Sand Mage of the Burnt Desert-Chapter 503

Chapter 503

The ones struggling desperately inside the sandstorm were the caravan.

The caravan members were hanging on for their lives in a sandstorm so fierce they could barely breathe.

“Damn it! Tie yourselves to the wagon!”

“If you get blown away, we won’t even find your body. Hold on even if it kills you!”

“Aaagh!”

A casualty finally appeared.

One of the awakened who had tied himself to the large wagon had his rope snap, and he was flung high into the sky.

He vanished into the sand in an instant.

“Naiden!”

“Kh…!”

The caravan people shed bloody tears.

They knew all too well how gruesome the end of someone swept away by a sandstorm like this would be.

Finding even an intact corpse would be a miracle.

His body would already be pulverized, leaving no trace.

“Oh, heavens… Why do you give us such a trial?”

An old man bowed his head, crying.

He was Batula, the master of the caravan.

The caravan led by Batula was composed entirely of his blood relatives.

The one just blown away—Naiden—was his fifth son.

An awakened warrior, more vigorous and passionate than anyone in their kin.

The son Batula trusted and relied on the most had vanished into the sandstorm and lost his life in an instant.

“This is all my fault. I insisted on coming this way… Kh!”

“Father! This isn’t the time to blame yourself. Tighten the rope more!”

A young woman comforted Batula.

She looked to be in her early twenties, and she tightened the rope fastened around Batula’s waist.

Her eyes, too, were filled with tears.

Her name was Zahira.

Zahira was Batula’s daughter.

Naiden, who had just disappeared into the sky, was her younger brother.

Her heart felt as though it were being torn apart from losing her blood relative in a single moment—but now was not the time to grieve.

She had to protect the kin who remained.

The only fortunate thing was that the spatial wagon their kin were tied to had a weight-adjustment skill applied to it.

Normally, when traveling the desert, it would lighten—but in emergencies like this, activating the skill made it ten times heavier.

As expected, it was not something humans had made.

It was an item from a dungeon.

Thanks to this wagon, their kin were able to carry many goods while roaming the desert.

Zahira bit her lip.

‘It’s my fault. I should have stopped Father.’

The colony where their kin lived had been destroyed not long ago by a beast horde.

Fortunately, Batula’s caravan had been far away, avoiding disaster—but suddenly homeless, they now had to move to find a new home.

That was why Batula led the kin all the way here.

Of course, they never imagined they would encounter a sandstorm here.

As a caravan, they had crossed the desert countless times.

Naturally, they had experienced many sandstorms. But never had they faced one so enormous and ferocious.

“Aaagh!”

“Help us!”

Then two more kin were swept up and vanished into the storm.

There was no time to respond.

It happened in the blink of an eye.

Yet the calamity was still ongoing.

“Aaagh!”

With a wretched scream, someone disappeared into the sandstorm.

Clatter!

To make matters worse, the large wagon Zahira and Batula were tied to jolted violently.

Even with its weight increased tenfold, the wagon couldn’t withstand the sandstorm and was heaving wildly.

All the surviving members were tied to the wagons.

If the wagon were lifted and thrown, the survivors would die with it.

Dark despair spread across their faces.

“Is this… the end?”

“To think our final moment would be so futile…”

They murmured, faces full of disbelief.

Even then, the wagon shook more violently. Their bodies, tied to it, shook with equal ferocity.

Tzzzz!

Soon after, the wagon began slowly lifting into the air.

Naturally, everyone tied to it was lifted as well.

At that moment—

“Everyone, stay conscious!”

A voice pierced through the sandstorm, clear and unmistakable.

When Zahira first heard the voice, she thought she was hallucinating.

No one could possibly send their voice through a sandstorm like this… or so she believed.

But in the next instant, Zahira’s eyes widened as though tearing open.

Something was approaching them through the sandstorm.

A man?

Zahira couldn’t believe it.

The man coming toward them seemed almost unaffected by the sandstorm.

Rumble!

The fearsome, violent sandstorm somehow lost its power around him.

It looked as though the storm itself was parting to make way for him.

The sight was so unreal that Zahira could only blink, unable to speak.

Even then, the wagon was being sucked higher into the sky.

The man extended his hand toward them.

In that instant, something unbelievable happened.

Fwoooom!

The sand on the ground surged upward and seized the base of the rising wagon.

Thanks to that, the wagon stopped abruptly instead of rising further.

Then the man made a pulling motion with his hand. The sand condensed and dragged the wagon back down to the ground.

Thud!

With a heavy sound, the wagon landed.

The man approached the wagon.

His voice reached them:

“Sand Shield.”

Shaaaa!

The moment he spoke, the sand rose and formed a large dome.

The dome of sand trembled, looking as though it might shatter at any moment. But when the man focused his mind, it quickly stabilized.

“Hah…!”

“A-are we… alive?”

Zahira and Batula blinked in disbelief.

They had thought they were doomed, yet a miracle had happened.

Even now, after barely surviving, they couldn’t believe what they had seen.

The scenery was that unreal.

A hemispherical sand barrier ten meters wide was blocking the monstrous sandstorm.

It shook as though it could split at any moment—but still, it held against the razor winds outside.

Thanks to it, Batula’s kin regained a sliver of safety.

Zahira’s gaze turned toward Zeon.

She didn’t need confirmation.

The one who had created this sand barrier and protected them was Zeon.

Zahira was also an awakened. She could tell just how rare an ability like his was.

‘An awakened who can dominate sand actually exists in this world…’

Had she not seen it herself, she would never have believed it.

Rumble—ROOOAR!

As the monstrous sandstorm reached its peak, the barrier shook even more violently.

Batula’s kin watched with trembling hearts.

If Zeon’s sand barrier broke, that moment would be their final breath.

Zeon furrowed his brow, concentrating on maintaining his dominion.

Just as they feared, Zeon was barely holding on.

There were limits to how much sand he could control with his power.

Unless his grade rose higher, controlling a supermassive sandstorm was impossible.

If he tried to suppress it improperly, the forces would collide and cause an even worse disaster.

Against a force greater than one’s own, one must not face it head-on, but direct its flow.

Zeon carefully ensured the barrier would not tear while waiting for the storm to pass.

He felt the savage currents of the sandstorm clawing at the barrier.

If he made the shield too strong, it would shatter; too weak, and it would rip.

He had to match the storm’s flow, finding the exact strength needed.

Like tuning a musical instrument—it required extreme precision.

Sweat formed on Zeon’s forehead, and Liri summoned a breeze for him.

Liri hid herself from the others’ sight. She only revealed her form around those who knew her—like Brielle and Zeon.

‘Thanks.’

—Mm!

‘Go back to Brielle now.’

—Is that okay?

‘Tell her what’s happening here, and tell them to come out once the storm ends.’

—Got it. I’ll do that.

With that, Liri returned to the shelter where Brielle was.

A short while later, the sandstorm began to subside.

“Hoo…”

Zeon finally let out a sigh of relief.

The danger had passed.

They were still within the storm’s influence, but this level was something Zeon could easily manage.

Zeon turned to Batula and asked:

“Are you all right?”

“Thanks to you, we survived. We are deeply grateful.”

Zahira expressed their gratitude on behalf of the kin.

Tears filled her eyes.

Now that relief washed over her, she was reminded of the brother and kin who had been swept away.

Running a caravan always came with casualties.

They were always prepared for death—but losing so many kin in a single moment was beyond anything they imagined.

If Zeon hadn’t intervened when he did, they would have been wiped out.

It had been a razor-thin moment.

Soon, the sandstorm fully receded.

Zeon dissolved the sand barrier.

The sky was blue—so clear it was hard to believe such a violent storm had raged moments ago.

Seeing the sky, Batula’s kin finally relaxed completely.

“Uwaaaah!”

“Naiden is dead! Graam, and Sefio… Kh-hk!”

Only then did deep sorrow crash down.

The survivors cried loudly, shouting the names of those swept away.

Tears streamed steadily down Zahira’s cheeks.

Zeon watched them with a troubled expression.

He had seen people grieving lost family many times before—but one never grew accustomed to it.

People with lifeless eyes, their souls drained. Others screaming the names of the dead. And those trying to hold themselves together to deal with the aftermath.

All of them struggling.

“Hoo…”

Zeon exhaled softly.

At that moment, Batula approached him.

“We are truly grateful for your help. Thanks to you, we survived.”

His eyes were as red and bloodshot as Zahira’s.

Those who died in the storm were all his sons or nephews.

No one felt greater sorrow—but he had to suppress it.

He was the leader of this caravan.

He had to collect the survivors and help them stand again. But before that, he had to address Zeon.

Zeon was their lifesaver.

Had he not appeared and helped, the kin would have been annihilated.

They owed him—and had to repay him.

If Zeon bore a grudge for an unpaid debt and attacked them, they would all die.

There was nothing more foolish than angering an awakened strong enough to face a desert calamity.

Cautiously, Batula asked:

“May we know our benefactor’s name?”

“My name is Zeon.”

“Thank you, Zeon-nim. I am Batula, and this is my daughter, Zahira.”

“With the circumstances being what they are, I cannot say it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“We wish to repay you for saving us, yet we have little to offer. That worries me.”

“I didn’t help you expecting compensation. Please don’t trouble yourself.”

“How could we not? If we receive grace, we must repay it. Zahira!”

At Batula’s call, Zahira answered:

“Yes, Father.”

“Open the spatial wagon. We must repay our benefactor.”

“Understood.”

Zahira quickly opened the spatial wagon’s door. A vast space appeared inside—far too large to be called the interior of a wagon.

Within it were the items the Batula clan had collected over the years.

Among them, something caught Zeon’s eye.

A small glass vial.

Inside the vial were what appeared to be plant seeds.

“Where did you get this?”