Gourmet Hunter - Chapter 392 (Patreon)

Chapter 392: The So-called Sand Thieves

The three great oasis nations stand in the desert, connected in a triangular formation. At the very center lies the Forbidden Zone. No matter where one sets off from to reach the Forbidden Zone, there are no oases along the way, only areas resembling rocky wastelands.

In a certain sense, such places are the "oases" of desert travelers, serving as temporary rest spots where one can replenish supplies, as long as they carry enough salt. After all, bug pots are a specialty of the Kendia Desert.

Among the many rocky areas, Red Rock Canyon reigns supreme. It is the stronghold of the sand thieves and one of the few remaining oases in the desert.

The three great oasis nations despise the sand thieves to the core. However, Red Rock Canyon is well-stocked with supplies and is easy to defend but difficult to attack. If they were to unite and launch a campaign against the thieves, they might exhaust themselves before eliminating the sand thieves.

The sand thieves worship the strong, embracing a rather distorted sense of competition. They accept anyone willing to join but never allow weaklings in their ranks. As the saying goes, it's not the god-like opponents you fear but the pig-like teammates.

Currently, Red Rock Canyon is home to over five thousand robust individuals, all skilled fighters, and nearly a thousand young women living in dire conditions, along with nearly eight hundred captives in the dungeons, ranging from ages seven to seventy-eight, with a few females among them.

The enormous rocks are buried deep underground, and the exposed parts are also majestic. The dungeons are carved into these subterranean rocks, devoid of sunlight, with only a few oil lamps providing faint light.

The dungeon materials are mostly sourced locally, rarely using wood or steel, mainly stone. Despite its practical shortcomings, escape is impossible for those imprisoned.

In a dimly lit cell, a nauseating stench permeates the air.

A woman leans against the wall near the stone bars, covered in unknown excrement, hardened on her skin but still reeking.

There are nearly forty people in the cell, mostly men, keeping their distance from the woman, huddled in the opposite corner.

They all have sallow faces and vacant expressions, staring silently at a dark corner, unmoving like statues.

The woman's face is smeared with excrement in a comical mask. Unlike the others, she occasionally tilts her head, looking through the stone bars at the burning oil lamp, never giving up hope of escape.

If Luo were here, he might barely recognize this woman, who had once collaborated with Master Zelas—Miria.

"I must escape!" Miria murmured to herself.

Over half a month ago, she had joined a caravan leaving Elba for Wat Oases. Unfortunately, they encountered sand thieves. Despite her skills, she couldn't fend off the numerous thieves.

Knowing her fate if captured by the sand thieves, she smeared herself with excrement and hid a poison sac under her tongue, resigning herself to death. Unexpectedly, the sand thieves spared her and about thirty others.

Being a woman, it was normal for the sand thieves to spare her. However, the other survivors were mostly men, with only a few women.

Confused by the discrepancy with the rumors, she had no time to think as she was knocked unconscious.

When she woke up, it was night. She and three other women from the caravan were thrown onto a rocky ground, surrounded by campfires and countless eyes watching them—ghostly figures in the firelight.

She overheard a brief conversation.

"Chief, should we wash this disgusting woman?"

Smack!

A loud slap, followed by a cold male voice: "Is she more important than water?"

Then, she saw the three women with her being ravaged by the sand thieves. She was taken to the dungeon by two disgusted thieves and locked up with over forty men.

This was her first time in the sand thieves' lair, witnessing many discrepancies with the rumors.

The sand thieves, for unknown reasons, had imprisoned countless individuals without any specific criteria, including children and the elderly, seemingly at random.

Twelve days had passed. She didn't know the fate of the three women, and although she had avoided that fate, she was stripped of her freedom.

Tapping sounds echoed rhythmically in the cell—Miria sharpening a stone.

Before being imprisoned, all her valuables and weapons were confiscated, even her hairpin. The poison sac hidden under her tongue went unnoticed.

The peculiarities of the dungeon allowed her to find a stone, which she aimed to sharpen into a knife for self-defense, with the poison sac as a backup.

Sharpening the stone, she remained vigilant, listening intently for any sudden footsteps.

The tapping abruptly stopped as faint, dense footsteps approached the cell.

Miria was surprised. Even during meal times, only a few sand thieves were present. She had never heard such a dense footfall—fifty, perhaps even a hundred?

Soon, a swarm of sand thieves entered the dungeon, methodically opening cells and coldly ordering the younger prisoners to come out.

Seeing this, Miria quickly cut her hair and wrapped the flat stone in it, hiding it in her chest, tightening her clothes.

A sand thief opened her cell door and coldly ordered, "Everyone, out!"

The prisoners, all young, stood up like zombies and formed a disordered queue.

Miria, blending in, endured several disdainful glances from the sand thieves.

The sand thieves herded them out like livestock onto the ground.

Seeing sunlight again, everyone squinted their eyes, forced onto a vast open area, about six hundred in total.

Once her eyes adjusted, Miria saw the expansive rocky ground. A large group of sand thieves on armored bulls formed an imposing line, impossible to estimate their numbers.

A rugged man with a braided beard at the front coldly scanned them and said, "Feed them well for their journey."

Hearing this, Miria felt a chill, and a few others reacted with intense fear.

Prepared, the sand thieves placed abundant food and water before them.

Moments later, the crowd scrambled madly for the food and water.

Gritting her teeth, Miria joined the scramble...

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