Chapter 79: Heading Towards the Center

 Chapter 79: Heading Towards the Center

The leader of the Yellow Lizardmen was named Lulusa. His tribe resided in an oasis closest to the Crescent Oasis, the largest Lizardman tribe in the center of the wasteland. Consequently, they were the first to suffer misfortune. Hundreds of his people were scattered and killed, leaving only a few dozen relatively stronger Lizardman warriors to follow him. They hid in this small oasis, where the water in the pool was their lifeline in the arid wasteland, hence their deep attachment to it.

As they conversed with the outsiders and accepted a bag of salt as a gift, the inherently greedy Lizardmen warmed up to them, laughing and chatting as if they were old friends. Soon, Barok and his group learned everything they wanted to know.

Wald, looking worried, spoke softly to Barok: "Duke Lind has collected all the Blue Crystal Gold ore. I'm afraid we'll return empty-handed. Moreover, if he learns about our caravan, he won't spare us. Chief Barok, what should we do?" He was considering retreating, as a mere merchant unwilling to take such risks for the royal mission. Reporting Lind's activities to the royal court might absolve him of his failure to complete the mission.

Barok wasn't in the wasteland's depths just to help Wald collect Blue Crystal Gold; he was intent on finding the ancestral relics of the orcs. With a mere glance at Wald, the shrewd merchant fell silent, reminded that he was still a prisoner, his life in others' hands, without the right to speak.

"Lulusa, my dear Lizardman brother, have you heard any interesting legends about the center of the wasteland? Perhaps about magical beasts, treasures, or any interesting tales about the orcs?" Lulusa took the cup of ale Barok offered, greedily gulping it down, then let out a satisfied hiss, flicking his forked tongue before thinking. "The center of the wasteland is vast. Even we Lizardmen have many forbidden zones we dare not enter. It's said that these zones contain ruins or treasures, but they are occupied by powerful magical beasts. We don't dare approach, lest we become their prey."

Barok pulled out his crude map and asked Lulusa to mark the locations of these forbidden zones. Since he didn't know which one might hold the orc ancestral relics, he decided to mark all possible locations and search them one by one.

Lulusa pointed out a few spots on the map that were clear and detailed to him: "Here, here, and here... We've never entered these places. Not only are there terrifying magical beasts, but those Lizardman warriors who ventured in never returned. Maybe there really are treasures inside. Brother Barok, are you here to seek treasure?" Lulusa asked in surprise, his greedy nature emerging as he eagerly suggested, "We know the area well. We can go in with you. Just share half of the treasures with us!"

He had a good plan. Knowing the orcs' strength from the terrifying giant wolf magical beast, Lulusa sought to rely on Barok for both treasure and possibly reclaiming their oasis from the White Lizard Tribe.

"My good brother Lulusa, your suggestion is excellent." With local Lizardmen as guides, everything would be much easier. Barok, with a face full of 'sincerity,' patted Lulusa's shoulder hard, making his sturdy scales produce a crackling sound. "If you explore the forbidden zones with us, you can pick the best items from the treasures we find." Barok thought to himself, "Of course, if you live that long!"

Perhaps moved by Barok's 'sincerity,' the cunning and suspicious Lulusa surprisingly didn't doubt him. The seven or eight Lizardmen gathered excitedly, hissing in their unique language. They quickly reached an agreement, and Lulusa returned to Barok, flicking his forked tongue, his blood-red lips curving into a Lizardman smile. "You orcs are too conspicuous, so let's start exploring from the outskirts to avoid alerting the White Lizard Tribe in Crescent Oasis."

...Divider...

The Gravel Wasteland spans nearly a thousand miles in circumference. The outer region is covered in gravel, still arid but with some shrubs, thorns, or desert cycads. The central several hundred miles, however, is a pure desert of yellow sand. The wind constantly shapes and reshapes the landscape, forming bizarre and ever-changing shapes. What was a sand dune yesterday might be a valley the next morning.

Apart from oases, the desert landscape was monotonous, rendering maps nearly useless. Barok's map merely marked several oases.

They spent two days in the outer region, discovering three so-called forbidden zones, which were disappointing. They housed some magical beasts, the strongest comparable to the frost wolf Rak. Though terrifying to the Lizardmen, Barok found them manageable with some strategy.

They encountered three sand pythons, two fire scorpions, and the strongest, a desert wind wolf. Though a level six wind-type magical beast, it was no match for the speed-oriented storm wolf. Its sand-whipping magic, the Wind Whirl, merely made Rak eat sand. Under the combined ice blade attacks from Barok and the frost wolf, the wind wolf's magic was exhausted, and it was slain by the six orcs' battle axes.

The spoils were three earth-type sand python magic cores, two fire-type fire scorpion cores, and one wind-type core. Barok's only satisfaction was Barotan finally mastering the use of orc battle energy, no longer erratic. The other five orcs had also made significant progress, perhaps nearing breakthroughs. A small orc tribe with six battle energy warriors would be a dream come true.

They couldn't stay in the outskirts anymore. Barok urged Lulusa to lead them deeper into the center. The Lizardmen, having feasted on the magical beasts' carcasses, gradually attracted nearly a hundred stragglers. To the Lizardmen, food was paramount, and they didn't mind following someone who could provide it. Thus, Lulusa's tribe was nearly restored to its original size.

Reluctantly, the Lizardmen, having witnessed the orcs' strength, dared not play tricks under Barok's penetrating gaze. They obediently led the orcs towards the center.

The closer they got to the center, the harsher the climate. Daily, unending winds howled, lifting yellow sand to obscure the sky. In this weather, even Rak's keen nose couldn't distinguish directions. The Lizardmen proved invaluable, not just useless.

Barok's storage ring could store ample water and food, but this was an orc secret. Unless he planned to kill all the Lizardmen and Wald's humans to keep it, he wouldn't reveal it until absolutely necessary. Thus, finding water and food in the desert was crucial. Like fish in water, the Lizardmen could burrow into the sand, moving underneath for over half an hour without needing to breathe. They used their keen tongues to sense traces of moisture, identifying directions to oases or water sources. Thus, they never worried about water along the way.

After many days, Barok began to doubt if Lulusa was leading them to more magical beast lairs for free hunting. Suddenly, Rak raised its head, alert to a black figure on the distant yellow horizon.

The orcs immediately drew their battle axes, forming a protective circle around Barok. They had identified the figures—humans riding desert camels.

The Lizardmen panicked. Barok's good brother Lulusa was the first to hiss orders to his people, who immediately burrowed into the sand, disappearing with a few tail twitches. The orcs exchanged stunned looks, knowing these cunning creatures were unreliable.

Dozens of human riders quickly approached, wearing fine armor and steel helmets, wielding heavy swords or maces, and riding desert camels. They encircled the orcs and the few humans with Wald.

The usually silent human workers, seeing their kin, rushed out from behind the orcs, shouting, "Save us! We were captured by these orcs. They killed many people. Please save us!"

Wald's heart sank. Cursing inwardly, he remained still. A merchant's shrewdness dictated that he wouldn't act rashly without assessing the situation.

"Weren't the Gravel Wasteland orcs wiped out by a group of mercenaries years ago? Where did you come from?" The lead rider shouted through his helmet, ignoring the human workers. As they reached the camel's feet, the knights mercilessly cut them down. The four workers died with expressions of disbelief and bitterness.

"You serve Duke Lind, correct?" Barok suddenly spoke.

The riders stirred. The lead knight bellowed, "Who are you? How do you know the Duke is here?" They pressed towards the orcs, ready to attack. The orcs stood firm, forming a line, gripping their massive battle axes, faces fierce. Rak's huge body tensed, an ice blade spell forming around it. The battle was imminent.

"I mean no harm. Take us to Lind. He might be interested in some of my suggestions!" Barok said calmly, ignoring the riders' threats.