Chapter 3: Reconstruction group (1/2)
//Text in [xxx] is a translation of the ancient. There is deeper translation in para comments/author notes
”Ugh, I knew deserts were dangerous, but I didn't realize just how much…” Muttering to himself as he continued to walk forward, Layn swiped the sweat from his forehead. No matter how long did he travel, the dune beyond which the oasis awaited wasn't getting any closer.
Or at least, that's how it seemed for the archmage.
Step by step, he continued to walk through the endless sands with the scorching heat of the sun frying his back. With only the simplest of the clothing weaved from the magic energy itself covering Layn's skin, he could only dream of something to shield himself from the unrelenting rays.
'Strange… I know this is a desert… But how come there is so little magic in the air?' As his walk continued to extend into what seemed like an infinity, Layn couldn't ignore this matter any longer.
'Could it be some kind of hidden place that managed to avoid the influence of the culling? Nah, not possible.' No matter what kind of possibility Layn attempted to rationalize, it all fell short of the mark of logical solution. After all, no matter what the place was, the air was capable of sneaking literally everywhere.
Because from the looks of it, as soon as Layn got close enough to those foreign voices to discern the specific words… he still couldn't understand a word.
'Wait, I think I heard this somewhere… Don't fucking tell me…' With a sudden realization striking the man like a lightning, his face suddenly swollen up in a huge disappointment mixed with relief. After a few more moments during which Layn was splitting his efforts between climbing the dune and listening to the strange language, the realization finally struck his head.
As strange an accent as those people were using, there was no denying one simple fact. The tongue that they were using, was a bastard form of the legendary ancient tongue that Layn studied even before his time as a member of the hero party!
Outside of some strange academics infatuated with ancient history, only one kind of people could speak this language as fluently as the people Layn was listening to could.
Reconstruction groups.
Sprouting like flowers ever since the world entered a relatively peaceful era, they were a fun way for the rich to waste their money away while the poor could make an easy profit out of the counterfeit ancient goods. Only this kind of people could bother to learn an entire language just for the sake of keeping their little plays even a bit closer to the realism of the years-long gone.
And from the sound of the things, it seemed like the group that Lay was about to encounter, belonged to the absolute top ranks in terms of dedication!
Finally taking the last few steps to arrive at the top of the sandhill, Layn could finally take a closer look at the oasis and the people in it.
'Gosh, they really are abandoning all the reason for this hobby.' Even a single look was enough for Layn's lips to form a thin, perfectly straight line. With his eyelids lowering halfway, he started at the peculiarly dressed group for a moment before releasing a deep sigh and descending down the dune.
Form the delicate robes that seemed to magically flutter on the wind, through some clothes that hardly even pretended to hide anything all the way to the thick furs worn on the naked arms by several warrior-looking guys. As cheap and tattered as the clothing of this group looked for the most part, Layn had no doubt that each of those outfits could cost as much as an entire village!
”Krashar ketense!” [Bring the drinks]