Cent. Calendar 10/09/1639, port town of Savdid, Quila, 9:30

“Goddammit... It’s so hot...”

Hot air and pained groans left the throat of one Izumi Hikari as she rested her crossed arms against the rails of the ship she was on. Despite the plentiful shade offered by the ship’s overhanging superstructure, there was little escape from the almost 35-degree heat that was seething through the air. Unable to carry on with the heat, she tossed aside her reservations and reached for her still cold, recently filled canteen and drenched her rapidly heating throat with much-needed water.

“Say it ain’t so...”

Suffering in a similar fashion beside her was her best friend and fellow archaeologist Kita Michi, whose usual sparkling disposition had long translated into heavy groans and runaway perspiration.

There was little in the way of cloud cover when they looked around: the sun pretty much had the entirety of the great blue sky to itself, in addition to whatever poor soul lay on the ground beneath. They were still at sea, but they were already in line to dock at the port of a town known as Savdid, one of the sea-based entryways into the kingdom of Quila, a desolate state that borders Qua-Toyne. They’ve only ever heard of the kingdom via hearsay from other scholars, indirect mentions from the Qua-Toynian natives, and newspaper headlines from back home. Unfortunately, all that they’ve heard about the supposedly desolate nation painted a bleak picture: a poor state of all sorts of demi-humans living in harsh, desert-like conditions.

It didn’t take much of a head turn to the right for them to bask their eyes on their first sight of the Quilan landscape.

“It’s pretty much what I expected...”

Simple buildings made out of mud brick-like substances with some standout complexes and walls–a scene that echoes the West African Sahel region. There was some vegetation here and there, most prominently trees and shrubbery, but it was a stark contrast–a far cry even–from the luscious green forests they’ve seen back in Qua-Toyne. The port was less deserted; there were many fishing boats of all shapes and sizes populated by muscular beastmen hauling their catch off their vessels and onto the . However, much like the port of Myhark, Savdid was not free from the grip of the near omnipresent shadow of Japanese expansion.

“A beautiful native port town... if not for the countless cargo ships, burgeoning modern port facilities, and that.”

Past the long queue of cargo ships and tankers was a massive construction complex off to the port’s east, complete with workers, heavy equipment, and even sky-high cranes that dwarfed the native Savdid settlement next door. From what it looks like, it appears that it was going to be some sort of oil facility, presumably to exploit the seemingly ceaseless deposits of non-renewables found in the state. Though how much of this was fairly and justly brokered with the native authorities of Quila remains to be seen to them.

“I know that it’s hot and that there are many sights to behold, but we have to focus on the objective at hand.”

Their red-haired Italian friend, Cecilia, walks up to the two and joins in on the sightseeing with her camera, very much in contrast to what she just said.

“Right. Site X–no, Krko...”

“Mhm... There’s nothing much to go on about it other than the few black and white pictures we’ve been given.”

They returned back to their room from the sweltering heat of the outside, turning on the A/C before proceeding to review what they’ve studied so far. Kita picks up some of the old photographs of Krko.

“Say... what do we know about the origins of these pictures again?”

“The ministry says they’ve retrieved these as copies from the originals held by the Qua-Toynian princess, who then claims to have gotten them from a joint Mirishial–Muish expedition into Quila decades ago.”

“Mirishial? Muish?... Oh right, they’re the big boys ‘round here.”

“Yeah. Other than that, it’s just whatever’s on the pictures.”

They’ve already examined what they could of the photographs. Despite the grainy pictures and the horrible grayscale, there were enough details to say that Krko was in fact a ruined settlement that had the hallmarks of the mixed Western-Japanese architectural style of an early Showa period town. There were what appeared to be traditional Japanese houses next to magnificent stone buildings built in the Western style. Some of the buildings even appeared to have writings, although the photographs could only provide so much clarity. Other than these, they could infer that–at least some decades ago–that Krko was pretty much surrounded by desert, if not partially swallowed by it.

“D’you think it’s possible we could inquire as to the nature and findings of this earlier expedition?”

“I don’t think we’ve made diplomatic contact with either of the two yet–at least not that I know of. In any case, we’ll ask once we land.”

“That leaves the trinkets the High Priest back in the Sanctum showed us.”

Cecilia then proceeds to open her laptop to access the pictures she’s taken as Izumi and Kita huddle up next to her. Scrolling past her countless pictures of the scenery, buildings, and people, she then enlarges several key photographs of the devices Edyrm had allowed them to examine.

“To be honest–yeah, there’s a lot we could take from these, but...”

The devices that the Sanctum had kept only consisted of a rising sun flag, a well-preserved bayonet, a canteen in similar condition, some mirrors, a box with an engraving, and some brass casings.

“Don’t be like that, Izumi-chan. At the very least, this puts a lot of wind behind the hypothesis that said ‘emissaries’ were the Imperial Japanese from way back when. Setting aside the fact that most of these trinkets are in surprisingly excellent condition, especially if we go by the age the Sanctum gave from when these so-called ‘emissaries’ came here.”

The traditional number the Sanctum goes by for when the emissaries arrived was around 2000 years ago. The age at which these artifacts currently stand would be similar to any Roman artifacts from the time of Augustus. The age alone was mind-bafflingly old and raised so many questions about the difference in the passage of time between Earth and Asherah.

“2000 years is so fishy, yet it’s the only number we have. Fortunately for us, the High Priest allowed us to collect samples for dating; we’ll probably get the results sometime this month.”

“What’s more; if we look at the engravings on both the backside of the mirrors and the box...”

The three perused through well-lit photographs of all sides of the mirrors and the boxes, including the interior of the latter. Much like the rest of the artifacts, the engravings were also well preserved, although they were written in pre-war Japanese, of which the three all have difficulty reading. They could, however, make out some names.

“This mirror... probably belonged to a certain Kawanishi Miko.”

“This one says ‘to my beloved Akemi.’”

“The Japanese alone is more than enough fuel for the Imperial Japanese hypothesis...”

“That raises so many questions like why were they here? Where did they go? How did they get here?”

“All in due time, I guess. Although some of those are easier to answer than the rest–still very hard questions, I think.”

The three’s thoughts wander around the evidence they’ve been given, faced with answers they feel they don’t quite get and questions they don’t even know they should be asking. Kita, however, was creative enough to connect some dots at least.

“Didn’t they all say–even Princess Llanfair–that the emissaries had come to drive away the ‘demonic forces’? She even used it as a rallying cry to get us to fight the Lourians for them.”

“So what are these ‘demonic forces,’ then? I’m not sure with you, but I’m pretty confident that the Lourians were not present at that era, especially if Qua-Toyne itself had not existed then. These ‘demonic forces’ must have been even more of a threat to justify... uhhh.”

Izumi was stuck. She knew what her next words were going to be, but it was too much of a leap in conclusions based on what little evidence they’ve got. She was afraid of putting the wagon before the horse.

“...To justify ‘sending’ the emissaries here?”

Cecilia put the words out there for everyone to hear. It was an uncomfortable statement–one which had little merit. The act of ‘sending’ alone implied that there was a ‘sender’ and that the emissaries had ‘come’ from somewhere else. But then this line of thought also coincidentally conforms with all the stories their Qua-Toynian counterparts had been forwarding for eons: the emissaries have been sent here by the ‘gods’.

“Let’s say they’ve really been... ‘sent’: by who, then? Are we really going to say the ‘gods’? If the Imperial Japanese hypothesis is in fact true, then were they ‘sent’ here from Earth? Y’see, there’s this chasm of questions that comes forth from just saying they’ve been ‘sent.’ Let’s also not forget the ramifications with regards to ancestry: are these emissaries actually real people from our world?”

A flurry of questions streamed forth from Izumi’s mouth, catching Kita and Cecilia off guard. They were indeed difficult questions to answer, owing both to the godly level of evidence required to answer them and the head-scratching ramifications that spring forth once they are answered. They still had little to go on and had only enough to at least lend some credence to their hypothesis, but the deeper they dive, the more the answers feel detached from reality. It was both an exciting and frightening prospect.

“We’ll just have to steel ourselves for those questions; Krko will definitely have some clues for us. Whether we like it or not, we’ve been given this duty as archaeologists to unearth the truth.”

Reminded of their mission, the trio buckle themselves for the long road ahead. They’ve decided to steel themselves for whatever they will find along the way, even if it contains something they’re not prepared to face.

Barrat, Quila 11:00

After their ship had docked, the three were welcomed at the docks by ministry staff from the local diplomatic mission, who then gave them a ride on a truck that took them further inland to the capital Barrat. Due to the hot, arid conditions of Quila, coupled with the tendency of sandstorms to form, the three packed a lot of water and equipped themselves with scarfs, shawls, shades, and other forms of upper body covering. Leaving the hustle and bustle of the port of Savdid, the truck took a well-maintained stone road that led north. Sitting on the back of the truck along with some armed government escorts, the trio was treated to the sight of the local scenery, a fact not lost on the camera-toting Cecilia.

Besides the long caravan of ore, coal, and oil-laden trucks leading to Savdid destined for resource-hungry Japan, the road to Barrat was filled with all sorts of shawl-wearing people, mostly dwarves and beastmen, carrying gear and weapons, precious metals, trinkets to be sold at Savdid’s markets, and some even had pack animals. These came in the form of horses and camels, but a few curious owners had brought with them gigantic chick-like birds that were far girthier than ostriches, which allowed for cargo and people to be carried on their broad, yellow, feathery backs.

“Awww, cuties.”

Cecilia couldn’t help but snap a pic or two (or seven) of the gargantuan birds.

“Those broncos sure never cease to amaze.”

“Really reminds me of those chocobos from Final Fantasy... Wonder if I could get Miyabe-senpai to have my copy delivered here.”

The trio overheard the conversation of their armed escorts; apparently, the massive chonkers were known as ‘broncos’. A weird name for a big bird, thought Cecilia. As thoughts of wanting to ride a bronco filled their heads, their truck had finished reaching the crest of a slight hill, allowing them to get a better look of what lay ahead of them.

“Is that... Barrat?”

“Yes, miss. Welcome to the ‘gilded city of the wastes’.”

Against the backdrop of the great Rodenian mountain range towering far off into the distance was a sprawling city dotted all throughout by red, white, and yellow banners fluttering in the dry, arid wind. The capital of Barrat was built on the exposed side of a gigantic rock, with many of its standalone buildings and houses populating the short distance between the rock side and an equally gigantic oasis. Peppered between the buildings were wide roads and tall, green trees: the only signs of life–besides the pitiful agriculture systems next to the oasis–in this godforsaken land. The main attraction that drew in their eyes was the massive facade of what appeared to be a castle, seemingly carved and hewn out of the towering exposed rock. Banners of what appeared to be eagles were flown from the ramparts of this rock castle, evoking a sense of intimidation and awe to any who looked upon the daunting walls of the fortification. The mishmash of colors and the abundance of green in this otherwise desolate wasteland lives up to its title as the ‘gilded city of the wastes.’

The truck continued to drive towards the equally impressive city walls, diverting from the bigger stone road that led deeper into the wastes. At the tall, wide gates to the city, the truck was stopped by tall beastmen clad in hot-looking leather armor all over, brandishing pikes that were almost as girthy and tall as telephone poles. Their faces were covered with a mix of leather and mail armor, and the beastmen guards howled in the local tongue.

“Who goes there?!”

In response, the escorts at the back waved their hands and brandished the Hinomaru. One of them even whistled in a familiar tone.

“Buddy! We’re just returning to the Japanese embassy!”

Then, as if cowering in front of a feared adversary, the beastman guards visibly hung their heads low and relaxed their stances, turning the traffic cone-sized pikes away from the truck.

“M-My apologies! Carry on!”

The truck trudged on, as if nothing had happened. The trio watched the entire thing unfold in silence, their mouths discreetly agape underneath their scarfs.

“They’ve gotta get used to that by now.”

“If it’s SOP for them, then we can’t help it.”

“I still remember the first time they heard of what happened in Jin-Hark; their faces when the King himself groveled before Ambassador Motokawa.”

Apparently, the Japanese mission in Quila was a lot less reserved than their peers up north in Qua-Toyne. The strong-arming of the diplomats must have been due to difficulties regarding the acquisition of resources (and the accompanying rights with regards to their extraction) in this wasteland. In more ways than one, the ugly face of a resource-hungry Japan was rearing its head amidst the dry wastes of Quila. It was only a matter of time before the trio would feel the ramifications of this firsthand–Krko was apparently next to a resource-rich oilfield known colloquially as the ‘boneyard.’ It didn’t take much mental gymnastics to arrive at the conclusion that that place must have also been exploited by the Japanese, both past and present.

Their truck slowly cut through the densely crowded streets of Barrat. Streetgoers and merchants, now used to the sight of modern beastly machines, were simply avoiding the diesel-smeared, smoke-pumping vehicle as they rushed towards their destinations. In no time, they arrived at a fenced-off compound patrolled by armed guards. Entering the compound, they were treated to a bright, green lawn, complete with mechanical hoses, level-trimmed grass, growing tree saplings, and concrete paths flanked by flowers. At the end of one of these paths was a Western-style building painted white with the Hinomaru flying high on a flagpole at its front. Unamused by this facade of splendor, Izumi lashed out with her half-empty stomach backing her wrath.

“Millions of us are near starving back home but they have enough money to make a pish-posh embassy in the middle of nowhere?!”

“And the ones making this pish-posh embassy possible are our benefactors! Hold your damned horses, Hikari!”

Kita tried to rein in her best friend’s understandable rant as she tried to smile off the armed escorts next to them.

“Yeah, actually... We, too, aren’t being paid or fed enough ‘round here too. Our bosses just don’t listen to us, probably because they’re also just as unpaid and unfed.”

“We truly live in such a society...”

The armed escorts gave their additional two cents in surprising agreement to Izumi’s rant. After some introductions with the deputy chief of the mission, they were then guided towards the rock-hewn castle for an audience with the King.

- - -

“Mmmmm...”

The low, loud humming of towering beastman guards flanking the pathway that led upwards towards the throne was ominous and earth-shaking–literally, for the low hums seem to be causing the ground and the walls to oscillate ever so slightly. The humming echoed throughout the wide expanse of the throne room, its walls hewn from the rock as old as the continent on which they stand. The complex also had openings that allowed for air and light in, covered only by long stretches of yellow fabric that gave the interior a desert yellow hue. The trio, some embassy staff, and their armed escorts simply stood at the entrance to the throne hall, frozen by the impromptu orchestra that was playing in front of them.

“Uhh...”

“Don’t worry. This is part of the procedure.”

A composed reply from the embassy staff assured Izumi as a figure appeared on the darkened throne. The figure then stood up, revealing its tall stature and muscular build, before walking down the sloped path towards them. Despite being clad in a toga-like dress, the figure’s muscular appearance could be inferred through the fabric, as well as in its movements. Before long, the figure stepped into the light, revealing itself to be a beastman with bull features instead of the usual wolf, the most iconic feature of which was the pair of golden horns on his head. Also mounted on his head was a sparkling, golden crown. Then, using an extendable staff the size of a telephone pole that he procured from somewhere on his back, he struck the hall floor with a loud thud, silencing the humming of his guards.

As soon as the humming stopped, the closest guard spoke out loud in Asheran common.

“Presenting to you His Majesty, Nandi II, King of Quila, Bearer of the Crown of Barrat, Lord of the South of Rodenius, King Over the Wastes...”

Before the guard could fully list the number of titles to his name, King Nandi II stopped him short with a hand wave gesture.

“...and so on, and so forth. Now, who do we have here?”

Due to his comparatively tall stature, Nandi II had to squat a bit to be able to talk face to face to the Japanese. One of the embassy staff raised her voice in the introduction.

“Your Highness, these are the scholars we have talked about–the ones who will explore the emissary site at Krko.”

Nandi II then turned his widened eyes towards Izumi, Kita, and Cecilia.

“Ah! The great scholars of Japan! I personally bid you welcome!”

The Quilan king then got on one of his knees, pressed his fist against his chest, and lowered his head in front of the trio, earning embarrassed faces from them and his own guards.

“No need to go so far, Your Highness! We humbly accept your warmest of welcomes!”

Nandi II then raised himself back to his squatting position before raising his hand over the heads of the trio.

“Such humility... I will give you my blessing in your journey to Krko. May your findings be as enlightening and bright as the desert sands from which you unearth them.”

Now with the king’s blessing, the trio felt a bit more invigorated in their quest to find answers to the mystery of the emissaries. Izumi spoke up on behalf of everyone.

“Our deepest gratitude for your blessing, Your Highness. Allow us to also thank you for allowing us passage to Krko.”

The king then raised his head, his face in clear confusion.

“Allow you for the passage? No, no, no, no. I cannot grant you that.”

The confusion then spread among the trio, who then looked towards the embassy staff, who were also equally as dumbfounded as they were.

“You can’t allow them passage? That was not in the talks, Your Highness!”

“It wasn’t; I thought they were simply being brought here for my blessing.”

“Is that not the allowance for their passage to Krko?”

Nandi II shook his head; the sheer momentum from his massive body swiveling could be felt from where they were standing.

“No, it’s not. Much in the same way your government doesn’t talk with me for its business in pulling black water from the ground, I’m not the one you should be talking to when it comes to this scholarly matter.”

Frustrated by this, the embassy staff nearly pulled out their hair. As for the trio, they were simply at a loss on what to do next. Just then, a guard came running into the throne room, interrupting their conversation.

“Your Highness! There’s about to be a commotion in the public hall between Olek’s warriors and the Japanese!”

In response, Nandi II sighed as he put his hand over his face while dismissing the guard with his other hand. He then turned towards the still livid embassy staff and the trio.

“Fortunately for you, the warlord that controls the Whispering Flatlands where Krko is, Olek, is currently in town. He’s at the public hall about to square off with some of your own people; you’d do me a great service if you could stop them. In the process, you probably may also be able to gain his favor in allowing you passage into Krko.”

The embassy staff, who were most taken aback by the fact that a fight was about to ensue, left ahead with their escorts. Izumi, Kita, and Cecilia bowed in thanks to the king before following suit.

Public Hall, 11:45

Shouts in the native tongue, Asheran common, and Japanese were being exchanged in a dangerous flurry of negotiation breakdowns within the public hall inside the rock-hewn walls of the Barrat castle. On one hand, were a group of Japanese businessmen in uniforms and carrying briefcases, accompanied by armed escorts with assault rifles and handguns, while on the other was a beastman in shining black-colored plate and mail armor, flanked by beastmen clad in heavier armor and armed with large muskets, the bore of which matched the entire cross-section of a human arm. The commotion attracted castle guards and commoners alike, with individuals from both groups not knowing whether to go in and stop the fight or not, resulting in them just standing around.

Just then, embassy staff came running into the hall and immediately put themselves in between the two opposing sides.

“What the hell is going on here?! Explain yourselves!”

The group of businessmen fixed their ties before answering.

“This greedy buffoon of a warlord was chewing off more than he could bite! Our offers were already understandable and fair to both parties!”

The black armored beastman lashed out in response.

“Really now, you mongrel?! It seems you’ve taken an addiction to the black blood you take from the earth, for you’re spitting it out right now as you speak!”

Before the businessmen could be offended and lash back, he relentlessly continued his verbal offensive.

“Full rights to the land and everything underneath it?! How did you think I would respond to that?! You even dare sprinkle it with empty promises of ‘shared profit’ and ‘economic improvement’?! I do not know what insidious charms you used to get the approval of other warlords, but you will not get to work it on me! No more!!!”

Standing tall over the cowering Japanese businessmen and their armed escorts, he points his clawed finger directly towards them.

“Mark my words, you Japanese snakes: consider it my mercy that I will honor all previous agreements before this! From this point on, I will no longer be entertaining any more requests for dialogue! This will be the last time we will speak!”

Without giving them any more chances, the black armored beastman turned around and walked towards the exit. Realizing their chance was slipping away, the embassy staff and the trio ran after him. Before they could exit the hall, Cecilia was able to stand in the way of the angry beastman.

“M-May I have some of your time, good sir?”

The beastman had his claws ready to slash but hesitated when he realized her long, flowing brunette hair and feminine features.

“What is it now?! Didn’t I tell you I will no longer speak with you?!”

His sharp tongue didn’t disappear, however.

Unfazed, Cecilia continued.

“Sir Olek, I presume? Me and my two companions over there are scholars commissioned by the Japanese government to study the secrets of Asherah.”

Olek raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? That’s interesting, but I will stand by my word not to entertain any more fools from Japan.”

Just as the still livid beastman was about to shove Cecilia out of the way, she continued to stand in his way.

“We are simply scholars–archaeologists–who study the remains of past societies through the things that they left behind! May I at least know the reason why you remain adamant in denying us entry?”

Cecilia’s voice of reason managed to find its way through the chinks in Olek’s hardened armor, grabbing him by the heartstrings and allowing him to reconsider his obstinate decision. With a scratch of the head, the warlord relents.

“When you say ‘economic prosperity,’ they usually come with irreparable damage to the ancestral lands we live in. Yes, they’re already wastes, but these are the wastes our forebears have cultivated to ensure that we, their descendants, have a home to call. I’ve seen what your government has done to Savdid, to Barrat, to Qua-Toyne, and even Jin Hark; so far your promises of ‘economic prosperity’ are nothing but moot.”

Olek’s statement drew silent head scratches and coughs from the Japanese businessmen and embassy staff standing behind him. Almost in tears from the sheer level of destruction they’ve wrought upon the societies of Asherah ever since their appearance, Cecilia felt her heart skip a beat as she pulled out her phone. Loading up pictures of home, she then shows them to Olek.

“Take a look at this.”

Olek and his guards squinted their eyes at the screen of Cecilia’s phone.

“This is the Foro Romano. These are ancient ruins back home. These are from when this city, Roma, used to be known as the center of the world, an age not forgotten because of the countless thousand-year-old testaments to the legacy they’ve left behind. Countless wars and calamities have brought ruin onto their great buildings, and all that’s left behind are now ruins.”

“However, we’ve endeavored to force our governments to honor the legacy of our ancestors–to make sure that what they’ve left behind will continue to stand the test of time. As such, not only did we save the Foro Romano, but also my home’s natural beauty.”

Setting aside pictures of the old Roman forum in the heart of Rome, Cecilia then proceeded to show picturesque views of some of Italy’s protected national parks. Some of them were pristine pictures of national parks along the indomitable Italian Alps, which reminded Olek and his beastmen of the high Rodenian mountains on the borderland of their domain with Qua-Toyne. Shaken by the woman’s strong statements, Olek looked at her with eyes of doubt. In response, Cecilia pointed toward the embassy staff.

“If you aren’t convinced, then we can have our resident government representative here note it down for you!”

The embassy staff’s eyes widened in confusion.

“W-What?”

“Write it down! Get the lands in and around Krko to be a protected national Quilan treasure! Do it!”

Cecilia’s steely, nearly bloodshot eyes pierced right into the soul of the embassy staff, who subconsciously began writing down what she said in ink and paper.

“E-Even if I write it down...”

“Shh! I’ll make sure it happens!”

While Izumi, Kita, and the other Japanese present weren’t the least confident in Cecilia’s idea of pushing through, Olek and his guards were a bit more convinced.

“Amazing... Are you really going to do it?”

“Absolutely!”

Firm and resolute, Cecilia replied with a smile, impressing Olek.

“If what you say is true and you will fight for it, then it would only be right by me to do something in return. You appear to find value in the preservation of things rather than in its destruction.”

Just as the trio and the embassy staff breathed a collective sigh of relief, Olek raised his hands.

“If it’s access to Krko you wish, then I’ll reconsider. However, since it’s still my domain, I will take the liberty to impose some conditions.”

Cent. Calendar 11/09/1639, Smankse, on the border with the Whispering Flatlands, Quila, 8:00

After a day filled with negotiations with Olek and some settling into their bunks at the embassy, the trio welcomed the next day with filled bellies and a long road ahead of them. After an hour by truck from the capital Barrat towards the north, they arrived at a small, nondescript town called Smankse on the border leading into the Whispering Flatlands. The town, which has an oasis, serves as one of the last stops of civilization in Quila proper before the routes continue into the much more desolate wastes to the north and west. Disembarking from the truck, Izumi, Kita, Cecilia, and two armed escorts were treated to sights of trade caravans carrying precious metals and salt, destined for the markets in southern Louria at the other end of the wastes. On the other hand, they were also treated to the sight of construction workers, most of which were natives, working on oil pipelines that stretched from the oilfields to the north to the port in Savdid. Despite being deep inland, they could still see reminders of Japan’s resource predicament. Just then, they were approached by the figure of Olek clad in his shiny, black plate armor.

“I’ve been told it’s your first time out here.”

He then pointed towards four of his men, each keeping control over big, yellow bronco birds.

“Don’t tell me...”

“Oh my god. We get to ride the chonkers!”

“Couldn’t it be horses instead?”

A slew of impressions came from the scholars and their escorts. As part of Olek’s conditions, they were going to ride broncos going to Krko, citing reluctance with letting trucks or any other vehicles stepping foot on sacred land. Izumi, who’s never been good with animals, pinches her glabella in an effort to steel herself for the coming ride.

“Don’t worry, Hikari. One of our gun-toting escorts here is a lot more pale than you!”

Kita tries to cheer her best friend up.

Shortly after, the Japanese were helped onto each bronco with Kita and Izumi riding together. With Olek mounting a separate bronco, the convoy of five oversized birds was now poised to set out. Just before they did, Olek asked his Japanese companions one more time.

“You got your water and belongings with you?”

“Yeah!”

“We got ‘em.”

“Good. It’s gonna be five hours till we see the next oasis, so I hope you’ve prepared enough.”

With a hiyah, Olek and his guards got the broncos up and running, carrying the trio and their escorts deeper into the sweltering hot, desolate wastelands of the Whispering Flatlands.