"Let's summon the Grime."
On the fifteenth day since Encrid disappeared, Rem spoke.
As soon as Rem spoke, he was ready to persuade them.
Grime was not only the name of a hero, but also a term referring to a black bird of desire, a form of sorcery.
There was also a legend that after the hero's death, he would be reborn as a black bird and protect the West.
In any case, Rem decided he had to take a bold step and opened his mouth.
What is a desire? It's the act of sincerely thinking and praying.
Would that desperation create a miracle?
No, it wouldn't.
Even though summoning the bird of desire wouldn't immediately help them find Encrid, it could at least tell them whether the person they were looking for was alive and in which direction they could find them.
The problem was that this sorcery required them to consume food.
Both the hero Grime and the bird were said to be gluttons.
It meant they would have to offer food as a sacrifice.
Using it now would bring tough times ahead, but they could somehow endure it. Though a difficult and impoverished life was foreseen.
Even so, it had to be done. He was a hero who had saved the West, and he deserved such treatment.
That was the way of the West.
Before Rem could prepare his speech, the chieftain nodded without hesitation.
"Listen to me. This…"
Rem reflexively started to speak, then stopped mid-sentence.
Why did he nod right away?
"Yes, let's summon it."
Rem stopped talking mid-sentence.
"Call the sorcerer."
Following the chieftain's words, Ayul moved, and the sorcerer, who was in the corner of the tent, followed.
Geom Nares and Hira both nodded in agreement.
"The head sorcerer is bedridden, so I will lead."
Hira volunteered to preside over the sorcery ritual.
Her eyes, burning with intense will, showed her determination as she even set aside her cigarette stick.
Rem's sorcery talents were exceptional, but only in the context of combat.
This meant that Rem's sorceristic nature was too rough for such a ritual.
To explain it simply, it was like asking for a favor in a confrontational tone.
It wasn't something Rem could control.
That's why another sorcerer was needed, and Hira stepped up to take the lead.
Even though the ritual would cause her to collapse for at least two weeks, she showed no hesitation.
"But if you summon the Grime now, what will you do later?"
Rem, after suggesting it himself, pretended to worry about the aftermath.
"We'll deal with it when the time comes. The Sky God will help."
The chieftain answered. There was an unyielding conviction in his eyes as well.
But shouldn't a chieftain think about the whole tribe?
As a descendant of the sacred bear, wasn't he putting his entire tribe at risk to save an outsider?
Even though the Western people were loyal, this seemed a bit excessive.
While Rem had planned to persuade them himself, he felt strangely conflicted seeing how they were more eager than him.
'Didn't they all oppose summoning the Grime last time?'
Even during the great tribal war.
When abnormal weather patterns appeared throughout the West.
Wasn't the bird of desire something they avoided using until the very last moment?
Had they somehow found a way to reduce the sacrifice while he was gone?
No, they hadn't.
They lit a large bonfire and piled up the offerings. Starting with a rare fortune herb, precious food was sacrificed and disappeared.
As the food was gathered, the sorcerers all knelt down and began the ritual.
"It's the same as always."
Rem muttered.
"What is?"
The chieftain asked from beside him, looking calm as if simply doing what had to be done.
"I'm asking if it's really okay to summon the bird of desire like this."
The chieftain briefly lowered his head, watching the smoke rise from the stacked logs.
It was a process of infusing his own wish into the ritual.
When he raised his head again, the chieftain looked at Rem.
"We have no other choice, so we do what we can."
Life for life.
It was a common saying in the West.
Gratitude must be repaid with gratitude.
That's what the chieftain did. And all the other Westerners as well.
After all, it was what Rem wanted too.
In the past, no matter what excuse he made, they would always say no to summoning the bird, but now they were more eager than him. It felt strange, but still.
That's how impressive Encrid must have seemed to them.
They didn't just call him an honorable warrior or a savior, the Westerners were betting their entire tribe on finding him.
The smoke billowed, and the flames shot skyward, while the soot rose and began to condense without dispersing into the sky.
No one could approach the bonfire.
If you entered the smoke, you'd die. People would suddenly go mad, have seizures, or collapse.
And that would be the end of them.
For that reason, people stayed away from it.
Above the heads of the retreating tribe members.
The soot gathered, and fifty sorcerers summoned the bird of desire.
Cawwwwww.
The black smoke condensed into wings and a beak. It was a magnificent sight. The black soot in the sky took the form of a bird.
It was like a cloud covering the sky, but its form clearly had a beak and wings.
The bird circled in the sky for a moment before disappearing, and that was enough.
"He's alive!"
Hira shouted. That was the end of the first day.
The bird of desire flew for three days in total, and the tribe burned all the food they had.
"That way!"
Hira, collapsing from exhaustion, pointed in one direction.
Rem turned his head to where her finger indicated.
It wasn't toward the River of No Return but a little more east.
'How could someone possibly survive in the middle of the desert?'
Rem's mind quickly came up with several alternatives.
He knew the desert as well. He wasn't familiar enough to cross it freely, but he knew of a few ways to cross the River of Sand and some back routes.
Some of the smaller tribes lived around the desert.
But surviving in the heart of the desert was a different story.
For most people, eight or nine out of ten would have to rely on luck just to set out on the journey.
What if he were in such a situation?
'Who cares.'
He would just charge forward in one direction and force his way through.
Worried about getting tired? Just break through before you get exhausted.
So what would the Captain have done?
He wouldn't have sat quietly waiting to die.
He must have kept walking without rest.
If the direction was even slightly off, it would lead him deeper into the desert.
If he managed to escape, it would be in the direction Hira was pointing.
'Is the Goddess of luck your ex-wife or something?'
Luck wouldn't just follow, it would have to cling to him tightly for this to be possible.
Judging by the direction, he seemed to have already escaped the heart of the desert.
Since the bird of desire had shown the direction, Rem was already considering crossing the desert himself.
"One of the legends I could have made is gone."
He muttered, and Ayul furrowed her brow beside him.
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
"Nothing. I'd better go greet him."
Rem took a step toward the direction the bird had shown. Even if Encrid had escaped, he would still be on the verge of dying from dehydration.
Over a hundred Westerners followed behind Rem.
"Too many."
Rem grumbled.
"We're worried too."
"As his future wife, I can't be left behind."
"If he's in any sorceristic danger, I can help."
"I just want to go with you."
The mother of Ziba, Ziba, an unnamed sorcerer, and even warriors who were just good fighters.
All of them were as stubborn as they were individualistic.
"A demon indeed."
Beside him, Luagarne muttered.
At one point, Encrid had been called the Squad Leader of Enchantment.
Everyone had been captivated by Encrid.
The crowd here was no different.
In a way, it was only natural.
It was a Western tradition to never forget the one who fought for them.
And now, hearing that the one who saved them was in danger.
How could they just sit back and do nothing?
"I don't know either. Let's all go."
Rem said, leading the way.
* * *
"It was isolation."
The ferryman said.
Encrid blinked. He instinctively knew it was a dream, but the environment was different this time.
It felt like the ferryman wanted to torment him until the end.
Instead of the black river, the surroundings were filled with sand.
It was the River of No Return he had seen while dying. The surroundings were all sand, and the boat was wobbling as it brushed through the sand.
Should he feel tormented just by seeing sand?
Encrid didn't feel anything.
A purple lamp illuminated the sand, and the ferryman, holding the lamp, spoke again.
"You really kept walking well."
Today's ferryman was quite serious.
Had he lived so long that his personality had split? Or was he just eccentric?
The boat swayed as the sand scattered.
Only then did Encrid realize he was sitting on a stone chair with a backrest.
The ferryman was sitting the same way.
Same chair, a stone table between them, facing each other.
The ferryman's cracked gray skin and purple eyes stared directly at Encrid.
Had he asked if he had walked well? Of course, he had, why wouldn't he walk?
"Even though you had nothing to protect."
"I did."
Encrid interrupted the ferryman.
The purple eyes stared at him. The ferryman's gaze felt deeper and more intense, but Encrid didn't shy away.
Before, looking at the ferryman had made him feel dizzy, but now he felt somewhat indifferent.
Was this something one could get used to?
Maybe.
"I protected myself by not stopping."
That was the truth. He hadn't walked with any particular reason in mind, but after walking for so long, he began to think that way.
Isolation, solitude, those things weren't important.
So what meaning did this walk have?
Wouldn't it be easier just to endure and rest rather than push through?
Why is he even walking?
Why indeed.
To live uncomfortably rather than die comfortably.
That was the answer he had reached.
It wasn't a profound realization. It was just a regular thought.
It wasn't the source of his will or anything.
If he had planned to give a more grandiose answer, he could have simply said he was walking to protect himself.
That walk, the steps taken to escape the sand, had all been to protect himself.
Encrid spoke, and after a brief silence, the ferryman muttered.
"…To protect oneself as well."
To Encrid, the ferryman's words sounded as though they came from far away.
As the ferryman's voice faded, the sand turned into black water, and the boat dispersed like smoke.
Encrid felt a sense of floating. He rose and floated up, and light appeared above.
Raindrops fell through the light.
A pain like someone scraping his throat with a plow began.
It was so bright he had to close his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was awake from the dream.
"Are you awake?"
A face appeared before him, and Encrid felt a burning pain in his throat. Even so, he had to say something.
"Still a dream?"
His voice was as rough as the pain in his throat.
Was this still part of the ferryman's prank?
Like how he had changed the surroundings to the River of No Return? He thought he had woken up, but maybe not?
He still didn't fully grasp the sense of reality.
"I was surprised too, Captain."
The person said.
A name from Encrid's memory surfaced. A name from one of his hunters.
Enri, a plains hunter, a friend who had retired to live with the widow from the flower shop.
Some memories are so vivid they never fade, and his name was one of them.
"Why are you here?"
His words were short. Speaking even a few words felt as exhausting as wielding a sword for three days and nights.
The desert's scorching heat and cold nights drained his energy endlessly, and the resulting dehydration easily led to symptoms of heatstroke.
Even for a Knight, entering the Western desert unprepared was a suicidal act.
A real Knight would have somehow survived, but still.
According to Enri's common sense, the desert was where even Knights could die.
But from that desert, someone had come out in a half-dead state, and that person was Encrid.
"If I were to explain why I'm here, it would take two books."
Encrid nodded and immediately passed out again.
Enri, seeing his Captain like that, fetched water and began tidying up the surroundings.
This was a village near an oasis at the edge of the desert.
It was a place where magical beasts and monsters were rare, so the walls weren't very high.
It was a place where criminals and hunters gathered.
The reason Enri was here was simple—Krona.
After being rejected by the widow from the flower shop, Enri had worked as a guard for a merchant caravan for a while.
His archery skills and cautious nature had earned him good reviews as a guard.
Because of this, Enri had also developed an eye for trade routes.
In the meantime, he had heard stories about the West, tales of how a person could become wealthy by obtaining a few gems.
But was that really possible?
In the first place, stories always become exaggerated as they are passed on.
After asking around, he found that while he wouldn't get rich, hunting could earn him precious gems, and trading Western specialties could help him start a business.
So, Enri invested all his savings to buy a velopter and set out.
He had some confidence.
While most people relied on luck, Enri had studied animal behavior.
And that wasn't all.
If things went well, he thought he might be able to start a new life here.
Starting a trade caravan had been Enri's dream ever since the widow had rejected him.
That was how, while wandering near the desert, he had found Encrid.
It was a place where skull monsters frequently appeared.
Adventurers, explorers, and treasure hunters who didn't know any better would enter the desert and die, becoming skull monsters.
And in the midst of them, Encrid had appeared.
At first, Enri thought he was a monster.
His gaunt eyes and dry appearance made him look like a dehydrated mummy. But his eyes still shone. Bright and clear blue.
"What's going on?"
Enri had been surprised, but without hesitation, he gave up on the precious fox gem and saved Encrid.
The moment he saw those eyes, he recognized him at once. His gear was different, and his atmosphere had changed, but he recognized him immediately.
Sometimes, there are people or events in life that you never forget, even after experiencing them just once.
Why did he save him? His body moved before his mind could reason it out.
At one point, he had owed his life to this man.
So, there were no regrets.
Encrid opened his eyes again two days later.
By then, Rem and the Westerners had arrived at the small oasis village.
"I thought you were dead."
Encrid, whose throat had now healed, replied.
"I nearly was."
In reality, he had died countless times, but they didn't know that, so it seemed as if he was just someone blessed with endless luck.
"Oh, honorable and lucky warrior."
That was why the chieftain gave him that strange title.
Encrid didn't take it seriously.
He just reflected on what he had realized while walking alone and wandering.
He had been isolated, and the ferryman had told him to walk in solitude, but even in such circumstances, it seemed he had instinctively continued his training.
Upon waking and regaining his senses, he realized that was the case.
Along with a Knight's strike, he had come to some sort of realization.
What path should he take to truly become a Knight?
He could now see the path.
More clearly than ever before.
Wandering through the desert had helped him. The act itself was like watering the fruit of experience.
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