"I Reincarnated But Have No System? You Must Be Kidding Me!"

The morning wind carried dust and tension as the sun bled through the dunes.

The horizon shimmered gold, burning like firelight, and the air smelled of oiled steel and sweat. Around the caravan's staging ground, tents collapsed one by one as adventurers armed themselves for the long road west.

Croko's voice cut through the clamor, loud and obnoxiously cheerful for someone about to cross a deathtrap."Gather around, everyone! Let's get to know each other first before we roll out!"

Auren leaned against a crate beside the Blue Bound's wagon, half-lidded eyes hidden beneath the dry wind flicking through his hair.

Alyssa stood next to him, arms crossed, unimpressed by the merchant's theatrics. Blas was somewhere behind, tuning his bowstrings, while Essel packed extra vials of mana fluid with quiet focus. Her graceful demeanor and beauty captured most of the adventurers around them.

Croko strutted into the center of camp like it was his stage—polished blue vest, feathered hat, and a grin that screamed showtime."Alright. First let me introduce our strongest team so far." He pointed towards his left side where at least ten strong looking adventurers stood.

"We have the famous Ace Adventurer Team from the Khankod Kingdom!" he announced, throwing his arms wide.

The ten serious looking figures stepped forward. Their leader was built like a siege engine—towering, scarred, half-armored, and grinning like a man who'd punched a dragon once and liked it. Jonas, the Brawler.

With one look, Auren can tell that he is a wall of muscle and arrogance.

"B-class adventurers," Croko boasted proudly. "Stronger than most knight battalions!"

Jonas cracked his knuckles, smirking. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Croko."Laughter rippled through his team.

Next, Croko gestured to a quiet man in white robes trimmed with green. The man stood slightly apart, composed, eyes steady as if he already knew how everyone here would die.

"And this fine gentleman is Samuel, leader of the Mage Leaf Company. Seven members strong—specialists in wide-area protection, scouting and of course, another B class team. They have mages, rangers, clerics. The best defense coin can buy."

Samuel inclined his head, voice calm as drifting sand. "We serve as the wind's shield. Stay close when the dunes rise."

Auren's gaze lingered. Too calm. Too measured. He never liked people who spoke like they'd already read the ending.

Then Croko turned sly, facing Alyssa. "And lastly… the Blue Bound. Small in number, but let's hear it from the lady herself."

Alyssa's brow twitched. "You make it sound like we're circus performers."

"Just giving you the spotlight you deserve, lady from the Katana family." Croko replied smoothly. It seems that he is already familiar of Alyssa's origin.

Alyssa stepped forward, posture sharp as her tone. "Alyssa of the Blue Bound. Captain. Blas here is our marksman. This one is Essel our healer from the Workers of Light monastry. And Herbon—our herbalist and strategist."

Jonas's laugh thundered through the air. "A healer and an herbalist? What's next, a bard with a pan flute?"His teammates snickered, smirks spreading like a bad infection.

"Who's gonna need healing when you have us?!"

Even Samuel's mouth curved in faint amusement. "Unusual composition," he murmured.

Alyssa's hand went to her sword, eyes cold and burning. "You want to test that theory?"

She hated the fact that everyone always belittle those from the Herbalist class.

Jonas grinned wider. "Oh? You think you can handle me, sweetheart—"

"Enough," Auren cut in, voice calm but heavy.

Every eye turned.

He lifted a short cylindrical weapon—metal gleaming under the morning light.

Jonas frowned. "What's that supposed to be? Some toy for—"

ZZZT-KABOOM!

The desert behind them erupted. A blast thundered across the dunes, shaking the sand underfoot. Smoke spiraled into the sky as the echo rolled like a living roar.

With that shot, those who had been laughing and mocking him was now quite like a statue. They could not imagine getting hit by such powerful weapon.

Jonas froze mid-word. Silence rippled through the camp.

Auren lowered the weapon casually. "Herbalist," he muttered.

"And demolitionist. I like to multitask."

Blas whistled under his breath. "That's our, Herbalist!"

Alyssa exhaled through her nose, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

Jonas turned away, muttering curses while Croko clapped too loudly, pretending he wasn't sweating.

"Excellent demonstration!" he said, voice cracking with forced cheer. "See, everyone? Blue Bound knows how to make an impression! Now—pack up! We move west!"

As the teams scattered, Auren's gaze lingered on the heavy rune-marked carriage at the rear. Chains glimmered under the sun, wards pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

Whatever was inside, it wasn't simple cargo.

When the caravan rolled out, the sun blazed above and the sands shimmered like gold dust on fire. Dozens of wagons creaked across the dunes, flanked by armed escorts and banners snapping in the wind.

Croko's pale assistant rode close behind him, whispering, "Sir… why not take the Austerra route? It's shorter."

Croko's grin faded. "Because that road's watched," he said sharply. "The elves guard the border now. If they catch wind of what I carry, we'll be skinned alive and hanged on those giant trees before sundown."

The assistant swallowed. "So we go through Maalah and Phili instead? That would add at least three days longer on our journey."

"Better late than dead. After all, why do you think we have made so much preparation?" Croko muttered, glancing back at the prisoner wagon. "Keep it sealed. If the wards flicker, we're finished. But as long as we can deliver this elf to the dwarfven king, that legendary artifact should be mine and all our efforts will not in vain!"

Auren, riding near the rear, caught enough of that to feel the chill crawl up his spine.

'Be patient...' he told himself.

Days passed in rhythm—the rattle of wheels, the sting of heat, the silence of long miles.

Every morning, Croko checked the carriage himself, feeding mana into the runes. The air around it always carried that same faint scent of jasmine, sweet and out of place in the desert. It lingered. Always.

By the fourth night, Auren's suspicions hardened into certainty.

Near the dying fire, he spoke quietly beside Alyssa. "Tell me something. Are humans ever allowed to capture elves?"

She looked puzzled. "No. Not unless the elf kills a human first. Why?"

Auren's eyes shifted toward Croko's wagon. "Because his 'cargo' isn't a thing—it's a person. An elf. I heard him brag in Doong. Said it was a gift for the Dwarven King."

Blas, half-asleep nearby, sat up. "An elf? Then maybe the bastard deserves it. They've looked down on us humans for years!"

Auren frowned. "Not all of them. Most just keep to their own in Runewood- I think."

Essel's hands trembled slightly. "If that's true, it's wrong. The Elves and Dwarves were allies once…"

Alyssa cut her off, her voice low but firm. "We're not here to play judge. We took a quest. We finish it. That's the rule."

The fire popped. The silence after was heavier than the night itself.

Auren didn't argue. But his eyes stayed fixed on that carriage long after the others slept.

The journey dragged on.

Through Maalah's canyons where vultures circled. Across Phili's ruins, where stone giants of a dead age jutted from the sand. Heat shimmered so fiercely it bent the world like glass.

And every night, the mana pulse in that wagon grew stronger—alive and waiting.

Then, on the fifth day, the storm came as they reached the borders of the desert territory.

A wind like a monster's breath rolled from the horizon. Sand twisted into walls. The world turned orange and black.

"Sandstorm!" Samuel's shout cut through the wind. "Shields up!"

Mage Leaf's circle flared green as they summoned barriers of wind just enough to protect the main group.

Alyssa shouted orders. "Stay with the wagons! Protect the healers!"

The storm hit hard. Sand shredded skin and vision. The air screamed. Wagons were almsot overturned, beasts panicked, men shouted into the roaring void.

Auren shielded Essel with his cloak as debris tore past. The wind barrier flickered dangerously. When it finally eased, the camp lay wrecked—half the wagons buried in sand, the rest cracked and splintered.

Croko stumbled out, coughing. "Everything intact?"His assistant nodded shakily."Good," Croko rasped. "We move at dawn."

Three more days crawled by in heat and silence. But Auren could feel it—something in that carriage wasn't sleeping anymore.

Then dawn came like fire.

They entered the heart of Thunga. The dunes glowed red, the air vibrating with tension and heat.

'Not good.' Auren felt the vibrations and he immediately knew something is coming.

Then the ground started to shake stronger.

A low rumble. A rising tremor. The kind that screams run.

"Sandworm!" Auren shouted.

The desert split.

A colossal sandworm erupted, jaws wide enough to swallow a wagon whole. Then another. And another.

"Formation!" Alyssa yelled, drawing her blade. "Protect the client and the wagon!"

Chaos burst alive.

Jonas leaped onto a worm's back, smashing with fists like thunder while smiling excitedly.

"Finally some action! hahaha!"

Samuel's team summoned tornados.

"Get the ones closer to the wagon!"

Blas's arrows streaked through the storm, precise and deadly.

Auren moved on his own, firing mana rounds into the dunes. "Essel! Field Bloom now! now!"

"On it!" she shotued back while waving her staff.Explosions boomed. Sand and fire collided.

Then the largest worm crashed straight into Croko's wagon. The wards that hid the prisoner shattered. Chains snapped like brittle twigs. Runes exploded into blue fire.

Croko screamed, "No! Not that one!"

The explosion tore through the storm. Mana burst across the battlefield, forcing everyone to the ground.

When the dust cleared and the sandworms are taken out, silence fell.

Only broken wood, scattered chains, and an open cage remained.

Auren stood frozen.

From within the wreckage, a figure rose slowly—silver hair tangled, wrists bound in massive glowing chains, skin glowing faintly with darker tone. Her eyes—those unmistakable emerald eyes—met his.

Auren's breath stopped.

"J-Jaira!?,"

The wind carried the scent of jasmine again, soft and haunting.

And for the first time in years, Auren's heart ached at the sight of his battered childhood friend.