Chapter 37: Before the Monsoon Arrives

Like a worm, he clung to the violently swaying rope, inching his way up.

The movement was ugly, but at least his grip was secure; he wouldn't easily fall.

"Faster! There's no time to climb slowly in actual combat!" The Ship Group Leader's rebuke came from the fishing boat simulating the Peak Mountain Dragon.

Aolang tried to speed up, but to be honest, while he had practiced rock climbing, few people specifically trained to climb ropes since the scenarios for doing so were rare.

Relying entirely on the Hunter's powerful grip and exceptional balance, he managed to stay hanging on the rope without being shaken off.

But expecting him to climb with agility and speed was really asking too much; even an elite Hunter like Senior Sai'er probably couldn't do it...

"It's not about using your hands! Use your legs to push your body up!" Sai'er, now standing on the fishing boat's deck, waved his hand and shouted advice.

How had he already climbed up?!

Aolang looked up in shock just as a crosswind struck; the small Sand Ship being towed beside the fishing boat swayed violently, and Asa, responsible for steering the Sand Ship, hurriedly adjusted the rudder to stabilize the hull.

In the process, the rope connecting the fishing boat and the Sand Ship went slack then snapped taut; caught off guard, Aolang was flung off the rope.

"Ahlun's Little Brother!" Sai'er on the fishing boat deck cried out and reached out, but the distance between them was too great to grab him; he could only watch helplessly as Aolang fell into the Sand Sea.

"Hah—" The Ship Group Leader beside him let out a breath. "Don't be so nervous. He was born and raised on this Sand Sea; he knows how to protect himself in situations like this."

Although the Ship Group Leader said so, Sai'er still couldn't hide his worry. Fortunately, only a few minutes later, another Sand Ship picked up Aolang who had fallen into the sand and brought him back to the fishing boat.

At this moment, Aolang was covered in sand and dust, with numerous scrapes on his face and arms, looking quite wretched, but thanks to his timely tucking of his body to absorb the impact, he avoided more serious injuries.

"If this were actual combat, you would be eliminated by this blow, or even dead. Do you understand?" The Ship Group Leader stared at Aolang, his tone severe.

"... Yes."

Seeing Aolang's solemn expression, the Ship Group Leader's tense face relaxed slightly.

"Good to know. Also, what I just said was nonsense. In actual combat, a safety rope will be tied around your waist; if you accidentally fall into the sand, you can climb back onto the Sand Ship along the safety rope."

Speaking of this, the Ship Group Leader paused for a second. "But don't think having a safety rope means everything is fine."

If you lose consciousness at the moment of falling into the sand and fail to climb back onto the Sand Ship along the safety rope in time, you will likely be dragged to death by the high-speed Sand Ship.

If you are severely injured and too weak to climb back along the safety rope, you must at least cut the safety rope, do you understand?

I don't want to see the situation again where, after the battle ends, a mangled corpse is still being dragged on the safety rope connecting the Sand Ship."

The fleet conducted joint training every two to three days; the rest of the time was spent repeatedly inspecting and repairing the Sand Ships to ensure the vessels were in optimal condition for battle at any moment.

The training during this period had been highly effective; Aolang, who previously could only hang on the rope like a worm, could now skillfully climb nearly vertical and violently swaying rigging.

Sai'er's personal demonstration was instrumental in this.

In terms of rope-climbing speed alone, many veterans in the Sand Ship Fleet couldn't compare to him; mastering such an obscure skill so excellently made Aolang's admiration for this senior even deeper.

As the Monsoon Season approached, merchants and tourists flocked in, making Locklak City increasingly lively, while the atmosphere within the Sand Ship Fleet grew increasingly heavy.

The so-called Monsoon Season is not a precise solar term; scholars, by statistically analyzing the arrival times of past monsoons and summarizing patterns, can only give an approximate time.

But in reality, the monsoon from the north is very willful; it might arrive early, or it might be delayed.

Even if the monsoon suddenly strikes right now, carrying sand and dust across the sky, it is not surprising.

To avoid being caught off guard, the Sand Ship Fleet has halted all joint training activities and ordered all combat personnel to remain on standby within the Dock, ready to intercept at any moment.

For someone like Asa who couldn't sit still, such days were like being in prison.

He spent all day thinking about driving a Sand Ship out for a spin, claiming it was to get a feel for the controls and ensure his skills didn't rust, but the result was naturally a scolding from the Ship Group Leader.

But for another group of people, such a life was strangely fulfilling, such as Aolang.

During these days, he followed Sai'er around training all day, shamelessly asking for instruction on One-Handed Sword techniques; it was only because Sai'er had a good personality and was willing to teach juniors that he didn't get impatient earlier.

In the process of training and exchange, Aolang discovered that even setting aside the chaotic "intruder techniques" like Demonization and Charged Attack, Senior Sai'er's style of using the One-Handed Sword was completely different from his own.

His style was offense; everything was for offense. He used the Shield like a hammer, sometimes like an axe; even when occasionally used for blocking, it was to create openings for the next attack.

Sai'er was the type with an extremely stable combat style; a Round Shield with a diameter of no more than half a meter was used by him to create the feeling of an immovable mountain, like a heavy defensive weapon such as a Lance or Gunlance.

But if you therefore mistake him for a defender specializing solely in defense, you would be gravely mistaken.

Quite the opposite; Sai'er was very skilled at using sliding steps, sliding tackles (Sliding Slash), and other methods to reposition during gaps in defense, drilling under a Monster's belly and other blind spots to launch Guerilla attacks.

Stability and agility, two traits that should be completely unrelated, merged perfectly in him, completely changing Aolang's perception of the One-Handed Sword, the so-called "beginner's Weapon."

Relying on his own special talent, combined with Sai'er's unreserved guidance, Aolang quickly learned the roaming technique Sai'er called "Sliding Slash."

Of course, at present, he had only learned it at the level of movement; to truly apply this move in actual combat, he still needed more training and practice.

And such growth was not one-sided.

Initially, Sai'er indeed held the thought of mentoring a junior, but through the exchange over this period, he similarly drew a lot from this strange junior.

Things like Demonization, Shield Wild Dance, or One-Handed Charged Slash; he certainly couldn't learn these bizarre moves, but Aolang's many ideas, which transcended the conventional logic of One-Handed Sword users, gave him a lot of inspiration.

His portable memo pad was almost filled with these chaotic ideas; most of them were meaningless delusions to him, but he always felt he could extract something meaningful from them...

If possible, they all hoped this peaceful life could last a bit longer, but obviously, the arrival time of the Desert Monsoon would not change due to personal wishes.

North of Locklak, deep within the Sand Sea.

The hot air balloon responsible for observing the monsoon floated high above as usual; due to the lack of water vapor in the Desert and the rarity of clouds, as long as it wasn't a sandstorm, visibility extended very far.

Suddenly, the small windmill used to measure wind speed began to spin with a "whoosh," catching the attention of the Ancient Dragon Observation Bureau scholars on the hot air balloon.

The elderly yet still agile Dragon Race scholar raised his telescope and gazed northward.

On the horizon of rolling sand dunes, the gray-yellow sand and dust blown up by the strong wind looked like a wall with no visible end, slowly but firmly pushing horizontally.

The scholar hurriedly threw the telescope aside, took out a Signal Flare, and fired it.

The Monsoon has come!