Chris's POV:
After three long days of walking through barren, sun-scorched terrain, the shimmer of human silhouettes appeared ahead. The moment I laid eyes on them, I knew—this was the tribe I had been searching for.
There were four figures: three men and one woman. From a distance, the men looked almost identical—tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, with long black hair falling past their shoulders. Their bodies looked carved from stone, like they could lift boulders for sport. The woman was smaller in frame but still strong, her figure leaner and agile. She shared the same dark hair and earthy complexion—skin bronzed from a lifetime under the desert sun.
They wore minimal clothing, just enough to cover what was necessary, and their skin bore strange tattoos in twisting, tribal patterns. At first glance, their appearance struck me as primitive, even jarring—like humans from a long-forgotten age. I had to fight the urge to recoil or make a face. I reminded myself that in my previous life, people wore even less at beaches or absurd fashion shows.
Stay calm, I told myself. You need them.
I approached with careful urgency.
"Hello! I'm Cale," I said, feigning a lost traveler. "Do you know of any place nearby where people live? I'm lost. Please take me with you—I can pay."
They immediately shifted. Muscles tensed, eyes sharpened. In a blink, their casual stance turned defensive.
The woman—quick as lightning—lunged at me, sword drawn.
My body reacted before I could think. I parried, dodged, blocked—just barely. Her blade sliced the air where my head had been a second ago, catching the ends of my hair. Loose strands fluttered to the ground.
I stared at the severed hair.
"Woah! Hey!" I exclaimed, stepping back. "I just asked for directions! If you don't want to help, fine! No need to try killing me!"
But the girl didn't stop. Her sword flashed again.
"This girl's insane!" I muttered.
Inside me, the Prince's voice sounded amused. "She seems rather enthusiastic about ending your life. Did you flirt with her in another lifetime?"
"Not the time!" I snapped internally. "She's going to cut me in two!"
"You're barely holding on. Want me to take over? Might save our limbs."
"No! I need them to think I'm weak, remember? Just... keep me alive."
"Fine. But she's not pulling her punches. I like her."
Just then, a deep, calm voice from behind the group broke through the chaos.
"Mia. Stand down."
Instantly, the girl's sword stilled. Her chest heaved slightly, but she obeyed. She backed away, though her glare remained locked on me.
Thank the gods, I thought, exhaling.
The man who had spoken walked toward me, assessing me with quiet curiosity. Unlike the others, he didn't raise a weapon. He spoke in my language, his voice calm.
"Forgive us. She is still young. Excitable. If you are truly lost, you may come with us."
I wiped imaginary sweat from my brow and nodded, trying to look shaken. "Th-thank you. I appreciate it."
He simply nodded and turned to walk. The others followed, whispering in their native tongue.
"Why bring him? He could be dangerous."
"He could bring trouble to the clan."
They didn't know I could understand every word. The Prince had studied the languages of every neighboring region. I kept my head low and followed, feigning ignorance.
Inside, I was smugly proud.
"Prince," I whispered mentally, "this is the first time you've actually been helpful."
"Thank you, thank you. I do have my moments. But... don't get too relaxed. That leader of theirs? He's suspicious. Be careful."
"What leader? This is just a scouting group."
Prince replied in a sharp, mildly irritated tone, "You idiot. The man who stopped the girl? He's the clan leader."
I blinked, stunned. "What... That guy? The clan leader?" I tried to rationalize it aloud. "I mean—sure, the girl stopped immediately when he spoke, so I thought maybe he led this little group. But the whole clan? How's that even possible?"
Prince didn't even try to hide the exasperation in his voice.
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. What did you think a clan leader looks like? Draped in gold? So fat he can't move without a litter? Surrounded by guards fanning him with feathers? Tsk. You really need to stop watching royal dramas."
I narrowed my eyes at the sarcasm, but said nothing as he continued.
"This isn't some rich capital. This is the Bihu Clan—smack in the middle of the desert. They have to scavenge just to find clean water. Their leader doesn't have the luxury of grooming or parading around like some pampered noble. He leads by strength and by walking with his people. That's their reality."
His words painted a different picture from what I'd imagined. I remained silent for a moment, processing. Then finally asked, "But how do you know it's him? And why do you think he's suspicious of me?"