Chapter 18

The Mott Tribe riding Arkelon possessed exceptional abilities in production and enhancement.

They were individuals who would receive extraordinary Treatment if they entered Neo Seoul.

Such talented people were all mobilized to stabilize the crayon.

Not only that—they completely disassembled it, repaired the damaged parts, and restored it to a state like new.

Keily attempted to apply new enchantments, but the crayon already had countless enchantments layered upon it, leaving no room to add more.

With an expression of disbelief, Keily asked Pavilsah,

"What exactly is this sword? I've never seen anything like it. Was it really made by a human?"

"The crayon is a masterpiece born from one man's obsession."

"A human really made this?"

"Yes."

"Who in the world?"

"Crayon."

"…What?"

"Crayon made this sword."

"So the sword has the same name as its creator?"

"That's right."

"But why—"

"Enough! I can't tell you any more."

"Ah…"

At Pavilsah's firm cutoff, Keily looked disappointed.

Pavilsah sheathed the crayon and headed toward Deioden.

Deioden had already finished preparing to leave and was waiting. Zeon stood beside him.

Handing over the crayon, Pavilsah said,

"It's been restored to almost brand-new condition."

"Thank you."

Pavilsah flinched at Deioden's words.

It was the first time in a hundred years he had heard such a thing.

Deioden was not someone who ever expressed gratitude.

He believed everyone in the world—including himself—was worthless, undeserving of respect. Pavilsah was no exception.

The fact that he had just said "thank you" was, in itself, astonishing.

Pavilsah spoke cautiously,

"You're talking like someone we'll never see again."

"We probably won't meet again while alive."

"…Hmm."

"Live well, Pavilsah. And thank you for everything."

With a faint smirk, Deioden rose.

Pavilsah was momentarily overwhelmed by his presence and couldn't say anything.

It had been a long time since he had been rendered speechless like this.

After watching Deioden for a moment, he instructed Keily to bring several items.

A safety tent that concealed one's presence from demonic beasts, a dagger with enhanced cutting power, a large jar for carrying water, and magic stones that could be used as currency—essential items for survival in the desert.

"Take them. They may not seem like much help, but someday they'll come in handy."

Deioden glanced at the items, then spoke to Zeon,

"I don't need them. Put everything into your subspace."

"Yes!"

Zeon infused mana into his gauntlet, activating his subspace.

The subspace swallowed all the items at once.

Zeon looked at his gauntlet with fascination.

At that moment, Keily spoke,

"Oh, right! This too."

What she handed to Deioden was a breastplate made from the shell of a Queen Wolf Ant.

It protected the chest and abdomen perfectly while allowing full freedom of movement.

Though it hadn't been enchanted due to lack of time, its defensive capability alone was exceptional.

Deioden said,

"Give that to him."

"Oh, right! This was Zeon's."

"Yeah. That idiot still can't even take care of himself, so I have no choice but to keep him alive with gear."

"Got it."

Without asking further, Keily handed the breastplate to Zeon.

"Here."

"Ah, thank you."

Zeon accepted it.

Someone else might have felt their pride hurt—but Zeon was simply grateful to have another means to protect his life.

Just as Deioden said, he still wasn't strong enough to protect himself.

Until he became stronger, he needed equipment like this.

Especially after the fight with the scavengers, he had realized how necessary protection was.

Zeon wore the breastplate under his robe.

Even that alone made him feel much more secure.

Deioden spoke,

"Let's go."

"Yes!"

With that, Zeon stepped down from Arkelon.

Pavilsah and Keily watched the two figures walk away.

Neither of them looked back as they disappeared into the distance.

As they finally vanished from sight, Keily asked Pavilsah,

"Grandfather."

"What is it?"

"Why are you doing so much for him? Did he blackmail you or something?"

The Pavilsah she knew wasn't someone who would give so much or show such consideration to anyone.

To him, the most important thing had always been his own tribe.

Everyone else was merely a means to an end.

So she couldn't understand why he was treating Deioden this way.

Pavilsah's answer was simple.

"The world—and I—owe him a debt."

"A debt?"

"Everyone, including me, turns away from the truth and lives like cowards. But he is different."

"What do you mean?"

"He alone faces the truth and keeps moving forward. For a hundred years, no less. How could I not respect such a man? He is the only person I both respect… and fear."

"I don't understand what you're saying, grandfather."

"You don't need to. It's a truth I don't want to tell you. But promise me one thing."

"What is it?"

"Zeon is someone Deioden personally chose as a companion. If you ever meet him again, help him. That's the only way we can repay even a fraction of the debt we owe Deioden."

Pavilsah's tone was so heavy that Keily didn't dare ask any further.

＊＊＊

After leaving Arkelon, Deioden and Zeon headed east.

Deioden still hadn't told Zeon their destination. He simply walked forward in silence.

Zeon didn't ask either.

By now, he was just following Deioden out of habit.

They walked through the desert all day, yet Zeon didn't feel tired.

The sand itself carried him forward.

All Zeon had to do was manage his mana so it wouldn't run out. That alone was difficult—but he had grown used to it.

Mana was a curious thing—the more he used it, the more its capacity gradually increased.

Because of that, Zeon made a habit of completely exhausting his mana before resting.

He continuously used Sand Blaster, Sand Missile, and his sand control, increasing his proficiency.

The battle with the scavengers had been a turning point that made him realize his limitless potential.

He constantly replayed the fight in his mind, analyzing his weaknesses and thinking about how to use sand more efficiently.

Spending the entire day immersed in manipulating sand, his skills improved dramatically.

While walking through the desert, they were often attacked by demonic beasts.

Deioden didn't lift a finger—the task of dealing with them fell entirely to Zeon.

Having gained considerable experience now, Zeon no longer panicked when facing them.

He tested every method he had imagined while walking, using the beasts to sharpen his skills.

Now, Zeon could maintain Sand Walk while simultaneously using Sand Blaster and Sand Missile.

He had also mastered several other techniques.

Deioden watched him with an indifferent expression.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Dozens of demonic beasts collapsed under Zeon's Sand Missiles.

They were Ghost Scorpions—creatures that hid within the sand and attacked with venomous stingers.

Among desert-dwelling monsters, they were considered low-tier.

However, because they hid perfectly within the sand and struck without warning, they were extremely dangerous if not detected in advance.

Countless people had fallen prey to them.

But this time, they had chosen the wrong target.

Though the Ghost Scorpions believed they had completely concealed their presence, they couldn't hide the faint vibrations transmitted through the sand.

Splatter!

The moment they emerged from the sand, their heads were instantly crushed.

One after another, they were killed by Zeon.

The ground was soon littered with their shattered remains.

"Hmph."

Deioden scoffed and turned away.

It still wasn't enough to meet his expectations.

Still, the fact that Zeon hadn't let his guard down until the end was at least commendable.

Now, Zeon never relaxed under any circumstances.

'At least he's not completely brainless.'

Thinking that the lesson had sunk in, Deioden continued walking.

After finishing off the Ghost Scorpions, Zeon quickly followed behind him.

Despite facing so many monsters, his breathing hadn't even grown heavier.

There was no sign of joy either.

Hunting creatures like this had already become routine.

"Huh?"

Walking behind Deioden, Zeon suddenly let out a small exclamation.

In the distance, he saw a large rock formation.

In a desert, it was extremely rare to see a rock jutting up like that.

In a world dominated by sand, such a rock was a precious refuge.

Creatures like sandworms, which moved stealthily beneath the sand, couldn't approach it.

It was likely just the tip of a massive buried stone mountain—like the magic stone mine Zeon had once worked in.

Deioden spoke,

"Seems like something buried under the sand has surfaced. We'll rest here tonight."

"Yes!"

The two of them sat atop the large rock.

Without a word, they each took out dried meat from their belongings.

They chewed slowly, softening it thoroughly with saliva before swallowing.

The jerky, made from the meat of a Great Horn Hyena, was packed with nutrients.

Even a single piece could provide enough energy for an entire day.

But for Zeon, who was still growing, one piece wasn't enough.

He took out another and bit into it, scanning his surroundings.

Before long, the sun had set, and darkness enveloped the desert.

At night, the desert was eerily quiet.

Most demonic beasts stopped moving and hid in their shelters.

The desert night was dangerous—even for monsters.

Zeon had already realized that the stronger beasts were the ones that moved at night.

For someone like Deioden, it wasn't much of a concern—but for Zeon, it was a matter of survival.

Kuoohhh!

A roar echoed through the darkness.

It belonged to a massive nocturnal beast.

Zeon frowned, looking in the direction of the sound.

It was clearly far from where they sat. Unless it came straight toward them, there was no immediate danger.

Deioden paid no attention to the roar. Instead, he took out his crayon and stabbed it into the rock.

Thunk!

The crayon pierced the solid rock as if it were tofu.

After planting it firmly, he began speaking.

"My friend…"

It was a sight Zeon had seen many times, yet he still couldn't get used to it.

So he simply ignored Deioden and focused on the gauntlet on his right hand.

Since Zeon used sand as his weapon, he rarely had to physically wield the gauntlet.

Because of that, he hadn't truly felt its full power.

The most useful feature was the subspace attached to it.

Zeon stored all the usable parts from the beasts he hunted inside it.

Time didn't pass in the subspace, nor did the environment change.

Because of that, items could be preserved indefinitely.

Moreover, his subspace was as large as a warehouse.

No matter how much he stored, there was still space left.

The more he thought about it, the more absurdly powerful it seemed.

Zeon brushed the circular indentation on the back of his hand.

"So if I equip a fire-attribute item here, it'll amplify its power…"

At the mention of fire-attribute items, he recalled the dungeon where Deioden had slain the Flame Drake—the very place that had nearly swallowed him whole.

Everything inside that dungeon had possessed fire attributes.

If he had known he would obtain this gauntlet, he would have searched for useful items back then.

"Tch…"

There was no use regretting it now, so Zeon clicked his tongue.

Just then—

Kwoooaaar!

"This way!"

"Head over there!"

Along with the roar of a beast, urgent human voices rang out.

Moments later, four figures emerged through the darkness.

But something about them was strange.

They looked human, with sun-browned skin and clothes made from monster hides.

Yet their sharply pointed ears and violet eyes were clearly not human.

"…A different race?"