It's another new volume, please collect it!!! By the way, why do you feel more convenient when you don't write about the protagonist?

The strong wind rolled up yellow sand to cover the sky, and the surroundings were dark, as if night was coming.

Connor Brandik arched like a shrimp, moving forward in the strong wind. The sand and gravel rolled up by the strong wind hit him, making a dull sound. Under the robe blown by the wind was a piece of gray half-body armor. After several days of trekking, it was covered with a thick layer of sand and soil, no longer as dazzling as silver as before. Connor Brandik spit out a mouthful of saliva full of sand, wrapped it tightly, pulled the brim of the hat down, and then looked up at the yellow sand all over the sky. It was like a thick wall of sand, Connor Brandik thought to himself, isolating the two worlds.

The strong wind became more and more arrogant, like a knife cutting an axe, howling in Connor Brandik's ears. The yellow sand had formed a terrifying wave that reached the sky, and rushed towards him fiercely. He was like a weak candlelight in the wind, shaking. Connor Brandik had no choice but to stop. He jumped off the dune before the jumping huge stone hit him, and temporarily rested on the side of the leeward.

Countless sand rolled down from the dunes, and soon a thick layer of his hood and shawl was accumulated. A stone suddenly fell from the sky and happened to hit his shoulders. The armor made a thud. He secretly annoyed that he was defeated by fatigue and became lazy - this would be fatal, he warned himself - while quickly getting up, using gravel and gravel to create a low barrier at the bottom of the windless dunes, curling up behind the barrier. He looked up at the sky and saw countless sands and stones whizzing past his head.

When will this sandstorm stop? Connor Brandik thought distressedly. The climate in the Black Forest Sand Sea is unpredictable. The sandstorm is unpredictable, and the mountain torrents can rush in the blink of an eye. A storm like this may last for only a dozen minutes or a few days. Connor Brandik blinked his dry eyes, feeling that time was passing extremely slowly, and he was anxious.

Agitation is our enemy, and Connor, the red-robed monk told him that patience, waiting, and detour are our motto.

Connor Brandik remembers that he was still in the temple at that time. He held a wooden gun, and in front of him was a wooden man who could not fight back - so he thought.

"He won't move," he retorted, "I just need a single shot to knock it down."

"Then you try."

He rushed forward with a gun, and the first time he hit the wooden man's chest. He cheered and turned around to exert force. All his strength was gathered together. The next time he planned to defeat the enemy with one move. He stared at the wooden man's throat and the wooden gun stabbed out. With a thud, the pine wood gun suddenly exploded from it. The wooden chips hit him in the face without any mercy. He staggered forward in horror. The wooden man's arm hit his chest hard, hitting him to the ground. He was at a loss.

"You have used too much strength." The monk from the red robe pointed out, "It's easy to break just now."

Connor Brandik's ear echoed the words of the red-robed monk. "Never forget what you are pursuing. Our search is for inner peace. Your sword is not dancing for killing." Before he left the temple, the red-robed monk put his palm on his chest. "Connor, faith is in the heart."

Faith is in the heart. Connor Brandik chewed it carefully, and then he entered meditation in a lying sideways.

Something was always in his brain, and he saw it again.

It has no specific image, nor does it refer to in reality. He believes that once it is out of dreams, it cannot survive at all. It is nagging, repeating it over and over again, and he feels like it is a kind of bewitching voice and sentence. He cannot understand it. He believes that it is some ancient language, belonging to the language of some tribes that have been swallowed in the sea of ​​sand and have disappeared.

Connor Brandik tried his best to open his eyes, and only saw a certain illusory monster like a black mud. It was twisting, as if it was a monster in another plane, as if it was a translucent part of its belly. Looking through the black mist film, Connor Brandik saw certain buildings, which were hung with ice edges, and exuded a black luster as if bathed in the sun. In his memory, he had only seen something that looked like this - obsidian, a strange magical substance.

The lonely warrior in the sea of ​​sand tried to get closer, but the film suddenly became blurred. A command-like murmur sounded in his ears. He didn't understand what it meant, but he guessed what it meant. He opened his eyes.

The sea of ​​sand at night is densely covered with stars, extremely quiet. Connor Brandik stood on the hill and looked up at the galaxy. He was stripped away, spreading his arms, and bathed in the stars. His body was trembling with the cold wind at night, but his feet were touching the still hot sand. He took a deep breath and suddenly let out a shout. The sound shook the sky and the earth, as if even the clouds at night dissipated in fear. With the moon hanging high in the sky, he closed his eyes and punched a set of boxing on the gravel - this was his practice. He never stopped walking alone on the sea of ​​sand.

One punch; the monk in red robe once said, follow the guidance of his heart. Another punch; it is his beacon. He stepped on his legs and punched him again; it tells you what path to go... His punch was faster than his punch, and the sand under his feet rose up, forming a wind whirlwind around him. It said, "Go south, go south."

Connor Brandik followed its guidance. He came from the prosperous Mass to the Black Forest Sand Sea, and from the coastal yellow sand city to the inland quicksand field. His steps did not stop. He walked for a full month, and the voice still urged him to "go south".

Where was ahead? He didn't know and had nowhere to ask. He could only follow the teachings of the monks in red, hand over his destiny to his heart, and to the voice that was endless in his heart - the God he worshiped.

When the sun was at its peak at noon, Connor Brandik rested under a dead alder. A broken blanket was placed on the tree branch, forming a narrow shadow. He sat cross-legged and unscrewed the kettle. There was no drop of water left. To be precise, there was no drop of water inside from three days ago, but he didn't seem to worry about it at all. He took out a dry cake from the bag and chewed it in small mouthfuls, allowing the saliva to be fully moist and hard, like a stone

A piece of dry cake that is as hard as the mouth. Maybe he should eat it later? Connor Brandik thought, it would not be too late to find the source of water to eat. While thinking, he choked the dried cake. The monk in red robe said that this was a much more difficult journey than the ascetic, but he did not think so. The voice in his heart became clearer and clearer from the moment he entered the sea of ​​sand, and the meaning of the transmission became clearer. It told him every fatal danger and also told him where every oasis was.

Now, an oasis is on the way south, where you can see it by climbing three dunes.

When the sun was west, Connor Brandik packed up his things and started his long journey again. When he climbed over the first dune, he saw the most sight he saw along the way-

A caravan fell here forever.

He counted and found that there were five people in total. Three middle-aged men, two young men, and three mules. They all fell in the shadows at the bottom of the dune, shriveled like loofahs without moisture, leaving only disgusting skins. Flies buzzed, and several lizards heard his steps and crawled into the ground in panic. A desert fox looked up at him, buried his head to gnaw the corpse, and he had to drive it away with a long sword. He pulled up his robes to cover his mouth and nose, swallowed bile, held his breath, and then squatted down to check their bodies.

There was no sign of being attacked by any guy—there was some kind of sand ray in the sea of ​​sand in the Black Forest, and he was glad that he had not encountered it all along the way—they died of water all the time—and there was still food in the package. Connor Brandik sighed heavily, and the oasis was ahead, but they failed to hold on to the end. Thanks to the gods, he prayed in his heart.

Connor Brandik buried them. Although he knew it was meaningless, the corrupt eaters would soon find their sand pits, but it was the limit he could do. Then he found some food from the caravan's goods and stuffed them into his backpack. The dead were gone, and it would be better to use them to save another life than to bury them with them.

He packed up his mood and set off on the road again.

The remaining two hills seemed to be near before his eyes, but it was not until night fell and the sea of ​​sand became cold again that he climbed up to the last hill. From a high point, there was a sunken basin under his feet, and an oasis seemed to be the most dazzling gem in the sky, reflecting the reaction of the sky, flashing with a brilliant glitter. However, in this quiet halo, Connor Brandik saw something that surprised him - a light. He rushed down the dunes without thinking, like a playful child sliding down from the sand slope, running towards the grey tent.

"Is anyone there?" he asked softly outside the tent. His voice came from a distance from the vast sea of ​​sand.

"I've been waiting for you for a long time, the desert rider." The voice of an old woman sounded inside. She coughed violently for a moment like a torn bellows in a blacksmith shop. "Come in." She said, "Come in quickly, there is tea and wine here."

Connor Brandik wondered how the other party knew he would come. He hesitated for a moment, and finally followed the impulse in his heart, opened the curtain and walked in.

The tent was not too big. Connor Brandik had to bend over to prevent his head from touching the top. There was a dim oil lamp inside, with hundreds of white cloth strips hanging down. An old woman sat cross-legged inside, hiding in the shadows of countless cloth strips. Connor Brandik could only see her wrinkled cheeks and a pair of bright eyes that were not like the old man.

"Hello." He asked politely. "Who are you? Why do you live here?"

She looks like an astrological witch, but how can she live alone in the depths of the uninhabited sand sea?

"I'm waiting for someone sent to you," said the old woman, "but I didn't expect them to choose you."

Connor Brandik was surprised, "You know I...will someone come here?"

"Of course I know." said the old woman, "God knows everything. As his devout believer, we will know everything."

"You mean..." The voice deep in my heart was God's murmur? "But why did you choose me and what did you want me to do?"

"Wait, wait patiently." The old woman stretched out her right hand and pulled off a piece of black cloth on the table. Rona Brandik then noticed that under the black cloth was a black crystal the size of a fist. "Obsidian?"

"It's it." The old woman seemed to see through his heart, "It can predict and show the future. When God is still there, God also uses it to communicate with his believers."

He was shocked and he couldn't say anything. "You mean..."

“I saw the future that God revealed to us…”

"future?"

"Blood and Frost." Every word the old woman said made him tremble. "Revenge and Su Sheng."

"I... what can I do?" He was frightened. "I'm just so ordinary..."
Chapter completed!