The Affairs of the Martial World - Vol 2: Chapter 7

The wind in the desert was like the rain during the plum rain season in Jiangnan, sudden and unexpected.

A slight breeze naturally had little effect on these people of the martial world. However, when a sandstorm struck, even someone as skilled as Zhu Que could still feel the irresistible power of heaven and earth.

Just a moment ago, the desert was calm, but suddenly, an invisible, fierce gust of wind swept through. Mu Qingshan, who had been to the desert several times, shouted loudly, “Not good! A storm is coming! Everyone quickly form a circle and tie the camels together; don’t let them scatter!”

Qin Xiong of the Phoenix Tail Gang and Zhao Qiankun of the Jianghuai Gang had not yet reacted. Having spent a long time in the Central Plains, they had never experienced the ferocity of sandstorms in the desert and couldn’t help but feel that the Kunlun Sect members were overreacting: it’s just wind, what’s there to make such a fuss about?

Until the two saw Zhu Que immediately dismount from the camel and gather with the others. They only then realized that things were not looking good and quickly jumped off their camel and walked towards the crowd.

But just that moment of hesitation caused a delay. The fierce wind had already arrived, instantly enveloping everyone in swirling dust.

The wind was so strong that Qin Xiong could barely move his feet. The sand whipped against him like a knife, and he had already lost count of how many cuts the fine sand had made on his face. The wind pushed him sideways; after decades of hard training, his horse stance finally showed its effect as he tried to resist the wind with his strength. However, the sand beneath his feet was too soft to hold him, and his calves sank into it. He was blown down to the ground, and despite holding onto the camel’s rope, he couldn’t keep his grip. All he heard was the camel’s frantic bray as it bolted away, leaving its master behind in a frenzy.

Qin Xiong secretly cried out in despair; food, water, and weapons were on it. Without these things, how could he survive in the desert? Finally, he mustered the courage to stand up and chase after it, but suddenly, another gust of wind swept in, and Qin Xiong was thrown into the air. He only had time to shout once before losing consciousness.

On this side, Zhao Qiankun wasn’t in a much better situation; his camel had also run away. However, he was relatively clever and didn’t get up. He curled up into a ball, desperately resisting the wind and sand. The howling wind was deafening, and he faintly heard Qin Xiong’s voice but couldn’t make out what was being shouted. The brief sound vanished in an instant. It felt as if he were in the abyss of hell, with the fierce wind pouring into his clothes, tearing his outer garment to shreds.

The entire sandstorm lasted more than half an hour; it came suddenly and left just as hastily.

After the sandstorm, it was as if the boiling desert had finally calmed down.

Zhao Qiankun was almost buried in the sand; he stood up, his ears, mouth, and nose filled with sand. He coughed for a long time, feeling as if sand was still stuck in his throat, unable to clear it no matter how hard he tried. The sand in his eyes flowed out with his tears, and he finally saw his disheveled appearance. Without bothering to clean the sand off his body, he immediately began to look around.

Not far away, the Mu brothers, Zhu Que and Fuying, were all present, each holding onto a camel, and even Shui Mingyue was there, but like him, the camel had run away.

There were also the monks of the White Horse Temple and Feng Yichuan; everyone was covered in thick layers of dust and sand, their clothes tattered, looking like a group of beggars, all vomiting sand just like him.

Zhao Qiankun was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when he suddenly froze, as he then realized that Qin Xiong was missing.

Zhao Qiankun, who was the closest to him, immediately used his lightness skill to look around and finally found Qin Xiong in the sand several miles away.

Qin Xiong was stuck in the sand like an upside-down scallion, his upper body wholly buried. Zhao Qiankun grabbed his two legs sticking out and pulled him out, only to discover that he was already dead.

Zhao Qiankun held Qin Xiong’s corpse, sitting on the sand and weeping loudly.

Everyone went up to comfort him with a few words, but Zhao Qiankun only focused on crying for himself.

Finally, Zhu Que led everyone to dig a sand pit to bury Qin Xiong and inserted his sword into the sand.

The monk of White Horse Temple recited the rebirth mantra in front of Qin Xiong’s grave.

Afterward, Zhao Qiankun stood where Qin Xiong was buried, unwilling to leave for a long time, murmuring something to himself.

Everyone felt sad for him, but there was nothing they could do, so they let him be on his own.

As the sky darkened, Zhao Qiankun returned to the group but did not speak to anyone.

Everyone gathered the items after the sandstorm for an inventory check. Qin Xiong, Shui Mingyue, Feng Yichuan, and Zhao Qiankun’s camels had all run off; naturally, the food and water on them were gone. Now, only Zhu Que, Fuying, the monks of White Horse Temple, and the Mu brothers’ camels remained, but several water bags had been torn.

Calculating this way, each person can only receive half the amount of water they used to.

Everyone discussed conserving their drinking, and by the time they reached the treasure site, it should be just enough. The treasure map indicated that there was a water source near the treasure, so they would be able to replenish it then.