Building An Empire Starting From The Labor Camp In Exile-Chapter 293: The bird

A bird with a dirt-brown color flew in the sky. Its wings were long, and the tips ended in sharp silver blades made of bones. Sharp yellow eyes turned down to survey the sands that spread below it like the sea, shifting gently with the hot wind.

The bird was searching for prey in the desert. It flew higher, as there was no prey in its immediate area. It passed miles and miles of nothing but sands. It let out a cry that was both shrill and piercing.

Then suddenly the ground was broken by rocky stones before mountains suddenly jutted out of the ground. The bird flapped its wings in excitement and anticipation.

As it circled the different mountain, the desert bird had lived long enough and had been exposed to essence and monster’s meat that it had gained some kind of intelligence.

With that, it had caught its fair share of human children in its talons in this harsh desert.

Sometimes the humans themselves threw the children out for the animals and monsters of the desert. But right then, there wasn’t any child it could catch in its talons.

The bird flew over all the mountains and even dared to fly low to stare at the hollow door set into the mountains. Sometimes children crawled out of such holes themselves.

But one thing the bird dared not do was to let out its own cry. The children might be powerless, but the adults were brutal and would not let any part of the bird be wasted. Even the blood would be drunk.

It ruffled its feathers and flew away over more waves and dunes of sands. The bird passed more of that kind of village, where there was enough stable ground to build something.

And then it reached a place that always puzzled it. It was a larger gathering of humans. The ground here was actually good enough to plant on, and the proud bird even considered flying down to pluck one of the fruits, but it saw the shield that flickered above.

With more feathers ruffling, the bird continued to fly. More cities, more towns.

But then suddenly, the smell of blood drew its attention, and the bird whirled midair, joining hundreds of its fellows of different kinds to follow where the taint of blood was coming from.

Right there, a city that was not much bigger than a village was getting butchered. Those that were doing the butchering were concealed in a storm of sand and dust. The only thing that flashed was magic.

And the flag, a city burning with black fire.

Once the bird saw that flag, it turned so suddenly it collided with its fellow, but it didn’t mind the snapping jaws as it got away from that flag.

What that flag represented in the desert, even animals that had gained a little intelligence knew. It was destruction. Total destruction.

The bird continued to fly, even over bigger cities and villages made only temporarily as people moved from one place to the other.

Suddenly, after a long flight, the bird saw a small mountain and decided to take a break. It began to descend, but then it stiffened and turned right back, flapping its wings wildly in desperation to get away, dignity lost.

What it felt was so much that it decided right there and then to go to sleep hungry. The desert is just that dangerous.

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The mountain was a single one that jutted out of the desert like a finger. Atop it sat a man in a tattered cloak and hair that was as dirty as the sands.

Coiled around him was a monster that looked like an oversized lizard, but this one had wings and its mouth was filled with fangs. The monster rumbled as it watched the bird fly away.

The man laughed. "You know you can just go and catch it instead of waiting for the bird to come to you. You are too lazy to be the mount of a Clan leader like myself!"

The drake rumbled in protest, and the man laughed again. His face was dry, but his eyes were twinkling black. "Come on, you lizard. You might just starve to death if you continue like this."

Suddenly, the tray that was in front of him let out a ding sound, and the man focused. The tray was made of some brown stone, and it was filled with sands.

As the man focused, the sands arranged into words as if an invisible stick was writing it.

"Clan leader Eirikr Akatsuki. We have destroyed the village. All resources have been secured. We will return to the capital unless there are any commands?"

Eirikr frowned. "Good. Give the resources to the Elders. They know what to do with it. There won’t be any... wait... bring part of the flesh you have there. My mount will eat."

The drake rumbled, and Eirikr laughed.

"That is all. You can return to the Capital after."

The sands arranged themselves again. "As you wish, my Lord!"

In the desert, nothing goes to waste. Even the dead are cut up and dried, their bodies used in feeding their animals or used as traps for hunting.

Some even ground up their dead into powder to make soups. All of that just to survive for the next day.

Eirikr raised his hand and rubbed the head of his drake. "This is not the way to live, but it’s the only way we know. But I am Akatsuki, and I must do what I must."

Suddenly, the tray sounded again, and Eirikr looked down, his expression immediately turning flat. "What is it?"

"My Lord. Young Master Svenjar has challenged the Clan leader of the Soryu to a challenge to be carried out tomorrow. They are making a spectacle out of it."

Eirikr snorted. "Svenjar is not dead yet? Seems the Soryu have indeed grown weak, but this is even far weaker than I expected. I see.

"Do you think my son will win?"

"I cannot say, my Lord. Atrox Soryu did not look special or unique. Even his aura is not impressive. But he must have some tricks up for him to accept the challenge."

Eirikr nodded deeply. "Just make sure Svenjar dies, and it should be the Soryu that did it. Dismissed!"

Long after the message faded away, Eirikr was still staring into space. He shook his head sadly. "A shame. For the Soryu Clan to fall this low. Time to start planning how to take the Ito Clan."