The buildings and streets were coated in a thin layer of sand, their surfaces cracked but surprisingly clean. What drew Frye's attention most wasn't the architecture, but the crowds—lively, loud, and clustered around rows of small markets.
At first glance, all the market stalls looked identical. What set them apart were the employees: on one side, shouting so passionately it bordered on violence; on the other, an employee practically licking a customer's boots.
Frye was still clueless about the sudden… transmigration? No—teleportation. His body remained intact, yet his surroundings had changed completely. The endless ocean with no land in sight had become a bustling desert kingdom, its structures buried under layers of sand.
From where he stood, Frye spotted a massive building to his upper right. A palace—standing atop what must once have been a hill, now swallowed by dunes. Curiously, though the kingdom was blanketed in sand, the palace itself was untouched, pristine.
'What is this place? I've never seen anything like it…'
"Hey, lad! Yeah, you—in the fancy robe! You look pale. Want to try this magical soul-healing scroll? Rumor says it was crafted by the Golden Grain Sand Soul himself!"
An elderly merchant with dark skin and traditional Middle Eastern-style clothing waved him over. His tone was rude, but in this desert kingdom, rudeness was just another marketing tactic.
Merchants intentionally provoked men on the street, hoping they'd argue back—giving the merchant a chance to display their "rare treasures," which were usually fakes. They targeted young men who looked wealthy but inexperienced.
Frye was the perfect prey.
He might look like a young adult, but inside, he was still ten. The merchant's jab annoyed him just enough for him to walk toward the stall.
'I'm not mad… I'm just hungry anyway,' Frye muttered to himself.
Meanwhile, the merchant grinned internally. 'Jackpot. Those robes practically scream he's no commoner…'
"Hello, mister. I don't need the scroll, but I am very hun—"
"This scroll is practically bestowed from the heavens, and you're telling me you don't want it?! It's the only one on the continent for us low-lives! Even if you don't like it, boy, you can resell it for a fortune!"
Of course, it was nonsense. These scrolls were common among people who actually needed them. For normal humans, they were useless.
Still, the merchant wasn't lying on purpose. If someone truly believes their own misinformation… is it really lying?
He wasn't wrong about it being crafted by a heavenly being, but that didn't make it priceless. A prodigy's ordinary lesson may seem divine to outsiders—but to their students, it's just another day.
Frye reconsidered the scroll. "Who even is the Golden Grain Sand Soul anyway?"
If the creator was a king or some high-ranked healer, then selling the scroll might give him a massive profit.
Despite his young age, Frye's mind was unmatched at his academy.
"You don't know the Golden Grain Sand Soul?! What're you doing—living under a rock? He's the heir to the largest kingdom in the Dunes! Now are you interested, boy?"
Frye's mouth opened slightly, his eyes shining. 'The heir to the entire Dunes Continent?! I remember the four continents… the Dunes is the second largest landmass!'
A thought flashed into his mind.
"Then why don't you sell the scroll? Wouldn't it make you rich?"
"Boy, you've got much to learn. Nobody believes me. And how exactly am I supposed to prove it? It's not like a commoner like me can march into the Almighty Kingdom—much less the palace!"
Frye understood instantly. You didn't need to be an adult to grasp common sense.
'Wait… could this scroll teleport me to other areas too?'
With that possibility, Frye made up his mind. He would buy the scroll—and hopefully some food as well.
There was only one problem.
He didn't have any money.