4 Rescued

Desert is a cold bitch, headstrong, fickle, and ruthless. She devoured every bit of life that passed by, not even spitting out bones, chewing cleanly. Therefore, it is a very rare thing to find a lost person alive in the desert. The herdsmen in the desert call this kind of person who was almost taken away by the desert but miraculously survived as Ajibai Muhadi, which means miracle person . Meeting such a person is somewhat of a good sign, at least in most cases.

The team consisted of about two dozen people, riding a desert horse much taller than their counterparts on Earth, lined up in an evacuated but alert formation. No one spoke much, and every rider appeared alert and capable, with vigilant eyes swept to the surrounding sand at any time.

They wore loose white robes and woven straw sandals, with headscarves covering their hair and most of the back of their heads. They have a machete and a dagger around their waists. The shape of the dagger is very unique. The back of the blade is three fingers wide, but the front end is sharply narrowed and twisted, forming a vicious hook. [[[cp|w:250|h:190|a:l|u:13800100.com/chapters/20122/26/13800100.com]]]Compared with ordinary people, they are slightly taller, just like the crotch The lower mounts appear to be very coordinated. These riders have soft facial lines and slightly pointed chins, their pupils are apricot yellow, and their facial features are exquisite and handsome. Although the skin is white and incompatible with the desert. Seeing them walking in the desert on horseback, anyone can easily find out that they are excellent sand people. The rider and the mount seem to be integrated, and every move is relaxed and natural, as if the hot weather, soft sand, and dry gale have no effect at all.

A rider on the side of the line first spotted the man lying in the sand, and he alerted a young female rider next to him, who called out to his companion in an unfamiliar language. Soon everyone noticed the man half-buried in the sand, the two riders rode forward, and the others glanced around cautiously.

"It's a trap!" said a large rider to a man who looked like a leader, his voice gruff and spittle. "This is the edge of the Arika desert. No traveler will venture deep here, no caravan will pass through here, we are the furthest tribe ourselves, but if it is not for the shortcut this time, even we will not Wouldn't take the risk to get to this point. This must be a trap set up by those people who know we're chasing, and want to send someone to sneak in with us to give them our spot in time." The more the rider spoke, the higher his tone became. More and more confident, more and more unquestionable. "What's more, judging from the traces left by this man, he must have come from the core of the Arika desert, where no one has ever been there, and where no creatures can survive. This is too fake, it must be those who know little about the desert. Subordinates of the city people."

The leader's face showed a color of thought, but he did not express it. His robe was cleaner than others', and there was almost no trace of sand on the bottom of the robe. Like others, he also carried a machete on his waist, but the handle had complicated decorations, and the scabbard also had hollow patterns.

The first rider to find out disagreed with the former's opinion. He looked the big rider in the eye and questioned aloud. "You think he's trying to infiltrate our undercover agent? It's baseless. You also know that no one passes by here, and even we made a temporary decision to pass through here. They can anticipate our actions and set traps here? We should Save this person first, as for his origin, we can ask him after he wakes up."

The big rider still disagreed, "Even if it's an innocent traveler, he has nothing to do with us, either we'll let this man rot in the sand. Or we'll kill him to relieve his pain in advance, and we can also add by the way. Supplies. Then we'll continue on our way."

The leader shook his head, his turban swaying with the movement of his head. He looked at the female rider who was currently looking at the boy on the horse, and asked in a tired voice, "Fatumai, what do you say?"

"I said we'd save this man," replied the female rider, known as Fatuma, in a very young voice. "Look carefully, the robe material on his body is unusual, only the nobles, maybe the templars, can use it. And you noticed, he has a book on his waist, it is difficult for people to read these days. Find him. He might be able to exchange for a ransom, or at least be an accountant slave for us."

"He's human! Are you blind, or are you dazed by the sun and didn't notice?" the big rider insisted. "Humans are cunning and untrustworthy, and it is not easy to get a ransom. And their lifespans are too short and their bodies too weak to be slaves."

"I said he was worthy, and it just so happened that I was the chief's daughter. You can keep your good reasons in your heart." Fatuma retorted suddenly and resolutely, and then she turned to look at the chief. "Father?"

The leader nodded and gestured to the riders beside the boy. "Well, pull him out of the sand and take care of it. Be quick and don't delay. Fatuma!"

The female rider nodded to indicate that she heard it, and the leader continued. "...When he wakes up. You deal with it."

The riders acted neatly and pulled the boy out of the sand in a few strokes. Then the group did not stop for much, and quickly disappeared into the desert, leaving only the open wilderness and the scorching wind.

When the boy woke up, it was already the second night.

His first feeling was cold. The night temperature in the desert dropped to a very low level, and it had been two days since he crossed, and he had not eaten anything, and hunger had caused weakness.

Immediately afterwards, he noticed that he was not alone, and there were many figures walking back and forth not far away. There are also a few simple cloth tents built with some kind of animal bones and dead wood around, and patches have been put on the cloth tents. In addition, there was a fire on the sand, which looked like it was lit with collected desert hay and livestock dung. Beside the fire, a group of people sat cross-legged in a circle, communicating in unfamiliar languages.

The teenager found that although the language they used was very unfamiliar, and he had never heard a word on earth, but he could understand the content of their communication unexpectedly, which was a wonderful feeling. Maybe this is a side effect of time travel, the young man thought to himself.

The riders were alert and immediately noticed that the teenager had woken up. One of the riders shouted, "Fatumai, your prey has woken up." The teenager saw a girl standing by the fire and strode towards him. , She was wearing a beige robe with an Arabic turban on her head, and a disproportionately long machete slung around her waist. Her eyes are slender and her face is beautiful, and when the turban swayed with the pace, the teenager was surprised to notice that her ears were pointed.

The girl walked up to him, sat down cross-legged, and looked at him with interest.

The boy was uncomfortable being stared at by her, but he didn't plan to speak first, just stared back the same. At last the girl seemed amused by his presumptuousness and laughed.

"It's really interesting, Ajibai Muhadi, no wonder you dare to go to the Arika Desert." The girl said enthusiastically, "Usually when a human being alone encounters our nomadic elf tribe, they will be scared out of their minds, begging us not to put them Eat, but you dare to stare at the chief's daughter. I don't know if you are brave? Or crazy?"

Elf? The boy was shocked when he understood her words.