Chapter 70: Sand-Skiff

  Life aboard the massive, highly organized Sand-Sailor Caravan was entirely, wonderfully different from marching blindly through the unforgiving Wastes. The massive, flat-bottomed wooden wagons were essentially moving fortresses. They were constructed from lightweight, highly resilient desert woods and layered with incredibly thick, durable canvas awnings that provided constant, absolute protection from the searing, lethal midday sun.

  The most absolutely fascinating aspect of the caravan, however, was the mode of transportation.

  Zeno spent his first few days aboard the convoy entirely fascinated by the colossal beasts pulling the heavy wagons. They were known to the locals as Dune-Tortoises. They were incredibly massive reptiles, easily the size of small, single-story houses, possessing incredibly thick, domed shells that perfectly matched the exact color and texture of the orange desert sand. They didn't walk on long, vulnerable legs; their limbs were short, incredibly powerful, paddle-like flippers perfectly adapted for entirely "swimming" across the loose, shifting surface of the deep desert without sinking into the grit.

  Zeno spent hours walking peacefully alongside the massive, slow-moving beast pulling their specific wagon, feeding it choice pieces of dry scrub brush he found along the route, and completely trying to engage the giant reptile in polite conversation.

  "They are very, very slow," Zeno noted to Lyra on the incredibly hot afternoon of their third day, sitting comfortably in the deep shade of their wagon's awning, watching the massive, leathery flippers churn the orange sand. "But they are incredibly steady. They move exactly like a very determined, breathing rock. I like them very much."

  Lyra was sitting cross-legged on the smooth wooden floorboards of the wagon, entirely focused on a delicate, highly complex task. She had the priceless silver Astrolabe resting carefully in her lap.

  For the past three days, she had been meticulously, obsessively studying the First Era artifact. She didn't possess the innate magical knowledge or the ancient vocabulary to directly decipher the glowing white runes etched into the metal, but her veteran scout's mind was incredibly adept at recognizing physical patterns, mechanical logic, and complex sequences.

  She gently turned the outermost silver ring of the cylinder. It clicked softly, moving smoothly and entirely independently of the inner rings.

  "It acts exactly like a highly complex combination lock," Lyra murmured, speaking more to herself than to Zeno, her brow furrowed in deep, unbroken concentration. "But it doesn't open a physical door. It reveals a map. Elian’s translated notes mentioned that these specific devices project the leylines visually into the air, but only if the rings are perfectly aligned to the user's specific, exact geographical location in the world."

  "Can you make it show the glowing map?" Zeno asked, looking away from his new tortoise friend.

  "I am certainly trying," Lyra replied, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. "But there are thousands of possible combinations across the five rings. Without a proper translation key for these ancient runes, it's essentially a blind, mechanical puzzle. I am just listening for the internal clicks."

  The journey continued incredibly smoothly for another five days. The mere presence of such a massive, heavily armed, highly populated caravan completely deterred the lesser desert predators, and the rhythmic, heavy, incredibly loud vibrations of dozens of massive Dune-Tortoises seemed to completely overwhelm the sensitive tracking organs of the Sand-Wyrms, causing them to entirely avoid the massive convoy.

  However, the vast Shifting Wastes were rarely entirely peaceful for long.

  On the sweltering afternoon of their eighth day traveling with the caravan, the peaceful, rhythmic, lulling rocking of the wagon was abruptly, violently interrupted.

  A loud, incredibly piercing, frantic horn blast echoed sharply from the lead wagon, instantly shattering the heavy desert silence.

  Lyra immediately dropped the silver Astrolabe safely back into her secure pouch, springing to her feet with feline grace and instantly drawing her twin Elvarian daggers. Zeno stood up smoothly, the heavy, jagged obsidian spikes of his Rock Serpent gauntlets gleaming menacingly in the filtered sunlight.

  "Bandits?" Lyra shouted, rushing to the front edge of the wagon to look out over the panicked driver's seat.

  "Sand-Skiffs!" the terrified driver yelled back, pointing frantically toward the vast eastern horizon.

  Cresting the massive, sweeping dunes a mile away, moving with terrifying, incredible speed, were a dozen small, highly specialized desert vehicles. They weren't pulled by slow beasts. They were Sand-Skiffs—lightweight, narrow, incredibly aerodynamic wooden boats fitted with massive, taut canvas sails specifically designed to catch the powerful, high-altitude desert winds. They entirely skimmed over the loose sand exactly like sharp blades gliding over smooth ice, easily moving three times faster than the lumbering tortoise caravan.

  "They're flanking our formation!" Lyra analyzed instantly, her tactical mind fully engaged, perfectly reading the battlefield. "They are going to try to break the defensive circle and isolate the slower, heavily laden rear wagons!"

  The Sand-Skiffs closed the massive distance with terrifying, wind-powered speed. As they drew nearer, Lyra could clearly see the heavily armed, entirely desperate raiders manning the small boats. They were completely wrapped in dark desert cloaks, wielding long, barbed steel spears and crude, heavy crossbows.

  "Defend the cargo wagons!" Master Kaelen’s high-pitched, entirely panicked voice echoed across the caravan. "Archers to the eastern flanks!"

  A massive, coordinated volley of arrows flew from the caravan guards, but the Sand-Skiffs were incredibly agile, weaving erratically and flawlessly across the shifting dunes, making them extremely difficult, moving targets.

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  Two of the absolute fastest Sand-Skiffs broke away completely from the main raiding group, entirely bypassing the arrow fire, heading directly and aggressively for Zeno and Lyra’s wagon at the absolute rear of the formation.

  "They are coming very fast!" Zeno noted, entirely calm, his amber eyes flawlessly tracking the incoming vehicles. He didn't look for a heavy rock to throw. He simply raised his massive, spiked fists, dropping his center of gravity.

  "Do not let them board the deck!" Lyra commanded, her pale green wind Tena flaring to life brightly around her steel blades.

  The first Sand-Skiff swept in incredibly close, the skilled driver pulling hard on the heavy rigging ropes to bring the wooden boat perfectly parallel to their moving wagon. Three desperate raiders immediately leaped from the fast-moving skiff, drawing heavy, curved steel scimitars, completely aiming to board the slow-moving wagon and slaughter the occupants.

  Zeno didn't wait for them to land on the wood. He completely engaged his Flowing Step, moving to the absolute edge of the wagon in a blur of crimson silk.

  He didn't throw a devastating punch. He timed his movement absolutely perfectly, showcasing his newly heightened intelligence and profound physical control.

  As the lead raider soared through the open air, completely exposed and entirely committed to the jump, Zeno simply reached out with his massive left gauntlet. He didn't strike; he completely caught the man mid-air by the thick leather collar of his armor.

  Using his monstrous Strength stat and the momentum of the raider's own jump, Zeno simply redirected the man's trajectory in a smooth arc, violently slamming the first raider directly into the second boarder mid-air. Both men crashed heavily together, tumbling backward entirely off the wagon and crashing violently into the churning, highly abrasive sand below.

  The third raider, however, managed to land heavily on the wooden deck. He screamed, swinging his curved steel scimitar wildly at Zeno’s unprotected head.

  Zeno simply raised his right forearm, completely utilizing the dark red, incredibly dense, ancient scales of his Rock Serpent gauntlet. The steel blade struck the natural armor with a loud, ringing CLANG, completely failing to penetrate even a fraction of an inch, the sheer force jarring the raider's wrist violently.

  Instead of throwing a devastating counter-punch that would have undoubtedly shattered the man's ribcage, Zeno utilized pure control. He quickly reached up with his left hand and firmly grabbed the flat of the steel blade resting against his gauntlet. With a single, sharp, completely effortless flick of his massive wrist, Zeno snapped the solid steel blade completely in half with a loud CRACK.

  The raider froze, staring in absolute, paralyzing terror at the broken hilt in his hand, and then at the completely unharmed, smiling boy standing before him.

  "Your sword is very, very weak," Zeno noted cheerfully, his amber eyes entirely calm. "You should probably go home now."

  Zeno reached out, firmly grabbing the terrified raider by his thick leather belt. With a surprisingly gentle, highly controlled heave, he simply tossed the man backward off the wagon, dropping him safely but firmly into the soft, deep sand below exactly like tossing an empty sack of flour.

  "First boat is entirely clear!" Zeno announced proudly, turning to the second incoming Sand-Skiff.

  Lyra was entirely ready for the second wave. As the skiff pulled violently alongside, she didn't wait for them to jump. She completely engaged her wind Tena, launching herself entirely off the slow-moving wagon and landing directly onto the fast-moving Sand-Skiff with feline grace.

  She landed amidst the completely surprised raiders, her twin daggers flashing with lethal, surgical precision. The tight quarters of the small wooden boat entirely negated their numbers. She moved exactly like a pale green whirlwind, entirely ignoring the men to focus on the vehicle. With a single, massive wind-enhanced slash, she completely severed the heavy main rigging ropes controlling the massive canvas sail.

  Without the tight sail to catch the high-altitude wind, the Sand-Skiff instantly lost all momentum, completely stalling out in the deep, shifting sand, entirely neutralized as a mobile threat.

  Lyra leaped expertly back onto their wagon, landing softly on the wooden floorboards next to Zeno, panting slightly but completely unharmed.

  "Two boats completely down," Lyra noted, looking back at the disabled skiffs rapidly falling behind them in the vast desert.

  However, the skirmish was not entirely over.

  The primary leader of the bandits, commanding a massive, reinforced Sand-Skiff thirty yards away, realized his boarding parties had completely failed. He saw the crimson-haired scout and the massive boy effortlessly dismantling his men.

  Furious, the leader abandoned the boarding tactic. He quickly pivoted a massive, heavy, alchemically-propelled iron ballista mounted to the front of his skiff. He didn't aim at Lyra or Zeno. He aimed the devastating weapon directly at the massive, slow-moving Dune-Tortoise pulling their wagon, intending to completely cripple the vehicle.

  He pulled the heavy release lever.

  With a deafening, thunderous CRACK of rapidly expanding chemical powder, a massive, six-foot-long solid iron harpoon shot across the dunes, aimed flawlessly at the soft flesh of the tortoise's neck.

  "No!" Zeno roared, his eyes widening in absolute horror.

  He didn't think about his own safety. He threw himself completely forward, vaulting over the front edge of the wagon, landing heavily on the thick wooden yoke connecting the wagon to the tortoise.

  He turned to face the incoming, lethal projectile. He planted his heavy boots firmly onto the thick wood. He crossed both of his massive, spiked Rock Serpent gauntlets perfectly in front of his chest.

  The massive iron harpoon struck him with the raw, terrifying velocity of a falling meteor.

  Zeno caught the thick iron shaft entirely within the grip of his crossed gauntlets. The sheer, overwhelming kinetic force of the ballista bolt didn't pierce his ancient armor, but the immense momentum physically pushed him violently backward.

  His heavy climbing boots carved deep, splintering, smoking grooves entirely through the thick iron-wood yoke as he skidded backward, his powerful muscles screaming against the strain, the dark red Crimson Spider-Silk tunic hardening completely to protect his torso.

  With a final, massive, entirely agonizing heave of his Strength stat of 26, Zeno ground to a complete halt, bringing the massive iron harpoon to a dead stop just exactly three inches away from the terrified Dune-Tortoise's thick, leathery neck.

  The bandit leader stood entirely frozen on his distant skiff, his jaw slack in absolute, mind-shattering terror. He had just watched a teenage boy physically catch an alchemical ballista bolt entirely bare-handed and stop it dead.

  Realizing they had engaged absolute, undeniable monsters, the bandit leader frantically blew three sharp, panicked notes on his horn. The remaining Sand-Skiffs instantly broke off their attack, turning their sails and fleeing completely into the vast, protective expanse of the deep desert.

  Zeno slowly lowered the massive iron harpoon, tossing the heavy weapon casually into the sand. He turned and gently patted the thick shell of the Dune-Tortoise, completely ignoring his aching muscles.

  "It is okay, big turtle," Zeno whispered soothingly. "The loud men are gone now."

  He climbed back onto the wagon, looking at Lyra, entirely satisfied with the outcome.

  "The rocks on my arms are absolutely fantastic," Zeno declared proudly, rubbing his gauntlets. "They stop weak swords, and they protect the giant turtles perfectly."

  The journey to the Sun-Bleached Citadel was still incredibly long, but as the caravan continued its slow, steady march across the shifting dunes, Zeno and Lyra proved entirely that they were not merely passengers; they were an absolute, undeniable, unstoppable force of nature.