The Hero Turned Into A Potato And The World Fell To Ruin

In the ancient desert city, Girunini and Calidora were seated on a terrace, enjoying shaved ice. Unwittingly, they had been staying in this city for a week already.

Initially, they planned to explore the city to find a direction out of the desert, but under Myza's hospital care, their stay was prolonged.

It wasn't that they weren't anxious to leave; it was just that such matters couldn't be rushed. After wandering in the desert for two months, they were both physically and mentally exhausted. It was way too easy to lose track of time after finally finding a place to rest and enjoy some shaved ice.

If it weren't for Calidora's constant thoughts of Mervant and their companions, she felt that she could, like the others who had chanced upon this place, be content to stay for a lifetime, never wanting to venture into the desert again.

As for Girunini…

Well, in a sense, the two were rather similar. But compared to the skeletal creatures that only appeared during a blood moon, these orange capes were more troublesome.

Girunini wasn't a capricious person, that Calidora knew. If one day, Calidora told her to leave, she would follow without a single complaint.

But if Calidora never said so…

She would just be like this, contentedly having her shaved ice and would probably not speak up regardless of how many days passed.

This was trust and understanding, but at the same time, it was also pressure.

Gazing up at the sky, Calidora sighed.

Then, she suddenly felt that something amiss.

"Strange, where is the moon tonight," Calidora wondered.

"Moon?" Girunini craned her neck, then looked all around before exclaiming, "Eh? Really, where did the moon go? There aren't even any clouds in the sky!"

"Strange… Speaking of which, have we seen it at all these few days?" Calidora said, rubbing her temples. " I haven't been paying attention and can't remember."

"Uhh… That's quite coincidental," Girunini mused. "I haven't been paying attention either."

Calidora stroked her chin, recalling the strange barrier she had sensed within the city, and a guess came to her head.

"Could that barrier be used to block the moonlight…"

Light was required to see things, after all. If the moonlight here was blocked, then naturally, the moon wouldn't be visible here.

"Let's wait and see what happens tomorrow," Calidora decided. "If it's still missing, perhaps we can ask Mr. Myza."

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Myza stood alone at the gates of the ancient city, hands behind his back, surveying the sprawling desert before him. The crescent moon above was blood-red, casting a chilling, crimson hue over his pale skin.

In front of him, several dozen soldiers in orange cloaks battled fiercely against countless skeletal beasts in the desert. They cooperated with each other, adeptly dismembering beast after beast.

It was evident they were experienced in combating these skeletal creatures, a skill honed from wandering the desert for an indeterminate amount of time. If they hadn't mastered handling common threats that emerged during a blood moon, they would have perished here long ago.

Myza was in deep contemplation while watching their battle. These beings unnerved him greatly. He had never before encountered beings whose eyes burned with such intense zeal. Not even the most fanatical cults displayed such pure frenzy.

These troubling entities seemed indifferent to their own injuries or the deaths of their companions. Each one was just focused on relentlessly assaulting the surrounding beasts.

Well, in a sense, the two were rather similar. But compared to the skeletal creatures that only appeared during a blood moon, these orange capes were more troublesome.

Since the first group perished outside the city a week ago, this was the third occurrence of such entities appearing outside the city walls.

There were two squads during the previous occurrence, which was four days after the first incident.

This time, three days later, brought about four squads.

Not only were these beings appearing more and more frequently, their numbers also increased with each time.

This wasn't a good sign.

Myza couldn't determine the origins of these beings but had a vague sense that they were very dangerous. Yet, he wasn't particularly concerned.

For if danger were to be measured, this desert itself was hardly inferior.

"Time to let them witness the ruthlessness of this desert," Myza muttered.

Yet, he didn't chant any incantations, nor did he reach for a weapon. There wasn't even a hint of magical energy fluctuating from his body.

He simply took a step forward, and that was all.

A sudden change happened in the next instant.

The blood moon's glow intensified, and the sky was dyed crimson.

The skeletal beasts momentarily froze, and in the next moment, as if driven by desperation, engaged in an even more furious onslaught. Even the dismembered and scattered bones on the ground reassembled skeletal creatures and rejoined the battle.

Meanwhile, the earth trembled as something massive was moving slowly beneath the thick layers of sand.

Suddenly, a gigantic bone claw, the size of an elephant, slowly emerged from the ground. It slammed violently onto the surface, pulling the rest of its body out of the sand.

It was the skeleton of a dragon. A skeletal dragon towering several dozen meters high.

The skeletal dragon raised his head and opened its jaws as if to let out a silent roar toward the blood-stained sky.

"Mm, that's it, then," Myza muttered to himself, turning around to head back into the city.

Behind him, the massive skeletal dragon swept down with its claws, instantly tearing through the defenses of these orange capes. Myza didn't need to look back to know the fate that awaited them.

This desert never returned the remains of what it devoured.

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Far away, in the deep sea.

Broken turtle shells and bits of innards drifted all around in the water dyed red with blood.

Atop a throne carved out of a coral, a middle-aged man in a crimson cape held a turtleman by the neck with one hand.

The turtleman wore a gorgeous coat of fish scale, had pearls adorning his neck, and a crown sculpted from diamonds.

Unfortunately, no matter how beautiful these decorations were, they only added to the sense of desolation when paired with his face full of despair.

"Turtle, you people really know how to hide in your shells." Despite being underwater, the middle-aged man's voice clearly echoed around. "For two centuries, you've been dodging and hiding with the ocean currents, wasting two hundred years of my time. And yet, what's the result? You all still end up as nothing but mud."

The turtleman struggled, generating countless incisive water currents faster than the speed of sound to continuously barrage the man before him.

However, the man's right hand was immovable as if cast from steel; he was completely indifferent to the turtleman's attacks.

"Ah, to be honest, I actually wanted to spare your life," the man said with a smile. "I've always wanted a pet, but cats and dogs, they die in just over a decade. So I thought, a sea turtle like you would be more suitable as my pet. What do you say? Would you consider it, leaving the last of your inferior race as a keepsake?"

The turtleman's eyes reddened upon hearing this, and he furiously swung his fists, pummeling the man's face relentlessly.

Unfortunately, he couldn't inflict any damage.

"Hah, goodness. It seems you are a fool after all," the man sighed, exerting some strength in his arm, and with a single squeeze, he crushed the turtleman's neck and spine until it was no thicker than a twig.

Then, he let go.

With rage and despair still etched on his face, the turtleman's corpse sank into the dark depths of the ocean.

Afterward, the man turned his head, looking in a certain direction.

"Four squads. Adding to the previous, a total of eight squads have been wiped out…" he muttered, then suddenly laughed.

"Interesting. I knew that there must be something hidden there. Looks like it's time to unveil that mystery."