Paladin of the Dead God

Chapter 350: The Salt Desert (3)

After the attack by the Desert Phantom, the journey through the Salt Desert thankfully remained uneventful.

Some soldiers began showing signs of fatigue, but Isaac, keeping a watchful eye from the rear, ensured no one fell behind. In a place like this, lagging meant death, so the soldiers pressed on, clenching their jaws.

The endless expanse of the salt desert created mirages that drained the soldiers’ spirits and added to their exhaustion.

Curious, Isaac asked Aidan, “This might sound like a dumb question, but doesn’t salt dissolve in seawater? How is it that this salt desert lies right next to the sea yet doesn’t melt away?”

Originally, he had thought it was simply a “miracle of divine omnipotence.” However, the question was related to how they planned to retrieve the god of the Salt Council from beneath this desert.

He knew methods involving relics, rituals, and sacrifices, but a thought struck him—what if they could just flood the salt desert with seawater and dissolve it all?

Aidan, looking slightly uneasy, began to explain. “I don’t know the exact details, but from observing the coastline and seafloor on our way here, I believe that the Mirmia coastline forms a sort of basin.”

“Like a bowl?”

“Yes. When the Lighthouse Keeper raised that cursed sun, the seawater in the basin began evaporating. As the water level dropped, seawater continued to flow in, only to evaporate just as quickly… I’ve heard the process was rapid and abrupt. There’s even a legend that the curses within the resulting vapor gave rise to the storms in the Nightmare Strait.”

As the tidal flows and waves repeatedly caused seawater to seep in and evaporate, the water levels gradually slowed, with the salt forming a massive ridge. Eventually, the evaporation rate outpaced the inflow, creating a salt barrier that prevented further seawater entry. Any water that seeped in would dry up, solidifying into the barrier itself.

Thus, even now, the Salt Desert’s terrain lay below average sea level.

Isaac even wondered if this disaster had slightly lowered sea levels across the world.

***

Under normal circumstances, by the end of the day, they would have spotted Mirmia through the heat haze. It looked like a mirage at first, but upon closer inspection, it was unmistakably Mirmia.

Even though this ancient city had been abandoned for a thousand years, it stood imposing and grand, a city turned to ruin yet filled with enduring splendor.

Just then, a group of riders approached from Mirmia.

“Sir Grail Knight!”

The rider leading the charge was Lianne Georg. She carried the holy sword Lumiarde, which radiated a pleasant chill in the arid air.

Isaac immediately moved to the front of the column.

“Did Elil’s forces suffer any casualties?”

“Oh, no, just a few horses that got worn out, but they’re recovering. No lives were lost.”

Relieved that the heat precautions for Elil’s army had worked, Isaac nodded. He had been worried that the knights from the cool northern lands might struggle with the heat, but they had proven resilient, fighting with the same tenacity that kept them standing even after dozens of wounds on the battlefield.

“As you suspected, the ruins are in relatively good condition for an abandoned site. Some soldiers mentioned feeling uneasy, but it seems stable enough for the whole army to stay. We’ve also located a well.”

Isaac nodded. “Good. Sir Rottenhammer is guiding the stragglers from the rear, so please help redistribute their burdens.”

“Understood.”

With Lianne’s return, the Issacrea Dawn Army’s pace increased, and as the soldiers grew excited about reaching the legendary ancient city, they whispered legends to each other. Yet, as the grand city of Mirmia loomed closer, they fell silent.

This ancient city, untouched by rain and left desolate for nearly a thousand years, looked as if it had become a mummified relic of its past glory, preserved from the day disaster had struck.

The cursed sun hanging overhead glowed a dull, ominous red, not as bright as the real sun, and its burning corona resembled the whites of an eye watching them from above.

Because this cursed sun had caused the sea to evaporate and the water level to recede, Mirmia, once a port, now stood on a hill like a fortress. The former harbor, once bustling as a southern center, was now a graveyard of hundreds of ships, half-buried in salt, giving the landscape an eerie, deathly feel.

As Lianne had said, the city itself was in surprisingly good condition for a place left untouched for a millennium.

Though some buildings had collapsed or were partially buried, most of the structures remained eerily intact, as if people might still emerge from them at any moment. The fact that such a vast city was utterly deserted only added to the eerie atmosphere.

Lianne, shivering slightly, asked, “Where did everyone who lived here go?”

“They scattered across the world. Those left in the city couldn’t sail and fled into the desert, while those abroad heard about the catastrophe at home and tried to return, only to drown… or ended up settling at other ports,” Aidan replied calmly.

The Salt Council traced its faith back to this land, to Mirmia. The Mirmians, once sea worshipers, had been driven to wander the world as exiles after the catastrophe.

The people who managed to survive were mainly those who had ships and were out at sea when disaster struck. Naturally, these scattered people eventually converged on new ports for survival.

Though a thousand years had passed, and bloodlines had mixed, the tradition lived on. Aidan himself might even be a distant descendant of those people.

But bloodlines weren’t what bound the Salt Council. Their shared purpose was to retrieve the god buried beneath the Salt Desert.

Aidan gazed at the cursed sun hanging over Mirmia, his expression filled with mixed emotions.

“And yet, we have returned. Even though that sun still looms.”

***

Elil’s forces had set up the camp as Isaac had instructed.

As soon as they arrived, Isaac ordered everyone—commanders, officers, knights, paladins, priests, and soldiers alike—to rest, save for a minimal guard detail.

Elil’s army, being not only experts in combat but also adept at setting up camps, quickly arranged their resting area, allowing the soldiers to relax without much trouble.

“Sir Isaac, would it be all right if I explored the city a bit?”

The one who resisted resting was none other than Aidan, the captain and archaeologist from the Salt Council.

Isaac gave him an incredulous look, noting that Aidan didn’t have the stamina of a knight and still hadn’t taken any real rest.

“Shouldn’t you take a break?”

Aidan scratched his head sheepishly. “I can’t seem to sleep, really… I can’t stop thinking about where we are.”

For Aidan, both as a member of the Salt Council and as an archaeologist, the thrill of standing in this historic place left his heart too restless for sleep.

Looking around with a nostalgic expression, he continued, “Honestly, I’ve never had a particularly strong attachment to the Salt Council. My curiosity about ancient sites has always been my main drive. I thought I’d just find Mirmia interesting, but… actually being here feels different.”

“Different, how?”