Sand Mage of the Burnt Desert

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]

Chapter 217

With a chilling sound, the sand around Zeon began to whirl.

“What’s going on?”

“Whoa!”

The Awakeneds who had barely escaped the reach of the Sand Mixer let out gasps of shock.

The sand within a radius of dozens of meters was spinning like a blender.

Inside that vortex were Orcs.

But these weren’t just any Orcs.

These were berserker Orcs, enhanced by the power of their tattoos, incapable of feeling pain or fear.

Yet at this moment, their faces were twisted in terror.

The sand had risen to their knees, and as they tried to force their way out, it became clear that an unseen force was holding them in place.

Meanwhile, the sand was grinding away at their ankles and shins.

The agony of being ground alive was unimaginable.

“Gaaargh!”

“Krrrghh! Help me…!”

“Keuek!”

The Orcs, who normally scoffed at pain, screamed until their voices cracked.

The sand slowly swallowed them, up to their waists now, and their screams grew more frantic.

“Kreee!”

“Graaah!”

The sound of their death throes echoed across the desert like pigs being slaughtered.

The Awakeneds grimaced.

The Orcs’ pain felt almost tangible, as if it were their own.

The screams were so intense that they raised goosebumps and made their hair stand on end.

For these Awakeneds, who were accustomed to facing death daily, this was a new and horrifying experience.

They were used to the constant threat of monsters and other humans, always ready to die.

But Zeon’s Sand Mixer was something that even they found terrifying.

At some point, the Orcs stopped screaming.

By then, the sand had ground them down to their chests.

Without lungs or organs, they couldn’t scream anymore.

The whirling sand soon engulfed the rest of their bodies.

Only the sound of the spinning sand remained in the stifling silence, with Zeon at its center.

The Awakeneds were too frightened to speak.

They feared that if they said anything, Zeon’s skill might turn on them next.

Time seemed to crawl by until finally, the sand stopped spinning.

“Phew!”

“Gasp!”

The Awakeneds, who had been holding their breath in fear, finally exhaled, their faces flushed from the tension.

They looked at Zeon with a mix of terror and awe, but Zeon calmly walked across the sand, his expression serene.

He approached Jang Yong-beom.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. This wound is nothing.”

“But you lost an arm.”

“When we get back to Neo Seoul, I’ll get a mechanical arm. It won’t be as good as what the Mechanized Awakeneds have, but it’ll do.”

“I didn’t know that was an option.”

“Heh, as long as you’re alive, Neo Seoul will fix you up. Especially someone like me, who’s considered a valuable asset. So don’t look at me like that.”

“Understood. Let’s take a short rest before moving on. Use that time to recover.”

Zeon was about to turn away when Aiden’s voice stopped him.

“Wait! The boss needs more rest. Moving now would be too much.”

“I’d like to, but we don’t know when more Orcs might come after us.”

“Ugh!”

Aiden hesitated.

He knew that other Orcs might track them down once they discovered their comrades had been wiped out. Still, he didn’t feel right about following Zeon’s orders so quickly.

“Can’t you just use your powers to stop them? With that skill, you could take out any number of Orcs, right?”

“That skill isn’t something I can use lightly. It consumes a lot of mana, so I need time to recover as well.”

“I see.”

Aiden nodded in understanding.

Powerful skills always consumed a significant amount of mana.

And once depleted, mana didn’t recover easily.

Given the power of the skill Zeon had just demonstrated, it was obvious it had drained a lot of mana.

‘That makes sense. If he could use that skill without any restrictions, who could possibly stop him?’

Aiden felt a sense of relief.

Zeon smiled faintly, sensing Aiden’s thoughts.

The truth was, Zeon could use the Sand Mixer several times a day, but there was no need to share that information.

Zeon walked over to Eloy.

Two Elves knelt before her—Lafuna and her subordinate.

Both were in terrible shape, having been brutally subdued by Eloy.

‘She let her emotions get the best of her.’

Zeon didn’t blame her.

Eloy’s hatred for pure-blooded Elves ran deep, rooted in painful memories.

As Zeon approached, Lafuna and her subordinate looked at him with fear.

They had witnessed how Zeon had dealt with the Orcs.

They knew that if he turned that cursed skill on them, they would be ground to dust without a trace.

They weren’t afraid to die, but they didn’t want to die like that—without leaving any trace, as if they had never existed.

‘Is this man the god of death? Where did such a human come from…?’

Lafuna bit down hard to keep from losing her mind to fear.

Her subordinate, however, couldn’t handle it.

“You cursed being! How dare the gods grant such forbidden power to a human like you? This is an outrage!”

His eyes rolled back as madness took over, driven by overwhelming terror.

“Ha! He’s not going to be any use.”

Thud!

Eloy struck the Elf on the back of the head with her spear’s shaft, knocking him out instantly.

Zeon knelt down to make eye contact with Lafuna.

“Why did you do it?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Why did you lure the Orcs to us?”

“We didn’t. The Orcs chased us, and we had no choice but to run.”

“So you didn’t do it on purpose?”

“That’s right.”

Lafuna lied with every ounce of strength she had, desperate to protect the existence of her village.

If Zeon found out that they had lured the Orcs to protect their village, there was no telling what he might do.

Zeon looked into Lafuna’s eyes.

She tried to hide her unease, but she couldn’t fool Zeon.

“There’s an Elf village nearby, isn’t there? Where is it?”

“Our village is hundreds of kilometers away from here.”

“You’re not very good at lying. Desert Elf rangers typically operate within only a few dozen kilometers of their village.”

“H-how do you know that?”

Zeon responded with a faint smile.

There wasn’t anyone who knew more about the way Desert Elves lived and operated than he did.

Besides, Elves were notoriously bad liars—not because they were pure, but because they were unskilled at deception.

The Elves who had settled in Neo Seoul had learned to be quite crafty, influenced by humans. But the Elves who survived independently in the desert hadn’t developed that cunning.

Suddenly, Lafuna threw herself to the ground.

“Wait! Please, don’t harm our village. I made all the decisions on my own.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I lured the Orcs to protect our village.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“It’s true! I swear it.”

“I don’t put much faith in the oaths of ordinary Elves.”

“No…”

Lafuna’s face turned pale.

She wanted to continue lying, but her mind was blank, and she couldn’t think of anything to say.

That’s when Brielle intervened.

“Zeon!”

“What?”

“You’re not seriously thinking of attacking their village, are you?”

“Who knows?”

“Please, let it go this time. For my sake…”

“For your sake?”

“In a way, they’re just like outcasts. When you’re an outcast, your mind narrows, and you do desperate things.”

‘…Just like the High Elf village.’

Brielle swallowed her last words.

The village she was born in had been stagnant for centuries.

Even after over a hundred years on Earth, it hadn’t changed much from its early days. The mindset of the Elves hadn’t evolved either.

Back then, she thought preserving their way of life was the right thing to do, but after spending so much time among humans, she realized how stagnant they were.

Humans had adapted to this hellish world and were progressing rapidly.

In contrast, the Elves were trapped in a prison of time, perhaps as punishment for their past mistakes.

The Elves had become so narrow-minded that they were willing to sacrifice innocent humans to survive.

Even if Zeon didn’t punish them, they would eventually fade away if nothing changed.

Now, it was up to Zeon to decide. Whatever he chose, Brielle was ready to accept it.

Finally, Zeon spoke.

“I’m not a bloodthirsty killer, so I’m not going to wipe out an entire village.”

“Then?”

“But they need a warning.”

Zeon turned his gaze to Lafuna.

“Tell your village elders this.”

“Tell them what?”

“This time, I’ll let it go. But if you pull a stunt like this again, I’ll destroy your village.”

“Wh-what?”

“You saw what I can do, right? I could easily destroy the village you’ve built over the past hundred years.”

Zeon didn’t know exactly where the Desert Elf village was, but finding it wouldn’t be difficult.

Most Desert Elf villages were built in large pits dug into the sand.

And anything hidden in the sand couldn’t escape Zeon’s senses. The sand was his ally.

Lafuna hurriedly nodded.

“I-I’ll tell them.”

“Then go. Before I change my mind…”

At Zeon’s gesture, Lafuna lifted her unconscious subordinate onto her shoulder and fled.

Some of the Awakeneds were outraged.

“How could you just let those Elves go?”

“People died because of them!”

“Deciding this on your own…?”

Zeon’s lips curled into a cold smile.

That was the problem with Awakeneds.

They were quick to forget gratitude and fear.

He understood their anger, but he wouldn’t let them cross the line.

“Then we should part ways here.”

“What?”

“If you can’t accept my decision, then let’s separate here and go our own ways.”

“Th-that’s…”

“Even if the Elves hadn’t lured them, we would have encountered the Orcs eventually. All that happened was the timing moved up a bit. But if you still can’t accept my decision, then let’s part now.”

Zeon’s cold words left the Awakeneds speechless.

Jang Yong-beom stood up and spoke.

“Just ignore these idiots. They’re cowards, even for Awakeneds.”

“So you accept my decision, Jang Yong-beom?”

“Of course. To survive in this desert, like it or not, we need to stick close to you.”

“Then will you follow my lead from now on?”

“Of course! Captain.”

Jang Yong-beom replied with a sly grin.

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]