Chapter 548: Sand Sea Crisis

Chapter 548: Crisis in the Sea of Sand

Though Cullen had spent many days at the estate this time, the window of his recovery that allowed for normal activity was brief, and so, happiness remained fleeting.

Neo called; according to plan, they were to seek out Compasini's burial ground during the final days of Cullen's leave.

The operational plan had already been drawn up by Neo and handed over to Alfred long ago; all Cullen needed to do now was follow the steps outlined in the document, right up until... the moment an unexpected event occurred.

Since they were not heading to the York City Ministry building to use the teleportation matrix this time, Cullen left Pu'er and Kevin behind at the Allen Estate.

At their departure, Eunice did not come down to say goodbye, but stood instead by the floor-to-ceiling window upstairs, clad in white pajamas, leaning gently against the sill as she smiled down at Cullen.

Like winter sunshine, she gave off a deeply warming impression.

Pu'er leapt directly onto Cullen's shoulder and whispered, "Don't you get it? Sometimes when a girl says no, she means yes."

"I don't, but you do?"

"How could I not!"

"Have you ever been in love?"

"I..."

"Have you ever been married?"

"You..."

"In matters of romance, you have less experience than even Kevin."

"Ha, personal attacks now? I actually felt a bit guilty for tearing all of your stockings to shreds, but now, not a bit of it remains. You deserve it!"

"Oh, so that was your masterpiece. Well torn, it had a rather wild flavor to it, I quite liked it."

Pu'er: "..."

...

Alfred drove the hearse, carrying the rest of the group away from the Allen Estate toward Sampoor City, converging with Neo at a gas station close to the city limits, where he had been waiting.

Cullen stepped out of the hearse and into Neo's car; Neo hadn't driven his luxury vehicle, choosing a standard sports car instead.

"How was your rest lately?" Neo asked, starting the engine while gesturing to the hearse behind to follow.

"Very good, quite comfortable."

"Give me a cigarette."

"No, my soul injury has already healed."

"Bah!"

Neo spat his chewing gum out the window and cursed:

"I meant you give me a cigarette. Didn't you take all the specialized Thunder Church cigarettes I kept in my luxury car? You didn't leave me a single pack... no, not even a single stick!"

"Smoking is harmful to your health. It is fine to use as medicine, but smoking too much leads to addiction."

"Speak like a human."

"My injury healed, so I didn't bring any."

"Damn it!"

Left with no choice, Neo opened the glove compartment, pulled out a small medicinal vial bearing a white skull, snipped the top with his fingers, tipped it back, and drank it dry in one gulp.

"There is no need to ruin your body like that."

"I can see your spirits are high, looking like someone who was just nourished by love, so isn't your current comfort a bit cruel to me?"

"Yes, it is a bit, but if I am not cruel to you, how can I highlight my own happiness?"

"Please show some decency."

"Alright."

"I have mostly arranged things for this trip. We will take a teleportation matrix from Sampoor City straight to Morgan, and from Morgan take another to Maixila, which sits right on the edge of the Pest Desert's forbidden zone.

Then we will take a sandboat straight into the forbidden zone; it should take about two days to reach our destination, which is the rumored burial ground of Compasini based on current intelligence."

"Yes, very efficient."

"I have even planned for contingencies. There are quite a few shadowy factions inside the Pest Desert forbidden zone; sand bandits are considered small fry in there. Under normal circumstances, even if you aren't killed by the bizarre and unpredictable natural changes of the zone, it is easy to fall into the hands of those strange organizations.

So I had Bertha go ahead and find a highly reputable guide for us there, who will personally pilot the sandboat to take

"It is no matter; some other day, I shall purchase a bit of coffee, gather a few posters of the goddess Mills, and pay a proper visit to your pets."

"Could it truly be so preposterous?"

"Why call it preposterous? I possess no grand eccentricities in this life; I am simply a man of tender sentiment who harbors a fondness for beasts."

In truth, Purr and Kevin had previously been palpably constrained by the limits of their own prowess, leaving them unable to deploy many of their arts and faculties—much like a matron of incomparable domestic skill who, lacking the essential soybeans, could never hope to brew the finest Vienne paste.

Yet now, as Kevin found another layer of his seals undone by his own hand, the two of them, in concerted harmony, could indeed accomplish feats that had hitherto eluded their grasp.

Just as Neo had remarked, if the cat and dog of the household could double as runic masters and occasionally take on a bit of private enterprise... if nothing else, Purr’s precious coffee would at the very least be supplied in quantities grand enough to burst the belly.

The Administration Building loomed before them; having brought the carriage to a halt, Neo threw open the trunk, retrieved several masks, and pressed them into the hands of the company as they descended from the hearse.

"Don them all, to shroud your identities."

Thereupon, under Neo’s vanguard, the company strode into the great hall of administration; by ordinary protocol, passage through the Church’s teleportation array demanded registration under one's true name, yet Neo produced a certain document that permitted the party to bypass this formal scrutiny entirely.

The tokens for the array had long been secured; once they were claimed, the party stepped into the bounds of the formation, awaiting its awakening.

"We did not register?" Ventura remarked, a note of belated realization in his voice.

Neo worked his wrists into a supple looseness as he replied, "I have issued myself an official missive for a clandestine operation, which is to say, I have dispatched my own person upon a secret errant; thus, no registry is required.

Moreover, the tokens for our passage this day can be seamlessly absorbed into the accounts of our subsequent official duties for future reimbursement, ah."

It was, in essence, employing the state’s provisions to pursue one's own private venture.

Karen offered a faint smile. "In the art of leveraging authority for private gain, Director, your studies have indeed been most thorough."

"Ha, I am merely testing the law in my own person to map these vulnerabilities clearly, so that when my ascension continues in the future, I shall know precisely how to plug these very gaps."

"Your reasoning is impeccable."

The teleportation array flared to life, and a shroud of white radiance enveloped them all.

...

Following a transit through Morgan, the company boarded yet another array and arrived at last in Meaxinla.

As they crossed the threshold of the great array gates, they beheld the waiting guide stationed in the open air.

He was an ancient soul, crowned in hoary frost of hair and beard, his spine somewhat bowed by the years; beside him stood a small maid, appearing to be scarce eight years of age, possessed of an innocent and endearing countenance.

Yet as they advanced, Neo leaned close to Karen and murmured in an undertone, "The girl is thirty at the very least; a dwarf."

"How do you discern it?"

"I can sense the vitality coursing through her blood; it bears none of the sweet delicacy of a child. Mistake me not, I have never partaken of a child’s blood—nay, the truth is, I harbor no habit of drinking blood whatsoever outside the hours of open combat."

"The last time we swept the thoroughfares..."

"That was a mere mischance, and the blame lies entirely with Bernie."

"Honored guests from afar, I am Marli, and this is my granddaughter, Nailing."

"Gratitude to the Great... cough, gratitude to Destiny, for permitting us to secure your assistance; I am certain that in the journey which lies ahead, we shall receive the clearest of guidance."

"Naturally, by the God of the Wilderness above, we are bound to have a most pleasant passage!"

The party climbed into Marli’s carriage; once they had journeyed out of the settlement and into the proper wastes of the desert, Marli signaled for them to alight. He then raised a staff, tracing a series of flourishes through the air before them, and a sand skiff broke the surface, rising from beneath the dunes.

It bore the unmistakable likeness of a seafaring vessel, yet it possessed no sails, its locomotion driven entirely by magic crystals.

Neo sighed with a touch of melancholy. "Ah, it is nothing short of a machine designed to incinerate precious scrip."

The interior of the skiff closely mirrored that of a public coach; once the company had taken their seats, the vessel set forth, its speed exceeding swift, though the yellow sands sprayed so fiercely that they instantly obscured the windows. Fortunately, Nailing kindled an oil lamp, preserving a modest illumination within.

"Pray bear with us; to conserve our energies, we must content ourselves with a kerosene lamp for the present."

The spectacle brought a wry, suppressed amusement to Karen’s lips; you are already employing magic crystals to impel the vessel forward, so what difference would it make to string up an additional electric filament or channel a minor luminescent ward? Was there truly a need to practice such extreme parsimony alongside such grand extravagance?

Yet soon enough, Karen detected a subtle disharmony; with each breath, he grew distinctly aware of a faint repulsion, an instinctual aversion, signifying that a substance akin to corruption was beginning to permeate the air.

"Would anyone care for a morsel of food? I have brought an abundance of our local delicacies, which you are most welcome to sample."

"There is no need," Neo replied, declining without ceremony. "We have brought our own provisions; you may preserve your stores for the time being."

Among those present, save for Karen, Neo, Philomena, Alfred, Ventura, and Muri all unfastened their packs and began to draw forth their sustenance.

Karen offered a gentle reminder: "The climate here is exceedingly arid; remember to drink plenty of water."

As they partook of their meal, each member of the party uncorked a vial of purification elixir and swallowed it down.

After they had journeyed for some time, the elder Marli, who held the helm of the sand skiff, called out with a hearty laugh, "Good sirs, we are on the very verge of entering the Pester Desert Forbidden Zone. Just ahead, along the outer marches, lies a small tribe of the Sand-Snake folk; would you care to turn aside and experience it?"

"Let it be; we shall pass it by, for we ought to husband our time and reach our destination apace." After declining, Neo turned to his companions with a smile. "That lad Richard is not among us, in any event."

Hearing this, Philomena inquired, "The Sand-Snake tribe—what manner of place is it?"

Karen explained, "Something akin to a scenic resort, preserving a few distinct elements of folkloric culture."

To judge by the look in her eyes, she remained entirely unpersuaded, yet she gave a silent nod nonetheless.

Still, Karen could not be said to have uttered a falsehood, for the various pastry shops of distinct local flavor across the lands were, in their own right, a part of the regional heritage.

The sole reason Neo had invoked Richard's name was that, for a certain period, the young man had been exceedingly zealous in inviting others to frequent those very establishments.

Thereafter followed a stretch of pure, uninterrupted travel; once they crossed into the Pester Desert Forbidden Zone, the weather began to exhibit a most capricious nature—one moment the sky would be completely devoid of clouds, the next a tempest of thunder would erupt; at times mirages would materialize, and at others, quite unfathomable extremes of climate would manifest themselves.

Mercifully, Marli proved an uncommonly veteran guide, capable of navigating these crises with great adroitness.

As they rode, Nailing would read aloud from the essays and verses that Pester had left behind concerning this region.

Indeed, Pester had been a wandering troubadour who walked the earth over two millennia ago; some claimed he was a practitioner of a familial belief system, while others maintained he had been a cleric of some established faith.

He had traversed many lands and left a vast treasury of poetry in his wake; even now, the names of numerous locales were derived from the descriptions found within his verses.

The reason this desert forbidden zone was prefaced with Pester’s name was that it marked his final resting place—the ultimate destination of his earthly pilgrimage.

Whether reclining or sitting upright, the company passed the hours pleasantly enough, resting while listening to this woman of thirty or forty years masquerade as a small maid, recounting tales in a tender, childish treble.

At last, after Neo and Marli had jointly consulted the markers upon the map, the destination of their quest was finally drawing near; at their current velocity, scarce a quarter of an hour remained of their passage.

Neo furled the map, took a seat beside Karen, and remarked while kneading his own shoulders, "My frame feels as though it has rusted through from all this sitting; I shall have to stretch myself properly in a moment."

With these words, Neo extended both hands—one grasping the crown of his head, the other catching his chin—and attempted several sharp twists, yet no satisfying crack could be elicited.

"Shall I assist you?" Karen offered.

Neo declined, saying, "Let it be; I fear the weight of your hand lacks proper measure, and it would scarcely be safe."

Nailing stepped forward of her own accord, producing a volume of Pester’s collected verse, and said to Neo, "Uncle, I wish to present this to you as a memento of our journey."

Neo and Karen exchanged a brief look, and both smiled.

Was there not a return journey yet to be made? To proffer a memento now seemed an awfully premature farewell.

Of course, in Nailing’s eyes, their smiles were merely the knowing, indulgent expressions of men touched by the innocent sweetness of a child.

"Very well, my thanks to you, dear little Nailing."

Neo rose to his feet, approached the maid, and accepted the volume of poetry.

"Uncle, I possess yet another volume of verse here; would you be so kind as to grant me your signature?"

Neo teased, "Why not ask that grand brother over there for his autograph instead? Look at how handsome a countenance he possesses."

"I... I should be far too embarrassed before him."

"Hahaha, alright, alright, I will sign it for you."

"I will find you a fountain pen."

At that moment, Marley turned around and spoke, "Um, can one of you take a look, should we keep moving forward or stop right here?"

Karen stood up, walked over to the driver's seat, and leaned forward, "We can go a little further, there is still some distance left."

"Is that so? How much further specifically?"

"Advance another..."

"Screech!!!"

Right then, Marley slammed on the brakes, bringing the sandskiff to a sudden halt, causing everyone inside to lose their balance and sway violently.

Nailing flicked off the pen cap with her fingertip, revealing a sharp little dagger gleaming with a black luminescence, which she slashed directly across Neo's neck.

"Pfft!"

In an instant, a large gash ripped open across Neo's neck, and his head tumbled backward, leaving only a small shred of flesh still holding the head and body together.

Marley grabbed Karen's arm with his left hand, while his right hand held a red fruit that pulsed like a beating heart right in front of Karen's face, shouting:

"This is the Cursed Fruit from the restricted zone! If I crush it, everyone in this narrow area will be splattered with pollution, so none of you move, and behave yourselves!"

The sandskiff stopped on a dune, and over twenty figures emerged from the sand; they were Marley's men, now closing in on the vehicle.

Marley continued to shout to the passengers, "Do not resist, we only take what we want, we have no interest in unnecessary killing. Not only that, we will send you back and guarantee your safety, after all, we care a lot about our reputation."

Seeing that everyone was quiet, offering no resistance and not even making a fuss, Marley was very satisfied; this job was secured smoothly.

Right then, a scene unfolded that astounded Marley beyond anything he could comprehend.

Karen, held hostage by him, opened his mouth, leaned his neck forward, bit the Cursed Fruit floating in front of him right into his mouth, and began to chew.

Marley: "..."

"Crunch... crunch... crunch..."

Neo grabbed his own head with his left hand, lifted it upward, and returned it to its proper place on his neck. To secure it, he deliberately twisted it a few times, emitting a series of extremely dense, crisp bone cracks:

"Ah, that's better..."