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墨書 Inktalez
Crimson blood fell like raindrops onto the ground, splattering into shocking crimson flowers. The grotesque corpses of the Boarfolk lay scattered across the terrain, exuding a foul stench that seemed to narrate the fierce and bloody battle that had just taken place.
The guards, struggling against the nauseating odor, toiled to drag the Boarfolk bodies deeper into the desert. Logically, there was no need for deep burial; a gust of wind would soon sweep through, and the swirling sands would quickly cover this land, erasing all traces without a trace.
However, the stench of these Boarfolk was overwhelmingly potent, a stark contrast to the sweet aroma of strawberry tarts and fragrant porridge. The foulness not only lingered in the air but also penetrated deep into their bones, as if it aimed to break through the clouds and spread its scent for miles.
In desperation, John, the leader, had no choice but to order his men to bury the corpses as deeply as possible. If left unattended, allowing that foul odor to waft with the wind, it wouldn't be long before everyone here would be suffocated by it.
Despite the bodies being properly handled, the entire oasis was still filled with an unbearable stench. Those detestable Boarfolk had defecated everywhere, leaving piles of disgusting waste on the ground. As people walked through, they had to be careful not to step in these unpleasant surprises—perhaps better termed as shocks—resulting in them being splattered with filth.
Damn it! What a stroke of bad luck!
John could no longer suppress his anger and disgust; a string of profanities escaped his lips.
As he cursed under his breath, he bent down to pick up a rough piece of bark and scrubbed at his soiled boots. After finally managing to clean them off somewhat, John dragged his weary body into the camp that his guards had prepared.
Once inside the camp, John could finally breathe a little easier. Although the pungent smell still hung in the air, after enduring it for so long, he seemed to have developed some level of adaptation to this harsh environment. At least now he could temporarily set aside his fatigue and rest properly.
Sitting down, John soon noticed that the guards who had gone out to search for treasures in the oasis were returning one by one. The oasis was not large, and they hadn’t searched for long; yet after a thorough look around, they had found not even a hint of treasure—only their own bodies reeking with odor. The gusts of wind only served to remind them of their discomfort.
Ugh! Accompanied by wave after wave of retching sounds, John bent over, hands tightly covering his mouth as his body trembled uncontrollably.
After several bouts of dry heaving, he finally managed to calm his churning stomach and suppress the intense nausea that almost made him vomit bile.
However, after such turmoil, John knew full well that for several days ahead, he would likely be unable to eat anything at all.
At that moment, Kuiradi hurriedly pulled out what little water remained in his pouch and carefully offered it to John while softly saying, "My lord, would you like some water to soothe your throat or rinse your mouth?"
Hearing this, John lifted his head slightly and weakly glanced at Kuiradi's water pouch. He then slowly extended his hand and gently pushed it away while shaking his head in response.
"Let's skip it for now. We still don't know where we can replenish our fresh water supply, so every drop we can save counts. Besides, drinking from this lake is simply out of the question."
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