The sun had barely risen when Nasir opened his eyes.
The air felt different.
Warmer… heavier… as if the entire world was holding its breath.
He sat up inside the small stone room the villagers had prepared for him. Yesterday, he had completed his veil progression in secret. Today, his body felt sharper—thoughts quicker, senses broader. The world's whispers were clearer than before.
He stepped outside.
Stretching endlessly beyond the village was a golden desert—the Whispering Sandsea, the largest desert in Arkrania. The sands seemed calm on the surface, but beneath them endless dangers slept: hidden tribes, ancient ruins, forgotten spirits.
Nasir exhaled slowly.
"Volume Two begins here," he murmured to himself.
A few villagers were already awake, carrying water pots or preparing breakfast. When they noticed him, they bowed respectfully—some with confusion, some with awe. Nobody knew exactly who he was, but everyone understood one thing:
He was not normal.
A small girl, holding a clay cup, stared at him curiously.
"Sir Nasir… are you leaving today?"
He nodded. "I have things to do."
The girl hesitated, then pointed to the desert.
"Mother says the Sandsea eats people."
Nasir smiled faintly.
"It only eats those who fear it."
Before she could ask more, a strong gust of wind rushed through the village. Sand spiraled into the sky, forming strange patterns—almost like runes.
Nasir's eyes narrowed.
A message.
His newly awakened perception caught faint traces… whispers hiding inside the wind.
"Nasir… come…"
"…depths…"
"…ruins… awaken…"
The voice wasn't human.
It wasn't of this era.
Nasir immediately understood.
The Sandsea was calling him.
A new arc, a new path.
He walked toward the desert, his expression as unreadable as ever. Each step sank slightly into the warm sand.
Behind him, the village elder hurried forward.
"Nasir! You truly plan to enter the Sandsea now?"
His voice trembled. "Storm season begins today. Even the greatest hunters don't dare enter!"
Nasir didn't stop walking.
"I'm not a hunter."
The elder gulped. "Then what are you?"
Nasir turned his head slightly—eyes calm, voice flat:
"Someone looking for answers."
A low rumble echoed in the distance, as if the desert itself responded.
The first grains of a coming sandstorm brushed past his cheek.
The elder stepped back instinctively.
Nasir entered the Sandsea alone.
And as he walked deeper, the whispers grew louder—more chaotic—more urgent.
"Veils shifting…"
"Dominion stirring…"
"Prince returns…"
Nasir paused.
Prince.
Not his past life name.
Not his title.
A secret identity only ancient beings should know.
So how…?
A shadow passed under the sand, enormous, worm-like, circling him silently.
Nasir's eyes sharpened.
"Show yourself," he said quietly.
The sand exploded upward—something monstrous rising beneath it.