By Zephyria 
After a brief prayer, I opened my eyes. But my mind was not at ease. Everyone around me felt the same. We had prayed, but our faces showed doubt.
It was understandable, really. It wasn’t a proper ritual, and just because we’d had a strange experience once before, suggesting we try the same thing again sounded like sheer madness.
No, thinking about it now, the fact that everyone was so startled and followed along after just seeing an axe disappear was strange enough.
The pilgrimage route was never supposed to be difficult.
The Shatun Desert had a mana concentration of only 20 to 40 mp. The monsters wandering the desert were stronger than those in Dunmel Canyon, but none were a match for us.
After all, the Sword Masters of the White Lion Mercenary Group used to travel it easily with civilians, didn’t they?
But after killing a Sandworm, meeting a god, and even seeing a zombie, half our wits were gone. We were filled with worries: Was this strange summons continuing? Was it a good god or an evil god calling us? What if it wasn’t a god at all? These thoughts filled the silence.
Who could have predicted such a thing?
It was useless to regret past events now.
Leon grumbled as he rubbed the axe blade with a rough cloth, wiping away the dirt.
“If I had known this would happen, I should have tried a few more times by the First Goddess’s side back then.”
“…Hmm.”
“I wish the God of Oasis had resolved everything wisely…”
Then, Benjamin, who had been silent all along, chimed in.
“I preferred it when the god was clumsy.”
“Because it was more fun?”
“No, it’s just… I don’t like my path being predetermined by someone else.”
“That… if you put it that way, it doesn’t sound great either…”
“Right?”
How wonderful could a life be, just navigating each day into an unknown future?
I knew well that life was always like that, but I dearly missed the days when I calmly and diligently charted my days according to the Academy’s schedule.
As the trivial conversation dragged on, Hugh Benson waved his hand, stopping the chattering group.
“Well, that’s all in the past. So, what are we doing this time? East or West?”
Leon declared without a moment’s hesitation.
“If it’s East again, we return to Owen. If it’s West, we go searching for the divine object.”
“What about the Sanctuary?”
“It feels like a path to hell.”
A small laugh escaped at his words, half serious, half joking. His tone and gestures were cheerful, but was his heart truly as light? His attitude of overcoming hardship with laughter resonated with me.
As before, Leon assumed a solemn posture, flattened the ground, and planted the axe upside down. After taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, Leon carefully let go of the axe handle with the same posture as before.
Then, thunk, the axe tilted to the south. Everyone stared blankly at the axe, embedded at an angle. Marianne looked at the sky, then at the axe, then at the direction, and asked,
“Is this direction the Sanctuary of the Sun this time?”
“Uh… yes.”
Benjamin, who had been watching with his arms crossed, suddenly raised his hand.
“May I try it, perhaps?”
“Yes?”
“If you don’t mind me touching… Leon’s weapon…”
“Ah, ah. Of course. You may try, Lord Claudian.”
Benjamin trailed off, seeming awkward about addressing Leon so informally. Leon’s eyes narrowed further as he smiled and handed his weapon to the child.
Hugh Benson and Elvin Brooks held Count titles, but the other four did not. Therefore, the mercenaries respected us as knights and addressed us with honorifics. That was enough for everyone.
Benjamin, like Leon, lifted the axe with one hand and flattened the ground with his foot. Then, he adjusted the angle so that the sides of the axe pointed north and south respectively, and let go.
Thunk. The axe lay down again, to the south. Seeing the axe lying flat, not even overcome by the weight of its side ornaments, everyone let out a hollow laugh.
“Is there honey at the Sanctuary…?”
“At this point, it’s making me determined to go.”
Peter and Ann added their thoughts, and many nodded.
The god we had faced directly evoked a distant fear. However, it had been weeks since that being had simply said its piece and vanished. Perhaps time had softened it, or perhaps the constant joking had dulled it, but the fear and surprise had long since subsided.
Most importantly, the memory of the seven days and nights of hardship was still etched into our bodies. Curiosity about this strange phenomenon now outweighed the fear of the god.
“Me too.”
“Ah, yes. Please try.”
Elvin took Leon’s axe, gauging its weight, and tossed it high into the air.
Startled by the sudden threat, I instinctively pulled Ruben under my arm, shielding him in case he got hurt. Ruben wrapped his arms around my waist and hugged me tightly.
Everyone was quite agile, and the sight of them dodging and causing a commotion was quite amusing.
“Ack!”
“Is anyone there!”
“Hmm.”
The thrown axe spun three times in the air. Then it landed with a thunk on the empty ground.
With that much force and speed, the blade should have embedded itself in the sand, but the axe handle, lying neatly on its side, still pointed south.
Everyone stared at the axe with dumbfounded eyes.
“Are you sure… there isn’t some kind of mechanism?”
“Would it be the same with a sword?”
“Oh, try it!”
So now, everyone took out their own weapons.
They tried setting them upright, throwing them down, and letting them fall. Marianne, who had been grumbling about whether there was a magnet, brought wooden poles used for tents and firewood instead of her metal magic staff to test.
All of them fell in the same direction, to the south.
Even when a sword was thrown eastward, it landed in the south. At this point, it was absurd. Could this be real? Marianne took out various items and examined them for a long time, explaining that the mana around us was circulating normally and no specific magic was at play.
“At this point, it’s not a divine revelation or an omen, isn’t it just a magnet over there?”
“But we tried it, and even the wooden block fell only to the south.”
Hugh Benson grumbled again, and Marianne quickly retorted.
The mercenaries added their own nonsensical remarks one by one.
“No, if you’re going to talk, talk properly… What is this? It’s not like throwing a tantrum.”
“Hup! Before, there was no such thing, absolutely none.”
“Yeah… If something like this had happened, rumors would have spread like wildfire.”
Throwing a sword a few times was not difficult at all.
Having rested after a long time, the group continued to chat while repeatedly throwing or tilting their weapons. John threw his morning star. It too landed with its two heads neatly facing south.
Seeing that, the mercenaries jokingly argued that because the heads of the morning star were round, it had fallen eastward, not southward.
After about forty minutes of playing like this…
Suddenly, the unknown force ceased.
A sword thrown high landed directly in the sand dune. Leon’s axe now lay on its sides, following its ornaments. The wooden blocks Marianne had thrown carelessly fell in the direction they were thrown. Peter’s dagger, thrown wildly high, grazed John’s legs and stuck in the ground.
Everyone was as startled as John.
In the silence, I picked up a sword that had fallen far to the east.
“…”
“…”
Just in case, I threw the sword again. It fell perfectly straight. I easily caught the sword, which hadn’t veered in any direction, in mid-air and put it away. Everyone gathered their weapons, sheathed them, and slung them onto their backs.
Giselle looked around nervously and asked,
“…Is the god sulking?”
“…If it’s that petty, is it really a god?”
“I don’t know… Probably not.”
Ann and Leon managed to give less-than-satisfactory answers.
The third god we saw last time was like a mischievous child. Didn’t they say the Ninth God had also left in a huff? What kind of god would we meet this time?
Even hay blown by a cow’s breath wouldn’t be this powerless. If it were a command from the head of the family, I might have refused to listen, but…
Everyone’s laughter and jokes had stopped.
We agreed that worrying now was useless. If the god truly had a purpose in calling us, it would provide a way to overcome it, so we should stop worrying.
Still, they said we had another four or five days before we left the Oasis’s domain. We hoped a good plan would come to mind during that time, or perhaps we’d find a guide more skilled than those Sylphs.
❖ ❖ ❖
The entire party stood frozen, staring into the distance.
I blinked, unable to believe my eyes.
[Wow!]
The Sylphs’ exclamations were muffled.
Even after blinking several times, the shape shimmering before my eyes refused to disappear.
This was the boundary of the territory we had reached after leisurely riding camels for four days. There was no wall or fence, yet the line of the boundary was clearly visible. Beyond it, all sorts of zombies swarmed like ants lured by candy.
I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it. Marianne, whose eye force wasn’t as good as the martial artists’, shook the people around her, asking what was happening, but after hearing Benjamin’s whisper, her jaw dropped.
I reflexively looked towards Ruben. The child covered his face with both hands, then swept them down, revealing a faint smile. It was obvious he was trying to hide his troubled feelings.
I turned to look at Hugh Benson as well. He sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His eyes were bloodshot, already red.
I saw Leon’s expression, usually so lighthearted, harden, and the people behind him slumped limply on their camel’s backs, making sobbing sounds.
Then I looked ahead again.
“…How many?”
It wasn’t Benjamin who answered Marianne’s question, but the Sylphs.
[Five! Five! Five! Five! Five!]
[Five is too many! Ten times five! Five times ten!]
[Five is ten?]
[No, more! Five times five!]
[Five!]
Ann whimpered pitifully, half-crying.
“…If you’re going to kiss someone before you die, do it now. I’m going to close my eyes from now on.”
My temperature rose involuntarily, and I touched the back of my neck. Ruben looked at me in surprise, then quickly turned his gaze forward. I bit my tongue. I was pathetic for getting so worked up over such an absurd statement, and for a while, I couldn’t say anything.