The Sandstorm Caravan carefully selects its trading partners.
Outside the Ark, the greatest threat wasn't beasts or monsters, but other humans, and making a living through trade among such people was no easy feat.
In the first place, the very fact that a group of merchants chose to travel across dangerous lands instead of establishing a base was highly unusual.
That's why I didn't plan on seeking out the Sandstorm Caravan directly. Instead, I intended to arrive at one of their contact points and summon them at my own pace.
Rather than having a fixed base, the Sandstorm Caravan had several contact points where they could be called upon through specific methods.
Of course, all those plans became meaningless after meeting Ayla, the Daughter of the Sands.
To put it positively, I had found a shortcut. But negatively, things were now unfolding in a direction I hadn't intended.
"This is it! Just over that ridge!"
Despite the considerable distance we had walked, Ayla still marched forward energetically.
For someone like me, who roamed Mount Noah as if it were my own home, this was nothing more than a casual stroll. But, as I already knew, Ayla was far from ordinary.
"The camp isn't exactly close. What were you doing there alone? It's not the kind of place to wander around by yourself."
"Oh, come on, does the location really matter? There's no such thing as a truly safe place anyway. Besides, you were traveling alone too."
She had a point.
I hadn't expected Ayla to respond like that, so I couldn't help but be slightly taken aback.
"I can handle myself."
"So, can I. If you hadn't saved me, I'd probably be running for my life right now. I may not look it, but I'm pretty fast on my feet."
Not long ago, she was talking about repaying the debt of saving her life, yet now…
"I don't know why you suddenly fell from the sky, but I don't really care. Everyone has their own circumstances. But that's not what's important. What matters is that you saved me when I was in danger. That must be fate, don't you think?"
Esther, who had been quietly listening beside me, nodded.
["You lost."]
'Shut up.'
While Esther was declaring my loss, Ayla spoke again.
"You have your own reasons too, don't you?"
"…Yeah."
"So do I."
I was at a loss for words.
I had no choice.
Objectively speaking, I was the one who had suddenly fallen from the sky.
If someone had to be considered more suspicious between Ayla and me, it was undoubtedly me.
["Two consecutive losses."]
'…'
I had asked an unnecessary question and ended up with nothing to show for it.
'In any case, one thing is clear.'
The Daughter of the Sands didn't just happen to be there by coincidence.
She was acting with a definite purpose.
'Then what is that purpose?'
Figuring that out might become the key to this entire deal.
"There it is!"
At Ayla's exclamation, a sizable camp began to reveal itself at her fingertips.
If not for her, I would have easily overlooked it, given how well it was camouflaged.
'Impressive.'
This was far more than just throwing up a few camouflage nets and covering them with leaves and branches.
There were likely optical camouflage devices operating throughout the area, making the camp even harder to detect.
On top of that, the collapsible fences surrounding the camp were charged with high-voltage electricity, ensuring protection against any potential threats.
'Of course, even this can't be considered completely safe… but given that we're outside the Ark, it's better than nothing.'
With all human cities except the Ark now in ruins, people still managed to survive outside.
Each in their own way.
And the Sandstorm Caravan was no different, surviving in this world through their own methods.
"This way."
Without hesitation, Ayla slipped through the optical camouflage and electric fences.
A single misstep could have resulted in her getting electrocuted by the high-voltage current, yet she moved as if it were nothing.
'Well, it is her home.'
To outsiders, those electrified fences might seem deadly, but for someone who had lived here all her life, they probably carried a different meaning.
Following Ayla's lead, I carefully navigated between the fences.
"Where did she run off to this time…?"
"Just let it go. It's not the first time. She'll figure things out on her own."
"Hey! That's not the right way!"
"Oh, my bad."
With the murmurs of conversation, the scenery inside the camp gradually came into view.
The Sandstorm Caravan.
Among the many factions outside the Ark, they were one of the rare merchant groups that had now revealed themselves before me.
'Hmm…'
I took in the scene.
There were no fewer than ten large tents lined up in a row, each one sturdy enough to withstand monster attacks on their own.
On top of that, the large transport vehicles scattered throughout the camp were unmistakably nuclear-powered rather than running on fossil fuels.
Only two factions had the capability to mass-produce such technology: the Ark and the now-destroyed Kronos.
That meant these vehicles had either been obtained through trade with the Ark or were remnants from Kronos.
'Still the same as ever.'
Despite all the technological advancements in the world, even the Ark would be reluctant to let optical camouflage systems and nuclear-powered vehicles leak outside.
Yet, for the Sandstorm Caravan, such vehicles were hardly a rarity.
'And… from what I can see, some of these goods are exactly what I've been looking for.'
The Ark may have been the center of this world, but its available goods were mostly limited to high-tech weapons and devices.
In contrast, the Sandstorm Caravan, with its active trade beyond the Ark, offered a much greater variety and uniqueness.
"Ayla!"
The moment we stepped into the camp, one of the caravan members greeted her.
"I'm back! Where's my father?"
"The Caravan Master is inside. And this guy…? No, never mind. I'm sure you know what you're doing. Go on in."
"Thanks. Keep up the good work."
Even from this brief exchange, I could tell what kind of position Ayla held within the Sandstorm Caravan.
Bringing an outsider to a place this well-hidden might have seemed reckless, but at their core, these people were merchants.
Merchants naturally had frequent contact with outsiders, so my presence here likely wasn't anything unusual for them.
"That's Uncle Will. He manages the caravan's ledgers."
"You called this a small merchant group."
"It's not that big, is it?"
"Looks plenty big to me."
"Depends on your perspective."
Ayla smiled playfully.
The Sandstorm Caravan might not have been massive in terms of size, but that didn't mean it lacked influence.
'The very fact that they trade with the Ark is enough to make them powerful.'
On top of that, according to Esther, they also did business with the Shadow Order. That alone spoke volumes about their capabilities.
As we made our way past the workers sorting goods, the leader of the Sandstorm Caravan and Ayla's father, Orgo Nasser, finally appeared before us.
As he was in the midst of directing the caravan members, Orgo Nasser spotted Ayla approaching from afar and hurriedly ran over.
"Ayla! Where on earth have you been? I've been looking for you everywhere!"
"I just went on a little outing."
"…Outing?"
At that word, Orgo Nasser's gaze naturally shifted to me, standing beside her.
"And this man is?"
"Oh, he's the one who saved me. My lifesaver."
"…Your lifesaver? You got yourself into trouble again, didn't you… No, forget it. Saying anything will just be a waste of my breath."
It was the same reaction I had seen from Will earlier.
Still the same as ever.
I had worried, even if only slightly, that with my early arrival, the Sandstorm Caravan might differ from what I knew. But that wasn't the case.
The Sandstorm Caravan remained unchanged.
Which meant that my task hadn't changed either.
Orgo Nasser extended his hand to me.
"I am Orgo Nasser, leader of the Sandstorm Caravan. I sincerely thank you for saving my daughter. She's so reckless that even I struggle to keep her under control."
"I'm not a kid."
"And yet, here we are. Hah!"
At first glance, they seemed like a warm, ordinary family.
And yet, to me, it was both familiar and foreign at the same time.
Not because they were pretending—Orgo and Ayla truly did share a close bond.
It was simply that such a sight wasn't something an outsider like me should be seeing so soon.
"If I may ask, what is your name, sir? Of course, if it's inconvenient, you don't have to say."
"Pawn."
"Sir Pawn! You saved my daughter's life, so I'd like to properly show my gratitude… Would that be alright?"
"There's no need for that."
"Ah, that's a shame. I was hoping to treat you… Hah, then what should I do? I simply must repay this debt somehow…"
One of the first rules of survival outside the Ark—never accept food or drink from others.
It was a matter of common sense, and Orgo Nasser, naturally, didn't insist further after I declined.
In this world, pressuring someone to accept hospitality wasn't just rude—it could easily be seen as suspicious.
At that moment, Ayla interjected.
"Don't worry, Father. There are plenty of ways to repay Sir Pawn besides simply treating him."
"Ah, you're right."
Ayla's gaze met mine.
"Sir Pawn."
Her golden eyes seemed to gleam even brighter than before.
And then, as if she had been waiting for this moment, Ayla launched into a passionate speech.
"Our Sandstorm Caravan may not be large, but we have thrived through trust, honor, and relationships with our clients."
"Are you looking for something? Come to us. Do you have something to sell? Come to us. We pledge on the name, honor, and reputation of the Sandstorm Caravan to offer you the best possible price."
"If you wish, we will treat you as a special client of our caravan from this day forward. After all, you are my lifesaver."
As I looked into the burning gold of her eyes, I finally understood the answer to the question that had been echoing in my mind this entire time.
…I see. So that's how it is.
Why was the Daughter of the Sands alone in such a dangerous place, surrounded by monsters?
It was unthinkable that she had simply wandered off and gotten lost.
Those who lived outside the Ark knew better than anyone how perilous these lands were.
Which left only one explanation—something had happened to the Sandstorm Caravan.
But that, too, seemed unlikely.
The Sandstorm Caravan, objectively and subjectively, was not a weak faction.
If they had been, they wouldn't have survived trading with so many different groups.
And yet… there's no sign of distress here.
The camp felt too peaceful.
And judging by the reactions of the others, they hadn't even noticed that Ayla had left the camp.
It wasn't just that she had run away.
The Daughter of the Sands had been completely alone in a remote, deadly place, without a single escort.
Had I not arrived when I did, she could have died.
And yet…
To my knowledge, the Daughter of the Sands survives all the way to the late stages.
Which meant that this—this entire situation—was something that should never have happened.
So, what had forced her into such danger?
The answer was painfully obvious.
All I had to do was think about who had arrived in this place.
…That ridiculous power of hers again.
The Golden Eyes.
The Daughter of the Sands' ability—a supernatural gift that allows her to read the flow of wealth itself.
The meaning behind it was clear.
I had not found the Daughter of the Sands.
She had been waiting for me.
She sees me as a source of profit.
Strictly speaking, she wasn't wrong.
After all, I had come to sell and buy a significant amount of goods from the Sandstorm Caravan.
To her, I was a valuable client.
However…
What Ayla had overlooked was the fact that I had been searching for her, too.
Not just her, but the entire Sandstorm Caravan.
It might have sounded like the same thing, but there was one crucial difference.
"Trade, huh…"
"Do you need some time to think?"
"No, I don't think that'll be necessary."
If there was one thing I had learned from my experience with the Sandstorm Caravan, it was that you should never give them what they want too easily.
This time was no exception.
"Then, does that mean—"
"Yeah, I refuse."
"…What? What did you just say—"
"I said, no."
"..."
The ever-smiling Daughter of the Sands suddenly went pale with shock.