds wreck the airship?
That didn't matter in the slightest.
The true value of the *Heart of Steel* lay in the corvette core inside—the reactor, shield core, anti-gravity units, and the suite of black technologies integrated into that central chassis.
As for the steel hull and the propulsion propellers... those cheap, replaceable external fittings were worthless.
Once the vessel was flown back to the Legion's aerodrome, it could be patched up in no time.
A faint smile curled the corners of General Maclen's mouth.
Losing the *Heart of Steel* had been a blemish on his military record, but those savages had been backed by the Enterprise; losing wasn't entirely disgraceful.
As long as he took the airship back, no one would dare accuse him of incompetence.
In an entire century, he was the only myriad commander to trade blows back and forth with the Enterprise. Far from being a source of shame, it would make splendid parlor gossip at aristocratic galas.
Just then, an officer stepped to the tent entrance, snapped to attention, and saluted.
"Report! A telegram from General Griffin!"
At the sound of Griffin's name, annoyance flashed across Maclen's eyes.
That man loved meddling in everything, dispatching telegrams over the pettiest trifles.
Sure enough, barely had Maclen arrived when a message followed on his heels. It was almost certainly another demand to do his bidding.
And it was never good news.
Annoyed as he was, an order was an order.
"Let me see it."
"Sir!" The officer stepped inside and handed the decoded transcript to Maclen with both hands.
Maclen skimmed the paper, his eyebrows arching slightly.
Noticing the change in his expression, an aide beside him asked hesitantly, "Does General Griffin have another demand?"
"He wants us to build an airfield here."
"An airfield?"
The aide looked stunned. The other officers in the tent exchanged bewildered glances.
Griffin was going to allocate army aircraft to them?
That was... unbelievable.
"Indeed."
Giving a terse reply, Maclen walked over to the tent wall and examined the strategic map pinned there.
The Lost Valley lay far south of Oasis No. 9.
Launching airstrikes against the Lion Kingdom from here was clearly impractical.
The Legion possessed only a single jet aircraft in Sunset Province; tactical air support fell primarily to army propeller planes.
The jet had ample range but was only one machine, whereas propeller planes were numerous but lacked sufficient reach.
On the other hand, this position was remarkably close to Oasis No. 4.
Heading west from here for one or two hundred kilometers brought one to the Twin Peaks of the Zhuobar Mountains. Crossing the pass there led directly to Oasis No. 4 on the southern side of the range.
For aircraft, it would be even simpler—they could fly straight over the mountains.
"...Is that bastard planning a two-front war?" Maclen stroked his chin, his gaze lingering on Oasis No. 4.
The Camel Hump Kingdom couldn't match the Lion Kingdom, but it remained a regional power with a population of a million. With only ten thousand retainers and lacking heavy firepower, he had little confidence in conquering it.
Besides, if he remembered correctly, the plan had called for taking the Golden Lizard Kingdom after Oasis No. 9 fell, leaving Camel Hump for last.
If the objective wasn't Camel Hump...
Maclen pondered, shifting his gaze eastward across the map until it came to rest on the eastern edge of Sunset Province—that expanse of verdant forests and plains.
That was equally distant, roughly the same flight distance as Oasis No. 9.
Yet it fell squarely within the operating radius of the jet!
A sudden realization dawned on Maclen, and he burst into hearty laughter.
"Hahaha... Griffin, you cunning skunk! I see what you're planning!"
The officers in the tent looked at one another.
*Wasn't he an old fox a moment ago? When did he turn into a skunk?*
Suppressing his laughter, General Maclen turned to his subordinates and barked,
"Detach a millenary from the Retinue Army to level the ground north of the camp.
"We're building an airstrip!"
The newly promoted logistics officer stepped forward immediately, snapping to attention with a salute.
"Sir!"
In his memory, General Maclen had never taken General Griffin's orders this seriously.
It had to be something of monumental importance!
Maclen turned back to the map, a vicious gleam surfacing beneath his smug smile.
*Those hideous savages.*
*They will soon pay for their insolence.*
*A pity, though...*
*Dying without feeling a shred of agony is far too merciful for them.*
***
At the same hour, west of the Lost Valley, the sun dipped toward the horizon.
Across a barren stretch of gravel plain directly north of the Zhuobar Mountains, a young girl perched on the back of a bear held a pair of binoculars, craning her neck in excitement as she peered ahead.
Slung across her back was an RPG launcher, and dangling from her belt were grenades, a submachine gun, and a cute mushroom badge. Though her black tights and jacket were torn and her fluffy short hair had been ruffled into a bird's nest by the wind, none of it could diminish her silly, swaggering bravado.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Look at those huge twin peaks!"
Baked lethargic by the sun, the white bear lifted its head, looking ahead with a listless grumble.
"...I feel like Tail just said something that's going to get flagged."
Behind the steering wheel of the truck, Sisi chimed in, "Yeah. If you typed that in public chat, it'd definitely be censored into asterisks or replaced with random words."
Tail: "???"
Standing in the front of the truck bed, gripping the roof-mounted machine gun, Sesame Paste gazed into the distance. The cat ears atop her head twitched with excitement.
"Don't you think those two mountains look like a cat's head?"
"Ooh! That's a great name!" Tail's eyes sparkled, and she turned back to give a thumbs-up. "Let's call it Cathead Mountain!"
Unable to understand the conversation among the three girls and one bear, the old man riding a two-headed ox alongside the truck chuckled, speaking in the Human Alliance tongue.
"Those are the Twin Peaks."
Though he couldn't follow their words, their expressions and gestures made it obvious they were debating the name of those two majestic summits.
The old man's name was Buma, a resident of Oasis No. 4 who made a living trading with nearby mining camps. On his return journey, he had run afoul of marauders and nearly lost his life.
Fortunately, he had crossed paths with these kind-hearted girls, escaping with his life and recovering his ox.
To repay his debt of gratitude, he had offered to serve as their guide.
Considering they knew nothing about Oasis No. 4 and having a local guide would save them unnecessary trouble, Sisi had agreed.
As for how they ended up here, that was a long story.
After the battle of Ruigu City concluded, the White Bear Knights took a brief rest before setting out again, heading west into the desert.
With Oasis No. 9 engulfed in war, heading to the Lion Kingdom was clearly a terrible idea.
Sisi had suggested visiting the Golden Lizard Kingdom instead, hearing that traveling north from Oasis No. 8 led to the Wandering Marsh, where the mysterious Academy was hidden.
At first, everyone thought it was a fine plan.
Halfway through the journey, however, they heard travelers at a waystation claim that crossing the southernmost Zhuobar Mountains and traveling south to Silver Moon City in the Camel Hump Kingdom would bring them to the boundless sea.
The moment they heard "sea," the three girls and the bear grew ecstatic.
*The ocean!*
Compared to swamps and research institutes, the ocean was infinitely more appealing!
At Tail's suggestion and Rou Rou's enthusiastic backing, the White Bear Knights executed an immediate one-eighty and turned south instead...
"Huh? It already has a name?" Tail looked at the old man in surprise.
"Haha, it's quite famous. Anyone who frequents this region has heard of it."
A touch of pride surfaced on the old man's weathered face as he continued, "My home, the Petra Fortress, sits nestled between those two mountains! It is perhaps the only survivor settlement in the entire desert that doesn't rely on an oasis. Beyond the Petra Fortress lies Oasis No. 4, and that pass is the only road leading there."
"Petra!"
Hearing that name, Tail excitedly tugged on Rou Rou's fur. "Rou Rou, Rou Rou, it's Petra! Maybe we can dig up gold coins and production hammers in the desert around here!"
Rou Rou deadpanned, "...That's from another game, and not even the same universe."
From the driver's seat, Sisi pondered for a moment before speaking.
"Well... that's true, but logically speaking, if this really is the only bottleneck leading to Oasis No. 4, there might actually be treasures buried beneath the sand."
Caravans swallowed by dust storms.
Or valuables that tumbled off ox carts along the bumpy trail.
If one took the time to look, they might genuinely unearth something from the sand beneath their feet.
Whether it was worth anything was another matter entirely.
"Ooh! Treasure hunting!" Hearing that validation, Tail's excitement flared, and even Rou Rou beneath her perked up with interest.
The girl and the bear eagerly mapped out a treasure-hunting plan, agreeing to take entrenching shovels into the dunes the moment they finished their trading.
Watching her cheerful companions, Sisi couldn't help but smile.
Compared to warfare, an easygoing journey like this was far more enjoyable. Over the past month, the things they had seen and heard along the road were enough to fill an entire book.
*If only peace could last forever.*
Though in her heart, she knew this brief respite was merely the calm before the storm. A few days ago, the Death Corps had launched a preemptive strike against the Legion; once this road trip ended, they would likely have to report to the front line as well.
Sesame Paste looked at the old man on the ox, asking curiously, "Is there anything we should watch out for at the Petra Fortress?"
The old man smiled warmly.
"Nothing in particular. The locals are far more open-minded than other desert dwellers. As long as you respect their faith, they will respect you in turn. Local law strictly forbids murder, dueling, and theft, so do keep that in mind... Though I doubt you ladies would ever engage in such things.
"By the way," the old man glanced at the ears atop her head and grinned, "the people of Camel Hump are very fond of cats. You'll be quite popular there, miss."
Sesame Paste flushed self-consciously and pulled on her helmet.
Chatting and laughing, the group soon drew near the colossal fortress.
Its silhouette resembled an ancient Roman colosseum. The curved concrete structure had been reinforced along its exterior with stone masonry and timber, and the muzzles of cast-iron cannons jutted from the battlements.
Alongside those crude weapons, light and heavy machine guns were mounted atop the ramparts—hardly enough to threaten a regular army, but more than sufficient to deter desert bandits and marauders.
Square, flat-roofed dwellings spread across the valley between the twin peaks, creeping up the slopes toward the ridges.
This was both a fortress and a survivor settlement, boasting a permanent population of seventy to eighty thousand, with an untracked number of transients.
Caravans not only from the River Valley Province but also from the Jinchuan Province passed through here, making the place bustling with life.
People hawked their wares along muddy thoroughfares, setting up crude stalls by propping colorful linen sheets over triangular timber frames.
Everything imaginable was on sale, reminiscent of a chaotic Somali bazaar.
Next to fruit stands stood rifle stalls, where dark-skinned women in plaid skirts nursed infants with one hand while haggling over firearms with visiting mercenaries with the other.
The din was deafening.
From the moment they stepped into the marketplace, the group found themselves raising their voices, nearly shouting just to hear one another.
"Hey, this looks a lot like Horseshoe Town back in the Red River Alliance!"
"Whoa, but it's way bigger! Far bigger than Horseshoe Town!"
"Haha... Horseshoe Town was just a small settlement, after all."
"Hmm... I wonder if there are any high-value local specialties here," Sisi mused from behind the wheel, surveying their surroundings.
According to the old man Buma, the spices, carpets, beef, camel milk, and cow's milk here were famous, along with certain ironware and ceramics.
Unless strapped for cash, one was best advised to avoid the rifles and ammunition sold by street peddlers. The wares displayed on carpets were either salvaged from marauders or slapped together with cheap materials in back-alley workshops.
The former suffered from neglect, while the latter suffered from abysmal craftsmanship; a jam or catastrophic blowout at a crucial moment could easily cost a user their life.
"...If you need to restock ammunition, you can place an order with the workshops in town. As long as the cartridges aren't too complicated, the craftsmen can customize them to whatever caliber and primer type you need."
The old man glanced toward the cluster of houses nearby, then turned to the girls in the truck, asking deferentially, "I'd like to head home first to let my family know I'm safe. The trip usually takes three days, but I've been delayed for so long that my wife and children must be sick with worry... Shall we meet back here tomorrow morning?"
Sisi nodded.
"Let's say six tomorrow morning, then. We need some rest too."
She had already marked an inn with a garage and warehouse on her map, intending to check in and drop off their gear first.
They still had plenty of ammunition on the truck, so restocking wasn't urgent. Their immediate task was to liquidate their cargo for local currency.
Word was that devil silk was in high demand locally, with a roll as thick as an arm fetching a whole big-horned ox. For them, so long as one had sufficient contribution points, devil silk could be bought dirt-cheap.
Orders from Shuang Mao Ranch were very lucrative: a single three-thousand-jin big-horned ox went for nearly six thousand silver coins.
Add in the oddities and knickknacks they had brought along, and a single truckload could easily yield a profit of over a million on the round trip!
While Sisi calculated their margins, Tail and Rou Rou suddenly stopped in front of a roadside stall.
Scrambling down from Rou Rou's back, Tail leaned over the blanket spread with old books and scrolls. Her eyes lit up as if she had discovered a new continent.
Looking up at the merchant seated beneath the canopy, Tail asked excitedly, "Mister, do you sell treasure maps here?"
"Treasure maps?"
The vendor froze, taken aback for an instant. But very quickly, a wide grin cracked across his wrinkled face.
Suppressing his smile, he cleared his throat, adopted an air of profound mystery, and lowered his voice.
"Customer, normally I wouldn't share this, but seeing as fate has brought us together..."
Tail's eyes sparkled.
"Fate?"
The vendor smiled faintly, fixing his gaze on her. "Have you ever heard of the Lost Valley?"
If she had, he could skip the theatrical buildup.
Yet just as he expected, this girl was clearly visiting for the first time—perhaps even her first time in the desert—and had never heard of that cursed place.
Tail shook her head vigorously, gazing at the old man behind the stall with pure anticipation.
"Nope! Is there something there?"
The vendor's gaze drifted thoughtfully, and he drew out his words.
"Haha, far too many wondrous things... Legend has it that the Lost Valley is where the Sky God fell."
"Ooh! The Sky God?!" Hearing such an awe-inspiring title, not only Tail but even Rou Rou beside her perked up with excitement.
Glancing at the remarkably expressive white bear, the vendor continued his tale.
"Indeed. It happened long, long ago. The twilight of the gods descended at the stroke of midnight, turning the pitch-black sky as bright as day. Gods once united turned upon each other in the realm of mortals, tearing at flesh and blood until the Sky God met his tragic end. The scepter slipping from his fingers shattered the blessing of the Spirit of the Desert Sea, turning what was once a fertile oasis into a cursed wasteland..."
Seeing the girl listening with rapt, starry-eyed attention, the vendor knew his opportunity had arrived. Lowering his voice, he dangled the hook.
"...Those are common tales, but few know what transpired after the battle ended."
"What happened?!" Tail swallowed hard, her face brimming with eager anticipation.
The vendor lowered his eyes slightly.
"The disciples of the Sky God recovered his divine remains and erected a grand temple over his resting place. Two centuries have passed, and his servants have followed him into death, vanishing into the boundless sands... Yet legend says the Armor of the Sky God remains there to this day, enshrined within that temple buried beneath the dunes!"
Tail clenched her fists in wild excitement.
*A hidden quest! Giao!*
"You mean, if we find that temple, we can find the Armor of the Sky God?!"
"Precisely."
The vendor gave her an appreciative look, as if rewarding her sharp intellect, and lifted an aged scroll from the blanket.
"I happen to have a treasure map right here. Originally, I planned to hire mercenaries and go look for myself, but as you can see... my business keeps me tied down. I can't spare the time, and my hair is nearly white from waiting. If you're interested, I can part with it."
Tail gasped eagerly, "How much?!"
The vendor pondered for a moment.
"Well... let me think. After all, I bought it from another traveler for ten thousand gold camel coins. Seeing as fate has brought us together, I'll let you have it at cost."
"Ten thousand gold camel coins!?" Tail's face fell into dismay. "Aww... I don't have that much."
When they rescued the old man Buma, she had salvaged a small pouch of coins stamped with camels from the marauders they dispatched.
Buma had mentioned those were gold camel coins, with small ones worth one and large ones worth ten.
But that pouch held only a handful; though she hadn't counted them carefully, there was no way it approached ten thousand.
Guessing she had just arrived and hadn't exchanged local currency yet, the vendor hurried to add, "What about dinars? Dinars are fine too! Ten thousand will do! Or Cr, though I can't give you a great exchange rate on Cr... Thirty thousand, no, forty thousand or so?"
Tail shook her head like a rattle.
"Don't have that either."
The vendor's expression soured with disappointment.
The girl looked fair-skinned, and though dusted with travel grime, her complexion was far healthier than ordinary wastelanders. She kept an exotic beast as a mount and traveled with a truck, looking every bit like a rich young lady fleeing from Oasis No. 9. Yet she couldn't even squeeze out this much coin.
*What a terrible read on a customer.*
Still, operating on the principle of squeezing whatever he could get, he put his acting skills to work, assuming a conflicted, pained grimace.
"Fine, fine. For the sake of our affinity, I'll let you have it for six thousand dinars... Think about it: for the price of just six sturdy slaves, this map is yours. Once you recover the Armor of the Sky God, you might just restore your noble house to glory!"
"Ooh! Restore my house to glory!"
Tail's eyes shone even brighter, and she turned a pitiful, pleading look toward Sisi in the driver's seat.
"Si..."
Seeing that puppy-dog expression, Sisi said helplessly, "All right, Tail, let's head to the inn. This guy clearly sees that you're easy to fool and is trying to fleece you."
Tail protested, "But what if it's a hidden quest! A treasure map bought from an exotic bazaar, holding an earth-shattering secret..."
Seeing her desperate craving, Sisi sighed, pulled the handbrake, cut the engine, and hopped down from the cab.
The vendor eyed the approaching woman with sharp vigilance.
Instinct told him this one wouldn't be nearly as gullible.
Sisi pulled out a coin pouch, thumbed through it, and looked at the vendor. "I happen to have a pouch of gold camel coins here. About... ninety-odd coins. If you want them, sell. If not, we're leaving."
"Ninety?! You might as well ask me to give it away for free!" The vendor's eyes bulged, outraged by the steep drop. Gritting his teeth, he groaned, "...Three thousand dinars. That's my absolute rock-bottom price!"
Hearing the price slashed in half instantly, Tail was flabbergasted.
"Huh?! Wasn't Tail supposed to get the discount because of fate?"
"Uh..." The vendor gave an awkward laugh, shifting his gaze away, not daring to meet her eyes.
Sisi smiled faintly. "Perhaps the shopkeeper feels he shares a greater affinity with me."
The vendor scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin. "Fair lady, you speak the truth! How about... twenty-five hundred? I really can't go lower. Any cheaper and I'd rather hire mercenaries to dig it up myself—"
"Eighty."
Sisi fished a few coins from the pouch, slipped them into her pocket, tossed the pouch onto the blanket, and picked up a book, waving it gently.
"And throw this in as a bonus."
*Oases Beneath the Zhuobar Mountains.*
From the title, it looked like a useful guide to the local region.
After all, they had picked up the old man Buma along the road; even though they had saved his life, she didn't trust him unconditionally.
This was the wasteland.
Not a fairy tale.
The vendor's face darkened, his jaw clenching tight.
Seeing him look so miserable, Tail suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. Tugging gently at Sisi's sleeve, she whispered, "Si, maybe we should just go... I don't really want it anymore."
Forcing someone into an unfair deal always made her uncomfortable.
Sisi smiled and didn't press the matter.
"All right, we'll do as Tail says."
With that, she set the book down and turned to walk away.
At that exact instant, the vendor, whose face had been black as thunder a second earlier, leaped up like a squirrel with its tail stepped on, snatching the coin pouch into his chest.
"Eighty! Eighty it is! It's a deal! The scroll and the book are yours, take them and go!"
"Really?!" Tail took the scroll with a joyful squeal.
Having anticipated his reaction, Sisi smiled calmly, tucked the book into her jacket, and said, "Thanks."
The truck's engine roared back to life.
Watching the truck rumble away down the street with the girl leading the bear alongside it, the vendor spat on the ground and cursed them as paupers.
Weighing the coin pouch in his hand, a shadow of melancholy crept onto his wrinkled face.
He had only made eighty coins on the deal.
Who knew how long he would have to wait for the next mark?
*If I'd known, I would have caved sooner...*
Chapter 431