The depression was far from flat.
Spanning a hundred meters in diameter, it formed a vast, inverted cone.
Its surface was covered by a reflective layer of white salt crust.
This hollow had been carved out by the evaporation of a salt marsh, leaving high concentrations of salt crystals hidden beneath.
Konehl-Ghervil found herself baffled by how Dowo-Hawk had managed to convince the guards to undertake such arduous manual labor.
Even after witnessing the fate of two of their companions, they still seemed willing to exert themselves fully on his behalf.
Ishmele-Esli, in contrast, had little to do beyond surveying the environment and maintaining a watchful perimeter.
“I hadn’t intended for so many people to come…”
Having finished distributing pickaxes to his merchant companions, Dowo-Hawk belatedly caught up.
Observing the guards already toiling in the depression, he cast an inquiring glance at Konehl-Ghervil.
She, in turn, simply spread her hands, signaling her ignorance.
This was certainly intriguing; the guards had plainly bypassed Dowo-Hawk, their nominal leader.
Such a group was prone to abandoning others in the face of danger, prioritizing only their own survival.
A lack of authority in their leader was the primary cause.
“Where is Mr. Dubois?”
Konehl-Ghervil squinted, counting around the group, and realized there were only fourteen guards, one missing.
“He’s at the rear, ensuring the safety of the others,” Dr. Sali replied, emerging from Dowo-Hawk’s salt-digging team.
“Why are you here too?”
“I am a local, serving as both a doctor and a guide.”
Sali stepped out from the group, her hands empty of tools.
“You all go ahead! Dig as deep as you can towards the center!” Dowo-Hawk, paying no mind to their conversation, anxiously instructed his team before sprinting towards the main group.
He intended to summon more people.
“Would Sister Govet-Ghervil like to try? Normally, I don’t bring others here,” Sali remarked, remaining outside the depression to chat rather than joining the team.
It was, surprisingly, this seemingly young doctor who had led the way.
Konehl-Ghervil refrained from displaying any surprise, lest it be mistaken for disdain.
“If I were to go, I might genuinely have to ride a camel for an entire day.”
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to; she simply feared another bout of heatstroke.
Her spirit was willing, but her flesh was weak.
Her stated intention for coming was merely to supervise, to prevent Dowo-Hawk from secretly pulling any tricks.
Now, it seemed half her plan was ruined; with his meager influence, the guards certainly wouldn’t share any spoils.
“Indeed, given the scarcity of medical resources and water, it’s best not to ride a camel.”
Sali had clearly grasped the underlying meaning of her words.
Ms. Sali must have had considerable experience dealing with outsiders.
Konehl-Ghervil mused inwardly.
‘She was far more capable than a certain knight who had spent years in The Order.’
“What’s so bad about riding a camel?” Ishmele-Esli mumbled, chewing on a ‘snow bar’ (TL Note: A frozen confection, similar to an ice pop or ice cream bar), “I truly suggest you get on and stay on, to avoid any physical issues from walking for such a long time.”
‘Such a jinx. Couldn’t they say something positive for once?’
“Give me one.”
After requesting an ice bar, Konehl-Ghervil feigned discovery of something interesting, walking several meters to the edge of the depression, in reality, distancing herself from the jinx.
“Here’s yours.”
Ishmele-Esli conjured another one and offered it to Sali.
After spending a night together, the two of them seemed to have formed a good rapport.
Crouching behind the shadow of a wind-eroded pillar, Konehl-Ghervil observed the ‘bug-digging competition’ unfolding nearby.
Currently, the guard team held the advantage; several of their pockets bulged with high-concentration salt crystals, and three individuals had been tasked with breaking them open to check for beetles.
The angle was poor, and the severe glare made it impossible to discern if any had been collected.
The merchant team had only just located a salt crystal cluster.
“This is…!”
A voice from behind startled her.
Turning, she saw Dowo-Hawk, who had brought seven more people with him.
His gaze fixed on her feet before quickly shifting away.
Konehl-Ghervil caught this subtle detail.
Lifting her foot, she revealed the corner of an irregular crystal embedded in the dirt beneath.
It was very thin, and she could faintly make out a white beetle moving within it.
“Lend me your pickaxe for a moment, I think I’ve found something!”
Konehl-Ghervil feigned a look of surprise.
Dowo-Hawk reluctantly handed over the pickaxe, watching as what he had discovered was unearthed by someone else in a few swift movements.
He offered no comment on what it was.
“A Salt Crystal Beetle! My luck is truly excellent.”
Konehl-Ghervil’s recognition of the item visibly darkened Dowo-Hawk’s expression.
“Mr. Dowo-Hawk, you truly are my lucky star. The moment you arrived, I found one, and it’s quite a large one at that.”
With her right hand, still holding the salt crystal, she hooked the pickaxe and offered it back.
“It’s good that you think so; I won’t disturb you further.” Taking the pickaxe offered before him, Dowo-Hawk gave an awkward laugh, then turned to usher the others into the center of the depression.
The merchant team consisted of thirteen, the guard team fourteen; the numbers were roughly equal.
Seven remained behind to guard the supplies and camels.
Still, it was a disadvantage, as Dowo-Hawk had only managed to mobilize this many people.
Given the differing physical conditions of the two sides, bringing everyone might have balanced the scales.
The temperature continued to climb, and the coolness provided by the ice pops quickly dissipated.
Even hiding in the shadows offered little respite now.
A little while later, as noon approached, the shadows became too small to conceal even one person.
Konehl-Ghervil planned to ask Ishmele-Esli for more ice to quench her thirst.
“Don’t you find it strange?”
Govet-Ghervil’s voice broke the silence, ill-timed.
“What?”
The heat had made her too sluggish to think.
“The guards, none of them are carrying knives.”
“Perhaps they found them cumbersome.”
“In an unfamiliar and dangerous place, it’s unwise to abandon one’s weapons, no matter the task.”
Govet-Ghervil did not share her perspective.
“For people who spend their lives in the desert, they understand the difference between a hindrance and their very lives.”
There was a certain logic to that.
Konehl-Ghervil paused, scrutinizing the guards.
They had moved to the edges, their positions widely dispersed, leaving the center clear, and digging rather haphazardly.
Perhaps they had dug enough, as three-quarters of them were now resting in place.
Upon reflection, these men hadn’t been particularly enthusiastic about digging since Dowo-Hawk had brought the additional people.
Yielding the central position seemed more like a deliberate act.
“Have you ever witnessed murder and robbery?” Govet-Ghervil asked abruptly.
“How could I? They aren’t even carrying weapons…”
Bang—
A muffled gunshot interrupted her rebuttal.
It was a man with a fierce expression and a scarred face.
His gun, concealed beneath his clothes, fired a bullet that pierced his garment and struck the head of the man next to Dowo-Hawk.
The man’s collapse served as a signal.
The remaining guards promptly drew their old-fashioned revolvers and began firing.
The merchants were paralyzed with terror, their screams echoing all around.
As they cursed the guards for their treachery, three more fell while attempting to flee.
Blood stained the salt crystals crimson, steadily seeping deeper.
Only a handful returned fire, Dowo-Hawk among them, who had taken cover behind a rock.
Ishmele-Esli wanted to rush down, but their positions were too scattered.
With his axe, he instantly cut down the two closest attackers, but then had to retreat to form a defensive front.
At least three guns were aimed at Konehl-Ghervil.
The bullets couldn’t penetrate the ice shield Ishmele-Esli had conjured; he was mending the cracks as he steadily retreated.
Once they reached a safe position, or the attackers ran out of bullets, those below would face only one outcome.
Konehl-Ghervil realized one thing: she now understood why Mr. Dubois had been left behind to ‘protect’ those who hadn’t come.