Scholar Hank's Expedition

In the Nahrin Desert, the sun remained scorching.

Rowan, the captain of the knights, rode on his warhorse, his tired face looking jaded and exasperated.

He had finally returned to the castle of the Dukedom of Leo after an arduous journey. However, he had not been able to rest for even a single day before being assigned to new tasks by his superiors. He was told to serve as an escort and guide to that desert that had nothing but sand.

"O' Great Edmund the God of War, may you bestow protection upon your loyal worshippers."

Rowan looked at the sun above. The surrounding temperature, which was comparable to that of an oven, felt intolerable to him. He was tired of this.

He still had not had enough of the lager in the tavern. He had not been able to greet his beautiful wife. He also had yet to get a decent dinner before he'd been summoned and told to escort a renowned scholar who wanted to survey the Nahrin Desert.

What could there be in that sh*thole, anyway?

Rowan lamented deep down as he licked his parched lips. He sensed that familiar taste of wind and dust in his mouth.

He felt as if he was on the verge of a breakdown.

From his perspective, those scholars, who enjoyed lofty amounts of allowance from the administration, should have just remained back in their offices in the academy researching what was known in earnest instead of coming out to eat wind and dust in the desert, as well as being baked by the sun like they currently were.

Rowan turned his head around. He felt exasperated.

He had a lot to grumble about deep down, but he dared not voice anything out loud. The man behind him was not someone he could afford to offend.

The scholar rode in a carriage all on his own. The escort knights were no longer those who served under Rowan. All 50 of them were retainer knights from the castle. They wore double-layered mail armor covered with linen robes and carried lances in their hands.

They were obviously of high status.

In truth, if it were not for the need of a guide, Rowan would not have been qualified to be in that entourage.

Then again, Rowan had no intention of joining.

This was just sad.

Rowan turned around and looked at the vast sea of sand before him. He grew increasingly frustrated.

Since they were already in the Nahrin Desert, subjected to the harsh temperatures and torturous troubles, thinking about it further served little use. The only thing he was now able to do was to get those people as quickly to the Oasis Lookout as possible.

He sighed heavily.

The face of the young baron, who looked childish yet was actually cold and unfeeling, appeared in his mind.

...

Night fell.

The entourage in the desert settled down and set up camp.

The old scholar pulled the drapes on his carriage open. He walked out of the cushioned interior with his cane in hand. He looked at the darkened, winding dune and calmly said, "This is the second day."

Hobson, who had a stout frame, walked behind him.

That man wore double-layered mail armor and a longsword at his hip. While it was easy to tell that the man was tired, his eyes remained spirited and vigilant.

He was the true leader of the entourage on that trip and a knight titled by the dukedom.

"Revered Scholar Hank, please do not worry."

Hobson's voice was thick and mesmerizing. He continued from where the scholar left off. "According to our guide, we should arrive at the Oasis Lookout tomorrow evening."

"That would be splendid." Scholar Hank nodded. "Thank you for your hard work, Sir Hobson."

Hobson smiled and said, "This was an arrangement made by Duke Cameron. I'm just following my orders."

He turned around and looked at the deeper parts of the desert. His eyes gleamed with a hint of curiosity as he said, "Scholar Hank, I'm curious. Is the legendary lost city really there?"

The scholar was silent.

The scholar turned to look at the deeper parts of the desert and the winding dune before them. He softly said, "That is uncertain."

"Uncertain?" Sir Hobson looked rather disappointed.

Both men were silent.

Among the folk legends of the Dukedom of Leo, there was one that said something about a lost city.

More accurately put, the folk legendary had been around before the Dukedom of Leo was founded. It was a city built from gold and gemstone, which made it look like a kingdom of gods. It was a great city that was mysteriously lost in history.

"Right. It seems that the Oasis Lookout has a new lord now."

The scholar seemed to have recalled something and said, "I heard my colleagues talking about that before we came to the Nahrin Desert."

Hobson nodded and said, "There is indeed a lord claiming the place."

"Oh." The scholar's brow was slightly raised. His eyes looked on with some bit of disbelief as he asked, "Who has taken the place? I thought the greedy nobles would still have some sense in them."

Hobson pretended as if he was oblivious to the sarcastic jab and replied, "It was Kant."

"Kant, eh?"

The scholar was slightly surprised. His face, which was filled with wrinkles, looked rather puzzled as he asked, "That hardworking kid?"

"Are you familiar with him?" Hobson felt rather curious.

"Aye. I know the kid. He is a good fellow."

Scholar Hank nodded. A slight frown appeared on his face as he said, "He once studied in our academy. I remember him to be a kid from a decent family but definitely not one that was considered wealthy." He paused and asked, "How did he become the lord of the Oasis Lookout?"

Hobson shrugged and answered, "He was the youngest son of Duke Cameron."

"Youngest son of Duke Cameron?" The scholar's expression was one of incredible shock.

"Indeed." Hobson nodded.

Scholar Hank chuckled bitterly. Feeling rather puzzled, he asked, "If he's the youngest son of the duke, why didn't he say anything back then? I always liked that kid. He really was studious."

The scholars were focused on their academic pursuits in the academy. As such, they were not that keen on such news at times.

Sir Hobson was aware of that much, at least.

Hobson looked at the retainer knights around, who were busy with one task or another, and felt rather overwhelmed. He said, "Kant's mother was a princess of the Silver Platter Kingdom."

"The hell." Scholar Hank's expression became stiff.

It took him quite a while to recompose himself. He looked at Hobson and asked in a solemn tone, "Is that true?"

Sir Hobson nodded. "It is true."

Both men were silent again.

Scholar Hank sighed and held onto his cane. In a rather sad tone, he said, "It's no surprise why that kid has been exiled to become a lord of this place then." He lamented, "He really was a hardworking, studious kid."

"It is a pity," Hobson lamented as well.

Back in the castle, he had liked that young baron, who knew how to respect others.

Hobson turned around to look at Rowan, who was on his horse. Hobson shook his head for a bit and returned to his previous stern demeanor. He said, "Scholar Hank, please get some rest. We will ride at first light."

"Rest well, you people. I'll be in the carriage."

The scholar nodded and smiled.

However, his expression remained serious when he took his cane. He had recalled bits of information from the books he read. He couldn't help but say, "I believe the legendary lost city is more than just a legend." He remembered being ridiculed by his peers when he'd arrived at the academy. He tapped his cane onto the sand and said, "I shall prove this."