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It was high noon.
Above the withered yellow desert, the sun hung fiercely in the sky.
Waves of heat kept on assaulting us, and the sand grains beneath our feet were scorching enough to frighten.
Hunger and the depletion of physical ability made one dizzy and blurred.
Cang Xu and Zi Di staggered as they walked, nearly collapsing to the ground on their knees several times.
In light of this, Lord Zhenjin and others had no choice but to take refuge in the shadows of the dunes for rest.
Bai Ya remained unconscious, while the other three struggled to catch their breaths.
It seemed as though the gods, in a rare act of mercy, pitied these wretched souls—the desert wind began to blow.
The wind was not strong, but it mitigated some of the scorching heat.
Under the caress of the wind, the wind-facing slope of the sand dunes churned with fine sand, while on the leeward side, the sand flowed like it was pouring out.
