Alus parts from Kayapa and his companion at the Aramathi border with Bayan. The border itself was quite bewildering. Nothing but seas of sand cut by a dusty road of stone and cement can be seen in the horizon.

Perhaps the only marker that helped them identify that they were already at the Bayan border would be the remains of chariots and weapons which litter the landscape. Some are visibly Dalreidan, albeit from long ago due to the evident difference in design and insignias, while others are presumably Bayani, Beranian, or even Aramathian. An observed might even surmise that the incessant wars in the region led to its desertification. Instead of horses, the soldier was given two fresh camels to pull his chariot.

“May Ieso keep you,” was the Aramathi governor's last words for him.

Alus thought to himself, “It probably would be the last I’d hear of that for a long time.”

For days, the soldier on the mission travelled the main road, especially since there is no other road conjucting with it despite the vast expanse of the desert. He made sure to pace himself, as well as the camels, because the desert can become extremely hot by day, and extremely cold by night. After all, the seasons in Bayan prove to be quite different from that of Dalreida. Thus, he travels longer at night, while resting longer at day. If Aramathi's landscape is monotonous, then the fringes of Bayan is even more so, and in an extremely exhausting way.

It drastically changes a normal person’s biological clock, but as Piso’s attendant, he has been subjected to working under altered schedules anyway. Surprisingly, for him at least, there appears to be conveniently placed shops with easy to recognize signs which serve as stops for travelers. They are domed structures essentially made of adobe, which ensures them sturdiness and coolness from a readily available desert material. Surrounded by palm trees, cactuses, and other plants which miraculously thrive in desert conditions, they may appear like mirages to an ignorant traveler for a moment, but they are located there in reality. He suddenly finds the desert crowded at these spots, making him think how it would have been possible for what appears to be an empty quarter of the world. While differing in sizes, their interior is not much different from each other.

“Keeper,” Alus talks to the owner of one of the larger stops he reached, “how far until Bayan?”

He feigns his inability to comprehend the soldier's language.

“Dou yuan? Yuan yuan ah?”

The owner gives him a drink and pulls out a hand which seems to ask for money.

“Nein, nein! I’m not here for a glug glug. Ah, let’s see, kluk kluk is fine for me.”

The owner laughs, “By Sawi, what do you take me for? A caveman? Don’t worry there, I’m just messing with you, mate! Of course, I understand. It’s just that it’s rare for customers to just ask for water. You know, it’s bad for business.”

Sawi is one of the major gods of Dulong Bayan, adapted from the old religion of the former nations which used to resist the Bayani invasion. Depending on the town or city, Sawi's identification differs, but he is usually associated with trials and ill fate.

The soldier looks around, “You’re probably right, but I need to be sober. I’ve got to reach Bayan fast.”

“Bayan, ah? You’re already in Bayan, or at least that’s where I pay what little taxes I declare. This part of the desert is also claimed by Dalreida and Berania, but screw them. I won't be taxed triple for their petty wars. Well, anyway, I presume you mean the capital?”

“That’s right.”

The owner points to a crudely drawn map nailed on the wall behind him, “You’re here in Dulong Bayan. The nearest town would be… here. It’s Kabakbaka. Unfortunately, if you’re rushing, there’s no shortcut towards Barangay. You have to cross Gitnang Bayan and Lumang Bayan before reaching the capital. But, I guess, if your plan is to continue through the main road…”

With a slight nod, the owner then leans to whisper, “Beware of the Beggar King.”

“Beggar King?”, the soldier whispers back, sensing that it was a sensitive issue to talk about.

They continue the conversation with the volume of their voices kept low, but the rowdy customers do not seem to notice anyway. Many of them are already drunk when the sun is still high. More so, their attention was kept by entertainment sustained by various singers and dancers.

“The desert’s always a battlefield. Dalreidans, Beranians, Bayanis, Cingis, rebels, refugees, unaffiliated nomads. You name it,” the owner says after finishing a drink with one go, “but all of them lot regard us small businesses as neutral areas vital for them. You know, when the weather’s too much to bear, when the supplies can't keep up, they stop fighting, and then take shelter here. We’re like the great peacemakers of the desert, because what unites mankind better than something to eat and drink?”

Indeed, no marks of affiliation with any nation can be seen anywhere within the resting place. Nonetheless, most of the customers are noticeably well-armed compared to some of the traders who are also crowding the keeper's business.

“Let me guess, the Beggar King doesn’t obey the rules?”

“An understatement for that rule-breaker! He’s really just an indolent beggar. What does he know about business? If any, he's the great destabilizer. Good thing he’s not yet terrorizing here, but only because he fears Dalreida or Berania would notice.”

“But he’s also a king, isn’t he?”

“Jiejiao e you, baihuai shan de. A king of beggars is still a beggar. But yeah, sure. He did gather for himself a sizeable beggar following that scavenges Dulong Bayan. I can’t say much about where my taxes go though. I’m just glad it’s not to them beggars. Oh, the horror! Dole outs for them do-nothing? Hrrgh…!”

“You say Dulong Bayan. But where exactly? The main road?”

“He knows a lot of trade goes through there, so he stifles them before it gets to Gitnang Bayan. Not like a lot has been coming from Dalreida, but there's still Berania, Cingis, and the nations in between. You better watch out for him there. Here’s a pro tip, because you look like a beginner at this.”

“This isn’t role-playing.”

“The main road passes through Dulong Bayan’s capital Alittan City. Don’t go there. The Beggar King’s got it surrounded with his hungry followers. Before reaching Alittan, a town manages the trade routes with Cingis. You can’t miss it. It’d be a safer option for a foreigner like you, because the Beggar King always treats foreigners as cash camels he can use, if you know what I mean.”

“Thank you. Here’s my pay.”

“Just don’t die out there, mate. Come again!”

Alus then leaves after paying the owner, tip included. Provided the available maps he acquired are correct, the town which the owner mentioned is called Bangan. It is still far off from Alittan, which would still take at least a whole month of non-stop travel thereafter. However, looking at the detour through Cingis, it appears that it would take him longer just to reach Barangay. He has already travelled far ever since he left Aramathi, and that took a considerable amount of time. As he traversed the main road towards Bangan, he carefully thought of his next step. Not only is Bayan larger than Dalreida, transportation options in and out of the country seem to be relatively unreliable compared to that of Dalreida, at least as far as the peripheries are concerned. In addition, not all people are as hospitable, or even understandable, as the keeper he has met near the Aramathi border.

Cingis may provide him safe passage, but what if they choose to suspect him? Meanwhile, he might take advantage of an opportunity wherein the Beggar King is not around, but what if he still gets caught due to some freak incident? The possibilities seem to be endless, and even though he has ample time to ponder about it before reaching Bangan, it proved to be a difficult quandary. Mission success is everything, especially considering that he was sent alone to undertake it.

There are times when he discusses the matter with his camels, talk with random insects, snakes, and scorpions he gets to encounter, or speak to the stars as they light up the skies. As he traversed the main road, it was quite normal to see a number of travelers and traders before or after him. However, he noticed that in a certain instance, there was nobody else travelling. It would have been understandable had he not yet reached Kabakbaka, but the volume must have increased as he comes closer to the capital.

Despite these lingering thoughts, he forged on. Suddenly, the wind picks up, and it was stronger than ever. He soon realized that a sandstorm is on the way. It was quite early for its season, but the desert has become more unpredictable as he goes on. While Alus manages to keep most, if not all, of his possessions, he was suddenly knocked out by what appeared to be a flying figure during the sandstorm. And then, there was nothing.

“Hey, this looks damn good. What you think?”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen stuff like this before.”

“Oh, darn, wait, shh shh shh! He’s waking up!”

As the soldier slowly opens his eyes, he finds a group of people who appear to be meddling with his chariot and camels. They wear ragged clothes, most of which had patches all over, inexpertly sewn with the original garments by seemingly improper equipment, and a few holes which they missed. While heavily covered from head to toe, they only wore clothing one over the other to always keep every piece they possess with them. Only their faces were bare, revealing their dark skin and black hair as contrasting with Alus’s pale complexion and pale yellow hair.

“What’s happening? Why’re you holding those?”, Alus asked as he casually approached them.

One of them nervously laughed while returning something hidden in his sleeve, “Oh, this? Like, it’s nothing, man! We’re just fixing your stuff for you! You know, we very unscrupulous people.”

The rest also returned something, each one appearing to have a thing or two to pull out from them, while murmuring with each other in the Bayani tongue.

“Good, you understand me,” Alus pats the person who answered him on the arm, “I kind of lost the main road during the sandstorm. Maybe you could help me? What’s your name?”

“Uh,” the person hesitates while rolling his eyes, “Sandstorm tough, huh? Sorry, we’ve got to…”

Another nudges from the back and whispers, “Hey! This might be jackpot! Accommodate him!”

“Alright, alright, sheesh!”

The person then turns back to Alus with a smile, “They call me Lusong. As in, dive. You get it?”

“I’m Alus. Nice meeting you, uh, Louis Zone...?”

The group giggled at Alus’s mistake at pronunciation.

“No, it’s Lusong. With the grr.”

“Lu… song… Is that about right?”

Lusong nods, “We’re all friends here, but forgive them if they can’t speak much of your language. Not all of us are… uh, educated.”

Someone shouted, “Watch it! I studied from the Kawaian School!”

Lusong growls back, “It’s not even a real place! Keep quiet back there, will you?!”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Alus interjects, “I’m trying to find the main road. The way to Bangan?”

“Ah, Bangan?! Sure, sure. We can take you there, can’t we guys?”

The group snickered, which caused some concern in Alus. Then again, being apparently in the middle of nowhere, perhaps being guided by this group is the best option he has. Boarding his chariot, he keeps pace with the walking group. It did not take them the entire day to locate the main road, from which the town of Bangan can already be sighted.

Unlike most Dalreidan towns, Bangan is not walled. It does have short stone fences scattered around the town, but they serve more like decorative than having actual defensive functions. Many of the buildings were dome-shaped adobe structures as well, while some follow the box-shape structure. They get to enter the town at night, which security seemed nil compared to that of Kabakbaka. However, instead of securing a resting place, the group brought him to the town circle.

“Lusong,” the soldier softly asks, “Aren’t there any inns or hotels here? I think I can afford anyway.”

Lusong mischievously laughs, “I know you can, Sir Alus!”

The group then surrounds him as he hears a marching troop approaching the town circle. A thousand people, similarly clad like Lusong, armed with torches, staffs, hammers, spears, swords, pikes, and kitchen equipment are being led by a man who wears a blue robe over his tattered clothes. He has a crown made of strings with different colors, and a metal staff covered by cloth. His black hair is unruly, resemblings rays shooting out of his head. However, unlike most males and some females with him who had facial hair, his face was relatively clear. Still, his face is just as dirty as the faces of the others. He then jumps over the town circle’s black obisidian obelisk, and with one fluid motion, he places his metal staff between him and the obelisk’s tip, making it a seemingly comfortable yet difficult to balance seat over the obelisk.

The crowds cheer with all their might, “Power to the people! Hail the Eminence Noire!”

Seated in a lotus position, the grimy man thunders, “Dalreidan, state your business!”

The soldier looks around with confusion, “Wait, wait, wait! What’s happening?! Who are you?!”

“Aha! Your fake ignorance is your own undoing! Answer me properly in my court or else!”

Alus cries, “But I really don’t know! Come on, sir! Please, don’t hurt me! Alright, hurt me, but please, don’t rob me! Oh, please, whoever you are!”

The man spits and raises an eyebrow, “Okay… That’s not what I expected. I mean, not at all.”

“What else do you expect?! I’m just a deserter from the Dalreidan military!”

Upon hearing Alus's admission, he speaks to Lusong in Bayani.

“A soldier?! Lusong, you told me this guy’s swimming in riches! Explain yourself!”

The beggar runs towards the balancing man, bows, and draws something from his sleeve, “Forgive me, Eminence Noire! But when we searched him, we saw this Kwan…”

Alus gasped, “Kayapa’s…! I’m done for!”

The man motions his hand to indicate his subordinate to be at ease, and then speaks again to the suspicious soldier in Dalreidan, “I see… I see it clearly… Alus, is it? Tell me everything! Do you have connections with the Bayani government? Is Bayan planning to bring in Dalreida against us with an allied force? Are you under their pay? Sing aloud, and I’d assure you, nobody would cast the first stone against you even if the night’s getting late!”

His troops laughed, some of which even hurled curses and bad names against the foreign soldier.

Gnashing his teeth, Alus responded, “I’ve got nothing against you, good sir. Who are you anyway?”

The man begins to be irked, “You’re not keen to talk? No problem. We’ve got ways to make people like you squeal their guts out.”

“I tell you, I’ve no quarrel with you. Please, give me the hat back and let me go on my way.”

“You want things to be easy then? If my nice remarks and well-thought calculations can’t settle it, I therefore send you to a trial by ordeal! Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, the trial begins. Until then, we’re detaining you, and that’s that.”

“No fair! I appeal my case to Caesar!”

“Who’s Caesar? A salad maker? Whatever… here’s the thing, you’ve got no say here, Alus! Deal with it. Besides, if you survive the trial, we can confirm you’re telling the truth, and so, we’d let you go with your effects. Easy, right? But! If you don’t survive, we can confirm you’re being a liar! As a result, we take everything! Including your life! Am I clear?!”

No words came from the disgruntled soldier. He can only grip his chariot and glare at the man on the obelisk. Meanwhile, the people surrounding him leapt in like a pack of ravaging wolves, stripping him of everything except his clothes. There was no help to save him from the pouring of malodorous musk and persistent grease coming from them. Soon after the deed was done, they throw him in the empty town hall, where he was imprisoned in one of the wooden cells, far and isolated from anyone else.

The eerie silence in the abandoned building initially drove him crazy, but then, his exhaustion proved stronger. He falls asleep amidst the unsatisfactory conditions of the cell. His slumber would not be long. Just as he was about to immerse into the depths of the little comfort he has, Alus felt something moving his arm. Unable to ignore this distraction, his eyes immediately open.

Evidently, a person was waking him up, “Oh, I’m sorry… Don’t fret. It’s not your ordeal yet.”

“You can speak Dalreidan?”, Alus replies with some irritation, “Then why are you disturbing your enemy in his sleep?”

The person removes the hood and the face mask covering the head. It was a young woman. She has black hair like the others. Her hair was put in a bun, with some wavy strands flowing on the sides of her face. However, unlike the rest, her skin was more of light brown than dark.

“Not too loud, okay? I’m not supposed to do this, but you looked like someone needing help. We have a saying, if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if your enemy is thirsty, give him a drink.”

“Oh really? Well, wouldn’t I need help? But I can’t be too trusting. What if you’re sent here to take me down?”

The woman hands him a cloth folded like a ball, “Is this how foreigners thank others’ aid?”

Alus hesitantly takes the cloth, and after opening it, he sees a few pieces of bread.

“I refuse, that’s what I meant. You want to poison me before the big game? No way.”

Or at least that was what he said. However, his stomach disagrees as it grumbles shortly after. The woman giggles while taking a seat beside him, on the opposite side of the wood bars.

“You were saying?”

The prisoner sighs and sniffs the bread, “On second thought… How’d you get these past the guards?”

“A girl has her ways,” she winks, “By the way, you’re Alus, yes? You can call me Kisira.”

Alus did not respond, causing her to think he might have suffered from something. However, upon closer examination at the relatively dim cell, he can be seen already partaking the bread.

As Alus munches, Kisira continues with a smile, “Pretty good for some tasteless bread, isn’t it?”

She then slowly lifts her trousers, revealing a waterskin tied to her leg. As she unties the waterskin and hands it over, she realizes how Alus almost stops chewing while staring at her leg.

“What?”, she shrugs, “Never seen a girl’s leg before? You military men are hopeless.”

He snaps the waterskin away and drinks from it before speaking, “Hey! I’m no hopeless romantic. It’s just that your people don’t look, well... Maybe I could say, nourished?”

“You talk big for yourself, foreigner,” she laughs, “Of course, I’m just humoring you. Besides, you’d better be in the right psyche when you fight tomorrow.”

“Fight? What fight? I thought I was facing a fair trial?”

“Oh, please. You wouldn’t expect the Beggar King to conduct a fair trial like your country does.”

Alus shook his head, “Wait, you mean the grimy one on the obelisk?”

“Isn’t it obvious? He’s our Eminence Noire, the Beggar King.”

“But I thought this is Bangan and…?”

“It’s safe from him? Absolutely, this is Bangan. But we beggars just took over the town.”

“Unbelievable! Is this how weak the Bayani government has become?”

“Probably so. The Bayani King is too focused in his campaigns against Kihon, the fabled islands of gold, that he forgot this vast expanse of desert that serves as the buffer zone with Dalreida.”

“And the fight?”

“Oh, yes. You see, a trial by ordeal can take many enjoyable forms. You can be tied to a large stone and thrown to the water. You can be tied to a tree until you melt under the desert sun, or be eaten by insects, whichever comes first. You can be tied to a stake and burned alive.”

“I get it. I know what an ordeal is. But what kind of fight would it be? And how do you know all these?”

“I told you, a girl has her ways.”

“Somehow, I find that laughable. It sounds like a slogan I saw somewhere.”

“You won’t be laughing when you hear the rest of it. The ordeal is called the Eighteen Staffs Subduing Heaven. The beggars hold this belief that heaven is a sphere supported by eighteen staffs, and one can only reach heaven by overcoming all eighteen staffs. Only the worthy can reach heaven. This is translated in our earthly analogy as the one worthy to continue living.”

While still chewing, the prisoner asks, “Are you saying I have to face against eighteen staff adepts?”

Kisira nods, “They’re no ordinary warriors, either. They’re all trained under the militant wing of the Beggar Way, his Eminence Noire’s valued philosophy. Thinking about it, I wonder why you even have to go.”

“What do you mean? I’ve a technique of my own, too.”

“Because you look trained in the sword, but not much elsewhere. I don’t mean to offend you when I say this. Actually, the trial mandates you to defeat them all by using a staff yourself. It’s like he just wants you to be the community’s clown for a day. It’s hopeless.”

Alus was visibly shaken, “You mean to tell me, I’ve to fight them with their own weapons?”

“That’s right. Do you think you can…?”

“Nothing better!”

“Wait, are you mad? I know we just met, but are you so eager to lose everything?”

The prisoner makes a sharp look at her, his eyes almost gleaming despite the enveloping darkness, “I’ve already lost everything!”

Kisira was taken aback. She is internally divided on whether to stay longer or flee. What startled her even more was the reaction she was making. She was trembling and sweating, but she also cannot help smiling. It was as if her emotions decided to flow all at once.

“Well then. I may be a foreigner,” he continues in a calm manner, “But never say I’m ungrateful. Thank you. Truly. I will not forget your hospitality, Kisira.”

She slowly nods, takes the waterskin back, and then hastily covers up before running away from the cell. Meanwhile, Alus moves away from the wood bars, and uncomfortably sits on the cracked floor.

He closes his eyes and weakly smiles, “Oh, Kimiya… You said people are suddenly reminded of the ones they love the most when their final hour comes… Look who’s reminiscing just now…”

As flashbacks flood his mind, questions he simply cannot answer then just continue to pop out of nowhere. How is the Eighteen Staffs Subduing Heaven conducted? Why has the Beggar King conquered Bangan? What does the desert possess for the area to become hotly contested by many?