While Mishasa and Hubert’s group clear obstacles and spsh out money, Henwell is already heading south, having left the South Regions controlled by the Western Federation and entered a wless no-man’s nd.

  This pce is much like the Tule City—ruled by chaotic factions, the harsh living conditions have made the locals fiercely dangerous.

  Killings and robberies are common, and attacks on merchants happen regurly.

  Still, no one dares to mess with Henwell.

  Though the locals don’t recognize the Padin armor he wears, they’re not fools.

  Someone riding two magnificent warhorses, cd in top-tier armor, traveling alone is clearly no ordinary person.

  Henwell’s behavior confirms this to the seasoned residents of the South Regions, they suspect he’s a knight of high rank.

  Because of Henwell’s presence alone, even if someone tries to ambush him, most can’t catch up.

  Once Henwell sets off, his two superb steeds gallop at over 60 kilometers per hour, leaving pursuers far behind.

  In a single day, Henwell covers nearly 300 kilometers, well beyond the reach of local bandits.

  Today, Henwell arrives at the st vilge under the Western Federation’s legal control.

  Beyond this point lies the legendary Scorching Sand Sea.

  This massive desert stretches over 500 kilometers from north to south.

  Most people choose to avoid this area altogether, traveling through the desert is far more dangerous than any other region.

  Though Henwell is confident he can cross the Scorching Sand Sea, he’s no reckless child.

  He has ample time, so he opts to just get a glimpse of the desert rather than force a full crossing.

  The Holy Spirit Church’s map marks every location in the Western Federation with great detail.

  It’s a highly accurate map, allowing Henwell to avoid many hazards.

  Following the map’s guidance, he skirts around most of the desert.

  Starting from the southernmost edge of the Federation, he prepares to enter the Duchy of Lumir.

  Taking this route means Henwell only needs to spend two days crossing the desert before reaching Lumir’s territory.

  Speaking of which, Henwell has never had the chance to get a proper understanding of the Duchy of Lumir, their neighbor.

  That’s always been a bit of a regret for him. After all, they’re good “neighbors”!

  Vorry, Ogiro, and Ika have all made angel investments in his startup.

  But Lumir, so close by, has never shown any interest.

  Henwell feels it’s time to have a proper conversation with them.

  In a small vilge on the edge of the Scorching Sand Sea, quite a few merchant caravans are already waiting.

  Everyone hopes to band together to cross the desert.

  Though the desert stretch here is less than 200 kilometers, caution is still essential.

  The caravans are all waiting for the guide teams!

  Since the vilge sits right by the Scorching Sand Sea, guiding desert crossings is their livelihood.

  But even though they do it regurly, it’s still a deadly business.

  If they’re going to risk leading a crossing, they want to bring as many caravans as possible to earn more commission.

  A day ter, six guide teams lead over a dozen caravans—nearly a thousand people in total—into the Scorching Sand Sea.

  The column stretches nearly a kilometer long.

  The six guides are spread throughout, warning travelers about the dangers ahead.

  Though walking in the desert by day is scorching, it helps avoid many hazards.

  First, there are venomous snakes and insects, these critters usually only come out to hunt around dawn and dusk.

  With surface temperatures soaring above fifty degrees Celsius during the day, most animals can’t handle it and stay inactive.

  This spares the caravans a lot of trouble, letting them focus on making good time.

  However, the caravans will have to spend at least one night in the desert.

  How they survive that night will be the real test.

  Henwell also has a guide by his side—a man named Mbatu, who looks to be in his forties.

  He carries the weathered look of someone who’s been through life’s hardships.

  Mbatu isn’t much of a talker, but he tries to find topics to chat with Henwell now and then.

  He’s an experienced guide with sharp instincts, fully aware that Henwell must be exceptionally capable.

  Having a strong warrior nearby undoubtedly offers Mbatu some protection.

  Throughout the journey, Mbatu has stressed more than once how crucial it is to have a qualified guide in the Scorching Sand Sea.

  Henwell doesn’t argue, he knows it’s true.

  He understands Mbatu’s mindset and doesn’t mind the man’s efforts to curry favor for survival’s sake.

  After all, Henwell himself is quite interested in the Scorching Sand Sea.

  At this moment, Mbatu tells Henwell, “This afternoon, we’ll reach a pce called Life Lake to replenish water supplies. Life Lakes are desert kes, you might not know, but even in a dry desert, kes exist. These Life Lakes, shimmering amid the golden sands, are as beautiful and precious as gemstones.”

  Henwell asks, “Are these Life Lakes permanent?”

  Mbatu shakes his head, “No. Only some Life Lakes are permanent. The one we’re passing is semi-permanent.”

  He scratches his head and expins, “What I mean is, this Life Lake only appears in its usual spot during these two months.”

  Henwell nods lightly, then asks, “Water sources in the desert are precious, so there must be many animals nearby. Though most animals don’t attack each other at water sources in this environment, we still shouldn’t camp there. But if we camp too far from the water, won’t that be inconvenient?”

  Mbatu praises, “You’re truly well-informed. At desert water sources, animals indeed don’t attack each other, even natural enemies coexist peacefully.”

  A young man from a nearby caravan chimes in, “That’s fascinating, everything has its spirit. I’ve heard there’s a guardian deity in the Scorching Sand Sea who decreed that no creature may kill at the source of life.”

  Henwell chuckles, “Haha… not entirely. Animals avoid killing at water sources mainly because they fear blood and corpses will contaminate the water. This is a lesson from long evolution, etched deep within their instincts.”

  ”Also, animals don’t kill all their prey; otherwise, they’d starve ter. To maintain a banced popution—both of their own kind and their prey—numbers can’t be too high or too low.”

  Mbatu looks at Henwell in surprise, realizing this tall young man seems to know as much as he does.