Older than even the first humans, the Black Desert was an ancient relic, left behind from a time so ancient that it did not even have any records. No one knew when or how it was formed, or even if it was formed naturally. Some said that it was created by the people who built the Lost City to guard its secrets. Others said that it was formed naturally, over time, with the forces of the Origin Sea leaking their breath into the world. Regardless of what theory one believed in though, everyone agreed on one point.

  The Black Desert was just as dangerous as the other two Forbidden Areas of Rianra. Maybe it did not have as many Oren Beasts as the Bright Light Forest, and it surely did not have tricky terrains that kept threatening to devour its explorers like the Night Canyons, but it did have its own dangers that could not be underestimated. Like the Lost City. And the tokens that the six Wanderers had just crushed.

  Unlike the cores of the other two Forbidden Areas, which acted just as cores, the core of the Black Desert exerted a perfect control over its surroundings. And if needed, it could even urge the desert to lend a helping hand to its residents. That was how the different blessings of the desert were born, some of which, helped Wanderers avoid Oren Beasts, while others, gave Wanderers command over the near infinite powers held by the desert, and the countless Mysteries it hid.

  Sure, borrowing the desert’s powers came at its own price. Like being marked as its eternal enemy. And losing the right to live in the Lost City. But for the short while the blessing lasted, the six of them were invincible within the desert. A last blessing by the Lost City to its residents, something akin to a farewell, that made the entire desert glow in a faint blood red light.

  “…This strange feeling…”

  “…This strength…”

  “…I knew that the Last Blessing was supposed to make you strong, but this…”

  “…I can easily crush that arrogant woman now,” Verna said, glancing in the direction of the lightning shield in the distance, only for the blue robed woman to roll her eyes at him.

  “…If you want to be chased by those crazy Thunderbirds all over the world, then go ahead, be our guest.”

  “…I was just saying…”

  “We both know if you were just saying or were thinking about doing something stupid,” the blue robed woman said, before glancing at the rest of her companions. “Do not get drunk on your power. Focus on our goal. As long as we can catch this Union’s genius, I am sure that the Thunderbird would not be stupid enough to continue protecting the boy.”

  “…The old plan then?” the green robed man said. “Besiege her from different directions at the same time?”

  “…Although we have the desert’s protection now, it does not hurt to be a little prudent…”

  The six Wanderers glanced at each other, and gave a nod, before moving at the same time. Once again, in perfect synchronisation, rushing out in different directions to surround the Lady of Thorns. And once again, they were met with their own attacks, along with a blade so sharp, that it seemed to cut space itself. And quite possibly, even cause and effect. Because despite being just a single sword, it appeared in front of all six of them at the same time. And it released different Mysteries for each of them to face.

  Yet, none of the six Wanderer paid any attention to the sword. Or the Mysteries it released. Because they were all blocked off by the faint blood red light of the desert, shining upon the Wanderers the moment it sensed their danger. Not like a shield. Or an armour. But more like the blessing it was, just giving them a faint glow, that nullified any and all attacks nearing their bodies. Even the more troublesome ones, like the Winds of Fortune or the lullabies of the Goddess of Night.

  “Give up, Lady of Thorns.”

  “Your efforts are futile.”

  “Just surrender.”

  “Maybe we will treat you fairly.”

  “Who knows, you may even be able to return to the Union.”

  “But if you keep on resisting…”

  “Then you will have to bear the consequences on your own.”

  Nyssa ignored the ramblings of the six Wanderers and continued with her attacks. As those Wanderers said though, her efforts were futile. Be it the Mysteries she released, or her sword’s edge, they were all blocked by the faint blood red glow around their bodies. But she did not give up. Instead, she decided to face her enemies head on, wielding her sword like a whirlwind. Not a true whirlwind, of course. She just moved so fast, that even her peers could not see anything but an eerie flash, before noticing the ripples on the layer of light covering their bodies.

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  Ten times? Twenty times? In the time that it took for the six of them to blink once, Nyssa had already slashed her sword over thirty times, flashing between all six of them to test their defences. It was impeccable. But not impregnable. If it could ripple, then it could be broken. She just had to use enough force. And she had to be quick. Otherwise, the desert would just heal the damage she had done. Like it was doing at the moment.

  “You can see it now, right?”

  “Just give up, Lady of Thorns.”

  “The more you make it harder for us, the more your disciple will have to suffer.”

  “You do not want anything untoward happening to him, right?”

  Nyssa remained silent, preferring to answer her enemies with her sword than her words. And this time, she concentrated on just one person. The green robed man. The one who seemed more like a Scholar than a Warrior. Though the desert did not pick any favourites between the six, he was the slowest to react, giving her more time to break the glow around his body.

  Fortunately for the man, he was not alone. When he was in danger, the others soon came to his rescue, thrusting their swords and spears at the Lady of Thorns, forcing her to retreat. But not before confirming her guess, leaving another wound on the man’s chest. Yet, just a moment later, as the desert blessed its red glow on the man once again, the blood trickling down the man’s chest reversed its flow, and as did the gash on his chest.

  “It looks like you do not value your disciple as much as we thought.”

  “It does not matter. Since we will be leaving the city anyway, he would not be of much value to us either.”

  “Rather giving him to other people, we would be better off just killing him altogether.”

  “And it will all be your fault, Lady of Thorns.”

  “You will be the one responsible for your disciple’s death.”

  Nyssa ignored the poor attempts by her enemies to attack her Heart, and rushed towards them once again. This time though, she aimed her sword at a different Wanderer. The red robed man. Not because he was the first one to clamour about killing her son. But simply because he seemed to be weakest of the six. And the one with the most unstable Heart. And as she expected, seeing the sword nearing his neck, he could not help flinching, and backing away, exposing his flaws, and leaving a gap in their formation.

  Not that Nyssa cared about their formation. Or their flaws. In her eyes, their every action was rife with flaws. Another couple of flaws did not make much of a difference. But the man’s retreat did force his companions to come to his rescue, giving her the chance she had been waiting for.

  Pivoting in mid air, Nyssa twisted her body to avoid a spear aiming for her neck, before bringing her sword down on its shaft, splitting it in half, before using the momentum to roll her body, bringing her sword back up, deflecting another sword coming down on her head. And while she was at it, she did not forget to grab the broken spearhead with her free hand before throwing it into the direction of the rat she had imprisoned on the ground.

  Then, and only then, did she retreat from her enemies. But the six Wanderers did not feel any sense of accomplishment on forcing her away. On the contrary, their faces even became a little pale. The Lady of Thorns had acted so quickly, and abruptly, that by the time they could react, the spearhead had already torn a hole in the rat’s head. That too, right where the entrance to his Spirit World was supposed to be, destroying any hope of rescuing the man.

  “Why are you making such ugly faces?” Nyssa said, reaching towards her Roots, and calling for Oren. “I thought you wanted to kill the rat too.”

  “…Do not be too smug, Lady of Thorns.”

  “Do you think that you can turn the tides just because you can use your Roots?”

  “Roots?” Nyssa said, imbuing her sword with Oren, waking up its sleeping powers. “No.”

  In the next moment, an ominous breath spread from the sword, causing the space around its edges to crack from just its mere presence, while the desert below her quaked in fear of the terrifying yet incomprehensible Mysteries descending around her.

  “My sword?”

  Even the world could not interpret or give a proper form to the Mysteries she had summoned, letting it descend in the form of an Oren cloud. Or was it Oren clouds? With the Mysteries she had summoned, even she could not tell. She did not even know whether it was just one Mystery, or a bunch of them all gathered together. Logic dictated it to be the latter, yet her intuition always made her think of the former.

  A Mystery that had no beginning or end, one that existed when even the Origin Sea was not formed and would exist long after it was gone. A Mystery, that seemed to contain all the other Mysteries, yet did not even seem to be a part of the Origin Sea. Or maybe it was hidden at the Origin Sea’s Heart. At the very least, Nyssa had never seen anyone use similar Mysteries. Not even Chaeons.

  After all, the origin of the name Chaeon lay not in the Mysteries the Thralls used, but how they used their Mysteries. The Mystery she had summoned, however, was truly ‘Chaotic’ in every sense of the word. It did not belong to any linage, yet it was of every lineage at the same time. If she really had to give it a name, then she could only call it as the Mystery of Chaos. The Mystery, that came with the Sword of Chaos.

  “Maybe.”

  But her enemies were right. Just a Mystery was far from enough for her to turn the tides of their battle in her favour. Especially since they had all become practically immortal. Unless she could break through the red glow on their bodies and end their lives, all in a single strike, the desert would just heal all their injuries in the blink of an eye. Such troublesome opponents…

  “There is just one problem. I never like to rely on chances.”

  So, while her enemies were still staring at the eerie Oren cloud, Nyssa reached out to the part of the Spirit she had released earlier, and urged it to open the lock of one of the three legacies she had received in the Lost City. One that focussed solely on Spirits. Unlike the red glow of the desert, which was blessing only the bodies of her enemies, not their Spirits. At least not entirely.

  As long as her enemies did not release their Spirits out of their bodies, the desert would keep on protecting their Spirits. But she had a way to go around the desert’s blessings and attack their Spirits directly. All she had to do, was to drag their Spirits out of their bodies. Or drag everyone to a world where only Spirits could exist. The world, that came with the birth of the first Spirits.