Chapter 13: A Farewell Without Goodbyes
"Such a rare opportunity, and you really have nothing to say to that girl?" Madou asked Mord as she watched him.
Mord wiped a glass in his hand and replied casually, "If I have something to say, I prefer to say it face to face."
Besides, Mord had nothing to say to Machi in the first place.
Madou nodded. "Those people earlier were her companions—members of the Phantom Troupe."
"Every member of the Phantom Troupe is a high-risk Class A criminal wanted by the World Government. That girl is no exception. So unless you have the strength to back it up, whatever you want to say will have to wait a long time."
Seeing Madou's solemn expression, Mord knew she genuinely cared.
The Phantom Troupe had countless enemies. Even one or two of them would be more than Mord could handle now.
"Alright, tell me—when are you planning to leave?"
There was no way Madou could have missed the preparations Mord had been making these past days. Not that he'd tried to hide them.
"In the next couple of days," Mord answered truthfully.
After a long silence, Madou finally said, "...Fine. Don't bother saying goodbye when you go."
Perhaps sensing this day would come, Madou had gone out early that morning to stock up on supplies from the inner district. That evening, she prepared an extravagant feast.
The next day.
Mord left without a sound, just as he'd promised—no farewells.
Madou looked around the empty bar and chuckled wryly. "That brat. Never listened when I told him not to train, but now he's suddenly obedient."
As she turned to fetch a bottle from the shelf, an envelope fluttered down.
Madou caught it.
On the envelope: "From Mord."
...
By now, Mord was already hundreds of miles beyond Meteor City, deep in an endless desert.
Beyond the desert lay the territory of the United States of Saherta—home to Yorknew City, where the Phantom Troupe would later wreak havoc at the underground auction.
Mord pulled out a world map from his pocket and studied it carefully. Along with basic survival supplies, a map was an essential resource.
Currently, the entire human world is dominated by five superpowers.
These five superpowers form the World Government, known as V5. Even an organization as powerful as the Hunter Association exists under their influence.
The five great nations are the Begerossé Union, the United States of Saherta, the Mimbo Republic, the Federation of Ochima, and the Kukan'yu Kingdom—the five countries that successfully brought back the five great calamities from the Dark Continent.
One of Mord's goals in leaving Meteor City was to retrieve something Zald had left with the Hunter Association. Mord had a strong premonition that the item was somehow connected to the mysterious Dark Continent.
The next Hunter Exam happened to coincide with the "plot year," and Mord remembered that the location was in the territory of the Kukan'yu Kingdom on another continent.
Thus, Mord's journey led him northward, with the first stop being the port of Reaif at the northernmost tip of the Yorbian Continent.
He traced a line on the map with his finger.
Mord scrutinized the map over and over before finally letting out a long sigh.
Damn it, I'm actually lost.
I should have brought a guide familiar with this desert.
In the vast desert, the usefulness of a map was severely limited, and the only helpful companion—his camel—had been stung to death by a venomous scorpion that appeared out of nowhere.
The first step out of Meteor City was already proving difficult.
As expected, this world should never be underestimated, no matter the circumstances.
Mord folded the map and put it away, then glanced at the sky.
After traveling nonstop for two days, dusk was about to fall again. He needed to find a place to rest soon.
Just as Mord was thinking this, he heard the faint sound of jingling bells in the distance.
A camel caravan.
Mord looked up and, sure enough, a long line of camels slowly came into view.
Abel was a renowned martial artist in Saint Modo City. Though not particularly burly, his physique exuded strength—rumor had it he had once single-handedly killed a brown bear.
He ran a martial arts school in the area and was highly respected by the locals.
The Black Rose Trading Company had hired Abel for this journey because their cargo had to traverse this endless desert—a journey too perilous without his expertise.
Under normal circumstances, Abel might not have taken the job, even though the Black Rose Trading Company had always treated him with courtesy. But this time, his destination happened to align with theirs.
That was why he accepted the task.
Throughout the journey, Abel had been dutiful, helping the caravan fend off multiple waves of desert bandits.
The merchants, watching Abel at the head of the caravan, breathed a collective sigh of relief. They were nearing the end of the desert, with just one more day's travel before reaching the city of Reaif.
Once they delivered the cargo to the port, the mission would be successfully completed.
Everyone was already thinking about how they would spend their earnings in the city. After all, Reaif was a bustling port city, far more prosperous than their inland home of Saint Modo.
There would be plenty of ways to enjoy themselves.
The younger members of the group exchanged knowing smiles.
Just then, one of them—a young man wearing a headscarf—pointed into the distance and shouted, "Hey, is that a person over there?"
"Where? I don't see anything. Are you hallucinating, Aljer?" His companion rubbed his eyes and spoke up.
"Right there."
Hearing the chatter from the merchants behind him, Abel, who had been lying on his camel with his eyes closed to rest, suddenly opened his eyes and sat up straight. He squinted slightly as he looked in the direction of their argument.
Sure enough, there was a figure in the distance.
"There's indeed someone ahead, and they're walking toward us," Abel said with a grim expression.
"Is it a sand bandit?"
At Abel's words, the merchants visibly panicked.
Abel shook his head lightly. "Unlikely. Sand bandits don't operate alone like this. In fact, no one would travel through the desert like this—without even a camel."
Jin Kaka, the head of the merchant group, spoke up, "Perhaps they got separated from their companions in a sandstorm. Everyone faces hardships when traveling. Let's see the situation and help if we can."
The two parties moved toward each other and soon met.
From his elevated position on the camel, Abel carefully observed the stranger. He was young, with traces of wind and sand on him, yet his demeanor was calm—nothing like someone in distress.
Signaling the caravan to halt, Abel called out, "I am Abel from the city of Saint Modo. Friend, do you need any assistance?"
Mord smiled. "I was heading to the city of Reaif, but I lost my way in the desert. Hearing the camel bells, I came to ask for directions. I apologize if I've disturbed you."