Pillar of Yita

When the second-brightest Star of the autumn night rose into the sky, Mahazar pushed himself up from the sand.

The sand still held the leftover warmth of the day, faintly hot to the touch, but that was nothing to the Sand Thieves.

The movements of the King of the Sand Thief seemed to ripple through every Sand Thief nearby, making them rise to their feet one after another. No one spoke in the darkness; their gestures were silent and desolate, leaving only pairs of glowing eyes, fixed on the blaze of lights in the distance.

”It’s time.”

Mahazar mounted his lizard.

The Curved Blade and Ring Armor clinked against each other on the man’s body, and his calloused hands felt the familiar texture of the reins—the flickering images of plunder and Combat had pierced through every Sand Thief’s life, yet never before had any raid awakened their buried ambition and bloodlust as this one did.

The lights on the Horizon reflected in Marzaha’s eyes, but they flickered with a faint chill, like the eyes of a sand wolf.

The wolf king was silently watching his prey.

The wolf pack began to move.

With a faint tremor in the ground, one squad after another cut across the Sand Sea beneath the cold moon.

Beasts galloping through the night were baring their savage, razor-sharp Fangs.

...

”It’s time.”

Achilles watched the one‑eyed man step out of the Shadow and walk toward him, and spoke to him.

Half of the man’s face was like carved stone, dull and expressionless. The glass prosthetic eye lay motionless in its socket, glinting with an icy sheen. If Fang Hong were here, he would instantly recognize this man as ”Camel Toe” of the Sand Rat Association, the intelligence chief the Grand Princess had planted in Bain.

Only, the last time he had seen this person, the man had still worn a leather eyepatch, revealing only a small strip of scar on his right cheek—quite different from how he looked now.

More fully armed deathsworn emerged from the Shadow and closed in around the man.

”You’re late,” Achilles called out, but he used another name: ”Herman.”

”Not early, not late. Just right.”

Herman spoke with a grin that never reached his eyes: ”The wolves of the desert haven’t yet reached feeding time. Before that, everything is still perfectly on schedule. Your Princess hasn’t noticed anything anyway—or rather, our Princess.”

As if from habit, he touched the lifeless prosthetic eye, lowered his voice, and said, ”Calamity will come—”

But there was no response.

The man found himself talking to the air and gave a small laugh.

Achilles turned and walked ahead. In the deep darkness before them, only the silent, towering pillars stood guard over a long hall, empty and seemingly endless. As they passed down the corridor, their hollow footsteps echoed with a ghostlike rustle, making one involuntarily want to look back, to see whether a pair of pale eyes really was watching them.

Herman felt slightly ill at ease, though he knew full well that the Grand Princess had already arranged everything, and no accidents would occur along this route.

Though they stood on opposite sides, he sometimes had to admire the Grand Princess’s meticulous ways—if she wanted to leave this place, she had no shortage of methods. Especially with the King of Sand absent, this trifling Kashan Palace could never hold her.

If not for a deeper, farther-reaching plan, she might not even have needed ”them.”

Only a pity—

Thinking of this, he couldn’t help looking at Achilles up ahead, and deliberately asked in a tone meant to provoke him: ”Achilles, do you truly not care?”

”Care about what?”

”That Princess. I’ve heard she’s sincere with you, heart and soul.”

Herman clicked his tongue twice. ”The King of the Sand Thief will never let such a gorgeous prey slip away.”

”So what?”

Achilles replied coolly, ”Marzaha amounts to nothing. The so‑called King of the Sand Thief is just another piece on the board.”

Herman paused for a moment, then gave a smile.

Indeed, in the eyes of those who had been plotting for ten years, who wasn’t?

He did not even know whether those people were human or ghosts; since ten years ago he had been receiving aid from those unknown patrons, and every mission, every contact he met was different—

He had vague suspicions, but could not be sure.

Yet so long as he could take his revenge, what else was worth caring about?

...

One corner of Kashan Palace blazed with light.

The usually quiet courtyard was, for once, uncommonly busy—

”Princess, Mr. Fesaan has assured us that the Woodpecker Brotherhood will arrive at the critical moment.”

”And if unrest breaks out in the city, Android and the Marlan Temple can both dispatch Hall Guard Knights. Bishop Faris is still on his way here, and the Believers of Lady Justice can be trusted.”

”The Imperial Guard have already slipped into the city in secret and are closely monitoring several major gangs...”

”The garrisons at each city Door have also undergone a temporary rotation...”

Messengers came and went, bringing news from outside the palace.

And when a Maidservant spoke to this point, she hesitated before adding, ”As you instructed, Princess, none of this has been reported to Mr. Achilles.”

Princess Rupert listened in silence, and only when she heard that name did her gaze shift slightly. But she merely inclined her head, indicating she understood.

Saisheer, at her side, stepped in at the right moment: ”Princess, the Oathkeeper Clan is ready as well.”

”My deepest thanks, Lord Saisheer,” Princess Rupert replied.

”It is simply my duty. In days past, the former king went against all opposition to give our clan shelter; the Oathkeeper Clan will never forget that kindness.” Saisheer answered, somewhat moved. ”To guard this land is, for us, the same as guarding our second homeland.”