Location: Kalbrin Wastes – Day 12 in Atheria
The city of Tivaros faded behind them, its glowing spires swallowed by the rising heat of the desert. In its place stretched an endless sea of golden-white sand, humming softly in the wind.
Each grain sparkled like crushed moonlight. The dunes shifted slowly, whispering ancient songs no one could fully understand.
Sena wiped sweat from her brow. "They should've named this the Burning Wastes, not Singing."
Eunsol chuckled, holding out a shimmering cloth that blocked heat. "Too poetic for how hot it is."
They were on foot now, by choice. Jiwoo led the group, walking casually, unaffected by the heat. His body—invincible—didn't sweat, didn't tire. But more importantly, he made sure none of his companions felt the desert's pain, quietly using his powers to cool the air around them just enough.
Even his smallest magic, when used subtly, made the harsh world a little softer.
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Signs in the Sand
Around mid-afternoon, they came across a broken wagon half-buried in the sand. The wooden wheels were splintered, its cargo crates ripped open and looted.
Baek knelt down and studied the tracks.
"Four-legged mounts. Light treads. Spiked shoes. Fast desert runners—definitely bandits."
Jihye added, "They circled the wagon three times before stopping. Classic raiding pattern."
Sena cracked her knuckles. "You want me to chase them down?"
Jiwoo shook his head. "No. We're not hunting."
"But they might come for us," Yoori said quietly, glancing at the horizon.
Jiwoo looked ahead.
> "Let them come."
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An Hour Later — The Ambush
The group continued walking along a narrow stone ridge between dunes. Suddenly, the wind shifted—and a loud whistle echoed from the cliffs.
Twelve figures emerged from behind boulders and sand mounds. Faces wrapped in cloth, eyes glinting with greed.
Each one held curved blades, chain hooks, or hand-carved spell rods. Their mounts—sleek desert runners with spiked tails—snorted aggressively.
The leader stepped forward. His armor was pieced together from bone and scorched leather. A horned helmet rested on his head.
"Well, well… travelers in the Wastes," he said with a grin. "Drop your bags. Leave your water. And we'll let you walk away with your legs."
Jiwoo didn't react.
Neither did his friends.
The bandits shifted uncomfortably.
The leader frowned. "Did you hear me, pretty boy?"
Jiwoo looked at him calmly.
"I heard you," he said softly.
Then he stepped forward.
One step.
The sand trembled.
The heat shifted. The sunlight dimmed—not from clouds, but from presence.
The lead bandit took a step back involuntarily. His breath caught.
Baek leaned on his staff. "You boys really don't know who you're robbing."
Sena whispered, "Should we scare them a little?"
Jiwoo raised a hand. "No violence."
Then he pointed to a nearby sand dune.
> "Leave your weapons there. Take only your clothes. And walk away."
The leader scoffed—but his voice cracked slightly. "Or what? You'll fight all twelve of us?"
Jiwoo simply blinked.
And the wind stopped.
Completely.
The air grew silent. Still. As if the desert itself had held its breath.
Then, without a word, Jiwoo stepped to the side—and the ridge beneath the bandits cracked, sending half their group sliding down the sand like marbles.
No spell.
No motion.
Just intention.
The desert obeyed him.
---
Retreat
The leader stared, trembling.
"You… You're not just travelers."
"No," Mirae said, her voice like distant thunder. "We're the ones you don't steal from."
The man dropped his blade, backed away, and shouted, "GO!"
The bandits fled, leaving behind packs, weapons, even their mounts.
In seconds, they were gone.
---
Silence Returned
The group stood still.
Yoori sighed. "You didn't even touch them."
"Didn't need to," Jiwoo replied.
Jihye nodded. "It's better this way. No violence. Just memory."
Baek grinned. "Bet they won't sleep for weeks."
Eunsol picked up one of the abandoned packs and opened it. "Looks like they stole from a merchant caravan. Dried fruit, glass beads, perfume oil…"
Jiwoo picked up a sealed scroll inside.
It was a desert trader's sigil—marking a route from Sundermarket to Glasswind Basin.
Jiwoo held it up.
> "Let's return this. To whoever lost it."
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That Night — Beneath the Singing Stars
They camped atop a small dune under the open sky. The sands glowed with faint blue light, whispering old songs that no one truly understood.
Mirae played a gentle tune to match the desert hum. Noeun sketched constellations with her magic. Jihye translated a desert rune map while Baek roasted spice-roots over flame.
Jiwoo sat quietly, looking at the horizon.
They could have crushed the bandits in a blink. He could have turned their blades to ash or flown his group across the wastes in comfort.
But he didn't.
> Power without control was just destruction.
And Jiwoo was no destroyer.
Yoori sat beside him. "You handled it perfectly."
"They were desperate," Jiwoo said. "This desert doesn't forgive easily."
"But we do," she replied, resting her head on his shoulder.
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Final Scene — A Symbol Left Behind
Before they left the next morning, Jiwoo walked back to the cracked dune where the ambush had occurred.
He placed a glowing stone there—small, golden, and warm.
On it was a carved symbol: ☉
The bandits wouldn't understand it at first.
But someday, word would spread: that a group of nine walked the Wastes, untouchable and kind.
And that power could be peaceful.
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