"Did you find it?"

"Of course, who do you take me for?" came the answer. The man then placed a vial on the table, attracting curious glances.

"This little thing will protect us from the flames? Are you sure?" one of the others asked skeptically while pointing at the vial.

"It should, at least partially. Though the old coot warned me we'll need a lot of water coz our skin will start producing fire-resistant mucus or some shit."

The one that appeared to be their leader, also the one that spoke first, said, "We've got plenty of water, drinking is not a concern."

"Speaking of drinking…"

The boss of the Inn came bringing them drinks, with many full mugs of beer and even a spicy spirit bottle with shot glasses.

"Ah! There we go!" the leader of the gang exclaimed in delight. "Finally something good to quench our thirst."

"Here you go, Burning Cactus Spirit, a local delicacy, I hope you like it," the Inn boss said as he placed the drinks on the table.

There were cheers all around as each of the gang took a shot glass and downed the clear liquid in one gulp.

"Woah! This stuff really burns!" one of them exclaimed as he nearly choked on the spicy alcohol poison. His eyes started watering and he became red in the face. He quickly took a mug and downed the beer to quench the fire in his throat.

"Haha! Delicious!" their leader laughed in return, and at the same time and poured himself some more. "This stuff really goes down your throat like liquid fire! To a successful hunt! Cheers!"

The rest of the group also raised their drinks and cheered loudly.

They got a few weird glances from the locals, but nobody said anything. They were just hoping they would hurry up and leave. But their silent prayers weren't answered.

The sandstorm outside only picked up in intensity, the wind howling as it passed around the houses, carrying sharp sands and dust with it.

Gerald was curious as to how the cactus drink tasted, so he ordered a bottle as well. He lifted a bottle towards the group of merry men in cheers and drank straight from it.

As soon as the powerful alcohol entered his throat, he nearly choked on it. The burning sensation and powerful taste made him cough out real flames.

"Man, this stuff is fire!" he jokingly said.

His exaggerated actions didn't go unnoticed. The leader of the gang quickly made his way toward him. "Woah, brother! That's some fire! It seems you aren't from here, are you?" he jokingly said, placing his dusty gloved hand on Gerald's shoulder.

"Same with you," Gerald replied amicably and removed the guy's hand, and patted the dust off. "You don't seem well equipped for these parts. I'm Gerald by the way." He then gestured for the man to sit and offered him a drink.

"Name's Dug, and yeah, we aren't from here…" Dug took the offered bottle of Burning Cactus Spirit and took a swig. "Wooo, man! That's the stuff!"

He stayed motionless with closed eyes, savoring the taste. Then he handed the bottle back and said, "Say, what's a strong-looking fellow like you doing in these parts?"

"Same as you, I believe," Gerald replied, his words carrying a mysterious undertone. "I'm hunting for a special bird..."

"Haha, no way?! You are hunting the Phoenix as well?!" Dug exclaimed, his mannerism becoming increasingly loud and assertive under the influence of alcohol. A few angry glances were thrown his way by the locals because of his shouts, but that's all they did.

They were just common folk, after all, simply trying to live their lives in peace. Nobody was stupid or ballsy enough to confront a big, drunken warrior from a foreign land.

Confirming the guess with a simple nod, Gerald invoked another round of roaring laughter.

"That's great! Say, brother Gerald, how about you join us on this expedition? If we work together we are bound to succeed in taking down the flaming chicken," Dug quickly proposed in his half-drunken state.

"Oh, but don't have extra resources to share, so…"

Gerald understood his meaning but didn't mind it one bit. Joining someone else who could guide him through the desert was exactly what he needed. "Of curse, I got my own provision, that's not a problem! I would gladly join your little group!"

"Oh yeah, we are kind of small, huh? Well, we are still waiting for the rest, they should be here any minute now," Dug said. "Speaking of which…"

The front doors opened and another group of men entered amidst a cloud of swirling dust and sand.

"Fucking sandstorm!" one of them cursed after closing the door. They wandered around in near blindness for so long that he really thought they would lose their way in the middle of a town! And now his pants were full of salty desert sand.

There were so many places he didn't even know things could get into. For example his…

"Ah, you are finally here! About time!" Dug quickly went to greet them. "How was it? Did everything go as planned?"

"Yes, yes, boss. Everything is ready. Now if this sandstorm would just go away…"

Gerald took a while, but he recognized the newcomers. Despite them being covered from head to toe, he remembered where he saw them. They were the group of five warriors he traveled with. Thinking about it, it wasn't really a surprise.

They were dressed for battle no matter how you looked at it. And what better to fight than a mythical beast? Gold and honor were the two most sought-after things after all.

"Alright, now that we are all gathered, let me introduce to you a new member of our team, Gerald!" Dug gestured enthusiastically.

The five newcomers removed their hoods and face coverings to see better in the dim light of the Inn. It was clear from their expressions they recognized Gerald, but they didn't say anything about it.

"Name's Gustav," the leader of the five said, extending his right hand, "Well, I hope you won't drag us down."

"Likewise!" Gerald shook his hand with a smile. It seemed he just got himself a group of easy-going guards on this little adventure.