Pillar of Yita

The winds within the desert are tangible. As they swirl over the sand dunes, the sands they stir up take on their shape.

Mahazar Isfu’s deep-set eagle eyes watched the wisps of wind twisting overhead, carrying away layers of sand. The blistering sun scorched the desert, and the distant white walls of Quistack shimmered under its rays, this ancient royal capital resembling a barren skeleton at the heart of the desert.

After being scavenged by vultures, only jagged bones remain — at least it appeared so to these habitual thieves. Yet beneath this skeleton lies countless wealth and legends, with beautiful women and magnificent royal palaces, holding everything they covet and would go mad over.

Though, unfortunately, only in dreams could they envision such mad scenes — akin to that ancient legend where the emerald dark star devoured everything, plunging the land into doomsday.

But before doomsday arrives, the indulgent people are first driven mad.

A few sand thieves rode on sand lizards, these creatures unique to the desert: tall and robust, like all members of the cursorial order. They walk upright and have sharp claws on their toes, with rows of colorful feathers for mating displays along their backs, and their cavernous mouths reveal rows of dagger-like teeth.

These are the Desert People’s horses, unlike beasts of burden like Bargo, which are gentle-natured; they are born for combat, moving as swiftly as the wind, seemingly born to match the lifestyle of the sand thieves. In contrast, Bain’s Knights of Sand prefer using ground dragons, larger in stature, bearing the knights’ heavy armor.

Several riders arrive atop the sand dune, standing alongside the King of the Sand Thief. They are his longtime companions, which is why Mahazar Isfu doesn’t mind such ’offense.’ Or rather, as a legendary figure in the desert, who stops children from crying at night, no one truly dares challenge his authority yet.

He wore a grayish-brown patterned robe, his head wrapped in a turban, with a dark complexion and several deep intersecting scars across his face, adding to his fierce demeanor. The King of the Sand Thief gripped his curved blade with one hand, standing like a javelin on the back of a sand lizard, lips pressed into a thin line, and a hawk perched on his shoulder, a common raptor in the desert area.

His dark brown gaze quietly stared far into the distance.

Time was running out.

He pursued money and wealth, power and status, fine wine and women, but if given a chance to set a blaze here —

The King of the Sand Thief’s eyes gleamed with cruel and bloodthirsty light, as if within the depths of his dark pupils, the towering flames were already reflected — flames burning fiercely, palaces collapsing, women screaming and crying, jewels glistening with the flames, heart-stirring.

Mahazar Isfu extended his tongue, licking his dry and cracked lips.

...

Without finding Ye Hua, Fang Hong was disappointed but had to accept the result.

He first thanked the Southern Alliance’s Invoker and then prepared to leave with Luo Yu and Xiangzi. But before taking a few steps, a middle-aged man with frost-tipped hair suddenly appeared before them, speaking: ”Do you really want to know what happened ten years ago?”

At the sound of the voice, Fang Hong was startled and looked at the man: ”It’s you!” He almost cried out — the middle-aged man wore a gray Alchemist’s Coat, its woolen fabric looking dusty, one hand gloved in metal, and had a peculiar tattoo above the right side of his neck above the collar — his expression grave, gaze deep, giving off a feeling akin to two sharp swords.

He once saw this man in Tansnier, who was the ’Wandering Alchemist’ that took Yinhanz Type IV at the Sand Lodge. How daring to appear here in Quistack, Istania’s royal capital, right under the King of Sand’s nose.

Fang Hong placed a hand on his chest’s crystal, almost instinctively wanting to summon the Flexible Construct. But as he watched the man stand motionless before him, calmly watching him, suddenly his hand’s movement slowed, hovering an inch above the crystal, eventually lowering and abandoning the thought.

He glanced at the surprised Invoker beside him, then the latter again, and understood.

”You all?”

”Consider it a cooperative relationship,”

Fang Hong’s brows furrowed, was the ’Wandering Alchemist’ in front allied with Ye Hua and also the Southern Alliance? If so, was he on the side of the King of Sand, Barbaltan? His established logic began to muddle again; the Grand Princess claimed the Wandering Alchemist had close ties to her mother’s demise and even participated in the attack.

And now, this person appearing in the King of Sand Barbaltan’s faction, did it imply the attack ten years ago wasn’t as simple as imagined? There may be deeper reasons behind the King of Sand’s confinement of the Grand Princess; the initially clear answers once more plunged into darkness within Fang Hong’s mind.

Yet, as though seeing through his thoughts, the man spoke: ”I bet you think that a group of Wandering Alchemists attacked the Queen ten years ago, and I was among them.”