The Oasis of Misfortune was nothing like its counterpart on Earth. He had been to a fair few thanks to all the tournaments, especially those in the Middle East, and all he remembered were the scorching beige sand on the outside and a complete rejuvenation when stepping into the spring. The exhilaration of fresh water seeped into every single pore on his skin, plucked the sand out, reassured and massaged his body with its kindness, making the hellish walk to one worthwhile.

  Here, he couldn’t say the same for either the effort or the lackluster payoff. Sure, he had burned away one extra talisman on top of Shinnya’s ball of fire and stopped occasionally to teach monsters a lesson about death, but in the end, it was still only a walk in the park.

  Where were all the mighty sand dunes? Anything resembling a roasting heat source? None. Just slightly softer ground hosting mounds of dirt and a lonely palm tree here and there.

  Oh, at least there was light here—soft pink on the crossover to ocean-blue, emanating from webs of lines blurring beneath the ground. Everything was visible thanks to it, but only with minimum quality, like watching a YouTube video in 240p. Damn, imagine having that technology here. Those content creators would swarm this place already.

  He roamed along the border of the oasis, enjoying the breezy touch of the pink-blue light on his skin while looking out for the spot Josef had mentioned. Three mounds and two palm trees forming a line? Wouldn’t be hard to find it with how specific the condition was.

  “58? What is that guy doing here?”

  His ears caught a whisper from the direction of the right wall. There were still adventurers here? Didn’t Shinnya mention this place as the end of the adventure?

  He kept his course. Unless they had underhanded motivation, better pretended he hadn’t noticed.

  Though soon, one voice became many. There was a group in front. Probably several hundred meters ahead. Good or bad, he didn’t know, but unless he headed straight into the oasis, an encounter seemed inevitable.

  But just to be safe, he zigzagged along the route a bit, entering and stopping here and there inside the oasis, pretending to look for something.

  “A lone wanderer?” Another whisper, followed by a warning. “Guys. We have company.”

  Here we go. He signaled Cokhi to be on standby in case something was wrong and kept walking. His eyes finally spotted a group of five gathering at the foot of a big mound, with one standing on top—a lean person wearing a striped vestment of orange and black.

  “Level 58?” one guy sitting in a petal posture said. “Another poor soul testing his luck.”

  “You over there. Where’s your party?” A giant stepped forward, hand holding an equally big axe—red shaft, double white blades, the kind Vikings used in those movies of epic battles. The giant was almost double the size of a normal person, dense beard, saliva spurting as he talked.

  “Hi there. I’m Zalanir, here for the treasure.” He greeted them with a practiced line.

  “Just you?”

  “Yeah. Go big or go home.” Zalanir grinned. Hopefully, it didn’t come off too forced.

  Except for the person on top, those four behind the giant snorted. A guy in yellow armor rolled his eyes; two who looked like a couple turned their focus toward a piece of tainted parchment.

  The lowest-leveled member among them was the guy in petal posture, at 98. Zalanir couldn’t even see the level of the giant or the figure atop the mound. Since Identify let him see up to one-third of a grade higher than his own level, this meant those two were on the verge of breaking into late C-grade or could probably pass that already. Luckily, those adventurers didn’t seem hostile or carried bad intentions.

  “A piece of advice, go home, young man. Saw tons of you throwing your lives away already. This isn’t a place for you,” the giant said.

  “Thank you. I will be careful and stay on the border only. Don’t want to return empty-handed.”

  Another round of snickers. Yeah, they made zero attempt to even hide their derision. Perfectly normal in this situation. In their eyes, he was likely an overconfident fool, which worked in his favor. Better to attract no attention.

  “I shall take my leave then. I should search this place before all the treasures were gone. Good luck to you all.” He fisted his other palm, mimicking the gesture in those Xianxia movies he had watched as a kid, and left. Just a spur-of-the-moment decision, as waving seemed too… casual.

  “Wanna bet if he could survive?”

  “Less than a week.”

  “Week? I bet three days at most.”

  “He gives me an odd feeling. Too calm and collected. He didn’t even ask to join us. How many times have you seen that?”

  “You mean he has secrets? Wanna chase?” This one was the giant’s voice. Zalanir could only recognize this. He maintained his pace, though Wind Rush was ready at a moment’s notice.

  “Kirilin told me earlier that this young man was indeed looking for treasures at the border. Perhaps I have been sensitive. Let Kirilin follow him for now.”

  “And I can’t even see or sense him. Glad you telepaths join us.”

  “Save it for when we get to the other side. Let’s see what secret is here.”

  Someone was following him. Sound Sense did awesome work again for picking up those conversations. But where was the tracker? He focused on every sound possible—the plop of water, the wind hissing between wall cracks on his right, even the light breathing of that group—but nothing pointed to him being followed.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  His mind traced back to the first whisper after he came here. Yeah, the tracker had been following him prior to meeting those adventurers. Probably that.

  Half an hour later, he still couldn’t locate the stalker, but he had found what he came here for. He almost missed it since a palm tree was cut in half, leaving only a chest-high pole sneaking behind one of the mounds. Also, those objects weren’t even remotely close to each other. The last mound was so fricking far away that he only noticed because he was zeroing in to this specific set of details.

  “We’re here. Now, tell me what to do.” He popped inside the lantern again to find Josef.

  To his surprise, the meahli’s soul was awake already. It was looking left and right, spitting red fireworks at the cage. He tried to connect with it, but apparently this one couldn’t speak. It reacted to his mana like a beast seeing food; it lurched toward, absorbed his mana, looked confused since there wasn’t more, and went back to play with its booming projectiles.

  “Go to the second mound and stay in contact with it for half a day.” Josef’s voice took his attention away from the meahli for now. “Then, walk in the same line toward the third mound. There, you will see four springs. Cut straight through them but don’t come closer to any. The illusory affinity is everywhere, don’t let it take you. Keep your speed steady and tap the ground twice every five minutes or when you see a meahli. Stay calm if that happens. Once you go past the four springs, there will be others who come for you. Hostile, even. Once again, stay calm, don’t harm any, and ask for the chief. I will handle the rest once you’re there.”

  “That’s uber specific.”

  “It’s our protection.” Josef sighed. “At this point, I’m sure you can already tell there are people living there. I’m one of them. We have a reason to stay hidden. The chief will tell you everything once you’re there. Better for you to hear from her.”

  “Hmm, okay. Aside from meahlis, any other dangers here that I should be aware of?”

  “No. Just them.”

  If before, he still had doubts whether this was a trap, then now that chance was closer to zero. Not only was the instruction too specific, but Josef’s steady voice with no pause in the middle of the explanation signaled this was real and trustable. If there was a twist, it would probably come at the end. No risk, no reward, though, and he was already here, so let’s just follow through.

  After seeing nothing strange with the second mound, he leaned his back against it and used this time to meditate and feed the meahli soul. This was their territory, so surely having it available would be useful. He also took out the “Affinities: The backbone of magic” book and dug into it. Better not to waste time.

  Half a day later, a pungent, dreamy smell clung to his robe. Looked like he had finally gotten the meahli’s signature. He had questioned why staying here was necessary, but only after meditation ended did his nose pick up the scent wafting from the mound behind. It leaked out in small amounts, hard to notice at first, but over time, it was enough to give him this particular smell.

  Without wasting any more time, he advanced toward the third mound in a steady pace, his ears and eyes acted as the first line of defense, scanning for meahlis before any came close.

  The ground under his feet turned softer the closer he was to the destination. The misty wind calmed him, transporting him into an open bath under a waterfall he had once visited. After cleaning himself up, he headed toward the mud bath on the right, almost tripped on the greasy surface. Gripping the oval bathtub, he squelched one foot inside, brought in the other, and then sank deep into the black substance he had once been afraid of. If he remembered correctly, he only got into a mud bath due to the provocation from his friend; otherwise he would never have set foot in this filthy, sludgy type of…

  Gurgle. Gurgle. Gur—

  Kaff! Kaff!

  Damn it. He had almost suffocated himself inside the mud. He lifted his hand, swiped away the gluey substance in his eyes, and coughed out the same gloopy filth stuck in his mouth until his throat was burning with pain.

  His mind snapped into clarity like sunlight breaking through rain clouds. What came out of his mouth wasn’t black mud. It was blood. They painted his palms, streamed along his fingers, and dotted the ground where he stood with red color.

  He lifted his face and traced the line of pink-blue light running beneath his feet to one azure spring guarded by four palm trees and dark blue shrubs. He whipped around and saw the familiar mound—

  Crap! He sprinted back. Awake. He had to stay awake. Couldn’t let illusions take over—

  He forced himself to stop after four strides, which caused him to lose his footing and fall onto his shoulder. Ignoring his clumsy fall, he fixed his eyes on a bright-red fox curling up not far from his spot. As if having another eye on its back, the fox raised its head, turned, and stared at him.

  For a moment, his mind went blank. Reflexively, he blackened his hand, ready to release the smoke field if the beast moved, but it tilted its head. No growl, no sudden lurch. The single eye on its forehead blinked. Stared. Blinked again.

  The memory of Josef’s advice came up. He tapped the ground as instructed.

  Pap. Pap.

  Those two were the clearest sounds he had ever heard. And also, the heaviest. Every fiber in his body tensed up, awaiting a response from the meahli.

  Its brushy tail rose, swayed left to right, and dropped onto the ground. Twice.

  Plap. Plap.

  Then, it dropped its head and curled into a tight red ball.

  Stabilizing his breath, he slowly got back to his feet. His mind counted exactly five minutes, and he tapped the ground again—this time using his foot.

  No motion this time. Good.

  He exhaled and started walking again.

  Tension kept on drumming— in both his head and chest—until he got to the third mound. Finally, that spring and the blurring line beneath the ground were behind.

  Close, wasn’t it?

  Then, he laughed. Suppressed, not a full one. Couldn’t risk attracting other meahlis.

  When the hell had he fallen to the illusion? He had been treading toward this place, only had a brief reminiscence to the sensation when he…

  Oh. That. That was the moment. Damn was it this subtle! And that wasn’t even from a meahli’s attack—only the sensation of this place. Probably those stupid lines beneath the ground. No wonder Shinnya had mentioned this place as the end of the adventurer’s path in this dungeon.

  He rested for a couple of minutes, gathered himself, locked the recent illusion into his head as a warning, drew a line passing through the four springs, and pressed forward.

  A meahli greeted him soon after, though once he made the two taps again, it let him pass without any interference.

  Was that… a human? Yeah. While the upper body was submerged in the spring and the lower half ravaged by holes, the leg bracers lying nearby and the one intact foot confirmed his suspicion. That person had probably been led there by illusions. He shuddered at the memory. If he had woken up a few minutes later, he would have ended up like that too. Josef had warned him to stay away from those springs, and he intended to follow it through.

  Between the third and fourth springs, a pack of ten meahlis stopped their infighting and turned toward him. His stomach knotted; his heart hammered when three of them jumped out of the spring and walked to him. His feet kept screaming at him to run, but he had somehow successfully ordered them to tap.

  And he continued the tapping pattern until he arrived at the border of the oasis once again. Different side, but seeing the fading area where the ground returned to normal dirt gave him a joy he hadn’t known he would appreciate.

  But that brief moment of happiness was instantly destroyed by incoming arrows.

  We all have 24 hours a day. Thank you for spending some of that with me!