Pillar of Yita

Mahazar withdrew his somber gaze from the blood-red star in midair and silently looked ahead, where Kashan Palace seemed within reach. This action was like a silent command that made all the sand thieves around stop their restlessness and commotion and look over simultaneously.

”Mahazar, should we continue forward, or...?”

”Continue forward.”

The sand thieves exchanged glances, each glancing up at the peculiar thing between the clouds, the oppressive aura of which was unsettling. But since the King of the Sand Thief had spoken, they had no choice but to follow. After all, the wealth they had pursued all their lives was within their grasp, and no one was willing to abandon and leave at this point.

Mahazar glanced at everyone. ”Kashan Palace cannot stop us. Let’s conquer it in one go; the entire desert will remember this day and tremble under our name—”

He looked at the city burning fiercely, the oppressive dark clouds above it, and the strange, unsettling object between the clouds. For some reason, a thought suddenly arose in his heart:

After today, this Royal City might no longer exist.

And the history of the Istania People would head in another direction after this day.

This thought suddenly bred an unrealistic ambition in his heart—

This King of the Sand Thief couldn’t help but think of another city, Idus—long before he was born, that trading capital on the edge of the desert had already turned into ruins, buried under yellow sand. But the legends about it have been circulating in the Sand Sea for decades, one of which depicts today’s Royal House of Penelope.

The ancestor of the Penelope Family, the great-grandfather of the current King of Sand, was merely a not-so-famous member of a royal sideline, but his adventure in Idus earned him astonishing wealth. This wealth allowed the Penelope Family to rise again, returning to center stage.

Then came the stories afterwards, where after the efforts of two generations, they seized the crown of the previous royal household by collaborating with the Holy Chooser, Colin Ishurian.

Although this legend only circulated privately in the Sand Sea, Mahazar believed it without a doubt. He was born in a small village in northern Istania, near Colin Ishurian and the ruins of Idus, so he grew up listening to those fantastical tales.

Legend has it that the city once accumulated incredible wealth, but it was reduced to ashes in soaring flames, buried beneath the ruins, benefiting those later looters for nothing. He had heard countless tales of looters, especially those who struck it rich and made names for themselves in the Sand Sea.

Although he never saw it with his own eyes, because by the time he grew up, Idus was nothing more than unattended rubble, and the wealth buried there had long been dissipated over a century, leaving only those fascinating mythical legends. But since childhood, he longed for those stories and regretted countless times, only hating that he wasn’t born a hundred years earlier.

Although that was a story from before he became a sand thief, it was nothing more than a memory of his youthful days.

But the Royal House of Penelope had everything today, merely benefiting from an opportunity that arose from Idus.

His eyes reflected the hellish scene of the city at this moment, and everything of the past reappeared before his eyes. Isn’t this another Idus? Everything he wanted was right here, this city like a defenseless maiden, to be taken at will.

The ancestor of the Royal House of Penelope could ascend to the throne of the King of Sand due to a similar opportunity.

Why couldn’t he?

Thinking of this, the King of the Sand Thief seemed to have made a decision in his heart.

He faced everyone, his expression like a layer of frost, his voice gradually freezing. ”We will settle accounts with those Blind Followers for their tricks once it’s all over...” At this point, how could he not understand what had happened, but he merely drew his curved blade and swung it forward.

He raised his voice: ”As for now, come with me to open the doors of Kashan Palace and leave this place with our spoils of war.”

This sentence fully ignited the greed in the hearts of the sand thieves, and they agreed in unison, with no hesitation remaining in their hearts.

...

The gathering clouds in the sky gradually attracted Fang Hong’s attention.

In some places in the north, such clouds are very common, often heralding a heavy rain or even a storm. But over the Sand Sea of Istania, he rarely saw this situation of low oppressive clouds, even at night, where one can often see the clear sky and countless stars reflecting the vast Silver Sand Sea.

He held onto the side of the small boat with one hand, looking up at the scene in the sky. The low dark clouds had already blocked the moonlight, darkening the surroundings. A wind had even picked up in midair, lifting the silver sail, rustling and blowing his long hair, shielding his eyes.

Fang Hong brushed aside his bangs with his hand and turned to ask: ”How far is it to Quistack?”

Luo Yu silently glanced at the map, calculating the journey back. ”Less than half an hour, coming was against the wind, going back will be slightly faster.”