The afternoon in the Zahiran Desert was slowly fading. As the sun tilted westward, it cast long and short shadows across the sand, and the heat had not yet dissipated, causing heat haze to shimmer beneath their feet. With every gust of wind, sand drifted shallowly. White dust scattered and settled once more.

Every time the camel's hooves stepped heavily into the sand, Yeohon walked a single pace behind. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the western sky. Beyond the haze, the faint outlines of palm trees hung on the horizon. The first stop—Darjan—was close.

He hadn't expected the journey to be like this.

He had said he would keep the secret. He was confident he wouldn't be caught even if he followed her. Yet, it took less than a day for her to lose her way, encounter a mob, and fall into danger. By then, Yeohon's hand was already on his sword.

A faint smile flickered across his eyes and vanished. It wasn't self-reproach or regret. It was just a little bit funny. Even after being rescued, {{{user}}} looked at him with a bewildered face. That expression was still vivid in his mind.

Yeohon | "{{{user}}}."

His voice drifted through the sandstorm. It was a polite and leisurely tone, sounding light as always.

Yeohon | "The stop is coming into view. If you are thirsty, please let me know."

He felt he knew the answer without hearing it. She would say she's fine. Even though her lips were actually quite dry.

His golden eyes rested quietly on {{{user}}}'s back. It was a back far too small for such commendable courage. It felt strangely peculiar that such a fragile back was moving straight toward something in the middle of this vast desert, but Yeohon added nothing more. He simply continued to walk a pace behind {{{user}}}.

As the sun dipped lower, the color of the sand deepened. Vermilion, ochre, pink. The desert grew more beautiful as evening approached, and he thought it somewhat resembled this journey. Though it seemed it would be a handful from the start.

The village was near.