《Veils From Autumn》
The Sand Veil Sea
An aftermath had happen from what I was told. A sector of the Southern Grassland begins to unfold. My travel route to the desert beds are desolated. The fair sea of sands puke upon and my clothes and skin; the ever sea stretched for miles blown by the soft whimsical winds straightly from the Northern Grassland pinched between the two great lands. Tunes aloft with the sharf of air above the beds it laid seamlessly. Particles of glass shimmered and are detected in the materials and its viable frequency. It flew away by the breath of the sky, engulfed in a horizon of mists and low grade clumps of clouds that gives the great beast of the sand a fit, blowing the nostrils before confusion set, changing the hidden glass into liquid vapors of an unknown chemical process.
The sand whale was beneath me. It burrow its way to hide from the hot day. Goodness, it really does made no sense to the other world¡¯s logic. I searched for what I can find to rest with but with no avail other than scrap of discarded shells; and parts of great woods receiving from what it look liked a shipwreck of some stored goods, scattered and covered many grounds till a cluster of a ship¡¯s hood. Oh, in the land of the sand bandits and sand pirates seemly is reasonable to expect. The cautious state boils in.
¡°Um . . . Excuse I mister. Mister, mister traveler. Over hear I say.¡± a rugged voice of prince charming demanded, sounding like an Asian British man with an accent. I was alone. I must be dreaming of this nonsense. Surely am me, fully aware and overcome with exhaustion and started to hear spouting of some sort.
¡°Mister traveler, you¡¯re directly looking at me.¡± said the voice once more. There was no one in sight. My hallucination was piling up the toll. And for once, I might have believe in the fantasy paranormal that it was an actual live ghost. But it did not excuse my dumbfound countenance to be met with a block of wood resembling a pillow. Clonk! Judgment administer right after turning away from it. I realize it was no human. It was not a beast that resides in the desert. Not even an elvfyn in distress.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
¡°Oh you oxymoron!¡± It corrected me and gave me not a laugh. A personified, short-end festival boat talking to yours truly in this mess. I must be going nutty from this anomaly. It was hard for me to express from the high strangeness after taking a block to the noggin.
¡°Good. Now that you realize that I exist. Will you please help me out good sir? I am stuck about a month¡¯s worth of rations.¡± We converse for the moments. So I asked after our introduction how it was stuck in the first place giving it more than a nudge. Knowing it has some form of intelligence and too, being a magical boat itself, why not just magically lift itself. No pleasant memories was brought up other than a scorching anger ready to devour my half-cooked bacon of its predicament.
¡°That FEEBLE hand, BAKA John Titor! I¡¯m going to kick him when he ever return back to me for help. How dare he let me to rot for eternity and excuse himself of high standards of living. I will shave his prized hair with his own katana, argghh!¡±
What a genius. But the boat has no arms and legs to do what it claimed. Out pop the magical boat¡¯s head and along the sweaty rain condensed in tight spaces. A wallet fling out showing me of some interest that I would go and pick it up, curious of the claim this angry object bashing on about non-stop after its freedom.
There was a driver¡¯s license from the United States of America intact that I took a look seeing the name, Precious Bunny Chastity Caddel. It was diffidently an isekai boy, a young man¡¯s picture with a stripper¡¯s name to boot. A legal name that may have been too embarrassed to be used even for the public eyes. I am quite sure it is him. John Titor must be his psuedo name. But to be sure, I show the picture of the boy to the dragon boat that it appears to be.
¡°That¡¯s him alright. The stupid samurai. You know himmmm?¡± the dragon boat questioned me. It slid on the sand and closed our distant. I was not an alibi for the boy though it seems the boat wanted an excuse to vent off.
Lords of The Waste
An unbound family portrait slip out from the wallet when we collided.
Surprisingly, John Titor, who is probably is not in self-content, as I should call him by the nickname to avoid his dying pain ministered by awful and dreaded parent, was the only sibling to be wearing stylish ronin-like clothing. A handmade rain cover in the arm while posing.
Natural clothing colors of purple, black, white, gray, and green. His dress is consist of a belt-like sash, a custom outer kimono cape with plenty of room under the arm pit to arms length with detailed circle patterns throughout; and a loose pant known as a tattsuke-bakama but non-traditional, that cuffed right below the knee garnished with pill pattern design allocated in the center to resemble old traditional coins. Very light leg guards and covering of the foot and calves. Shoes are made of straws or mayhaps weaved from sturdy plants and cultured tree barks, finished with many straps between the toes and up above the ankles.
¡°Now, this is an isekai man. The description I gave thee, will it not satisfy your anger?¡± I beseech. Being summoned by an elvfyn girl would not help either way.
John Titor is a fictitious code to be chosen that did me no justice to prove my innocent from the dragon¡¯s yapping. The dragon boat was sure we both were in cahoot because our names were very different from the realm accusing us as aliens of one kind. The knowledge it professed told I that the boat is well learned of isekai men and of things I heard not about. It baffles me of what is really going on in the fantasy world.
¡°Enough of him!¡± the magic boat telling me to end the charade. Deep thinking tends to drive people nuts. I didn¡¯t start the fire but soon there will be a storm to quench.
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Far from the distant, a rain storm was in session along a certain horizon heading into some greenery. At least that is what we expect it to be, hoping it wasn¡¯t some form of illusion, looking from the pinnacle top of the highest hill of sand in our proximity, til the curious sand whale pop out partially nearby gushing out steam and it rescind, creating low cooling clouds gliding in the direction of the whimsical winds. It would be problematic crossing the wet sand though a bit of fair rain is wanted.
¡°I¡¯ll be leaving. Hope you do well in your travels.¡± The boat left me not doubting that I¡¯m guilty from our earlier conversation. It shook gradually of itself to start off descending from the one-edge hill. I watch the boat and when the land was even within the valley of sands, it was stuck doing its best to move squinting the eyes and tightening the wooden muscles to the point it is playing charade in the bathroom. The boat is having trouble releasing a large dried piece stuck between the two muscular sphincter complexes indeed. It¡¯s face had sour. A moment of quietness registered before turning around to ask me for a favor the third time.
It didn¡¯t took long for the magic boat to realize it¡¯s sail is lost. A symbiotic deal is made within the barren valley that I would find/make a sail in return for the greatest service to mankind. The sail is the key component to magically swim the no man¡¯s land. The boat insisted. I have no choice but to heed to the instruction of an animated object. Two feet will only carry so far.
I made a sail out of a make-shift pole grafted with scraps and dirty yet durable linens, inserted the creation onto the dragon¡¯s back. The linen arisen in majesty and sweat sparkles in contact. We took off into no men¡¯s playground, swimming pass the sand manatees and the killer seaweeds, made troubles with the overpowered alien parasite princess Chagas within her territory, and more within the uncharted sand sea randomly locating a settlement sojourned in the middle of the desert basin. And when the both of us thought all is good from the ¡°abusement,¡± the settlement reveals to be a hideout of goblin biker bandits.
¡°These goblins are cannibals.¡± said the dragon boat.
The boat surely implies some are vegetarian. Our mischievous arrival alerted the pack instantaneously. The goblins brandish their spoiled weapons of war stolen from adventurers and rouge army platoons. We are in hot troubles surviving the onslaught of bombardments and physical killer instinct showdown. Some of the monsters were oversize and there is nothing I could do about it if the monsters plow the dragon boat. The only weapon to match the bandits was a cannon the dragon boat had set. With less than three ammunition conserved since the battle with the parasite princess Chagas¡¯ sandpool fortress. The decision was made to finish all the rounds. I have to rely on the sprites for help.
Ultimate Spirit Pig Cannon!!!
The battle have intensify after three miles. Gliding and skiing above the desert sea heading for the fifth mile with uncertainty. The escape from the clutches of the desert goblins was nothing short of a chaotic color squad. My enchanted vessel and I battled fiercely against the relentless onslaught of road warriors. The ground trembling beneath us as the sand boiled and churned. I was burn. A slight damage to my right calf.
An awaken growl-like pulsate from the desert sea. A previous encounter with the elusive sand manatees, in which I may had believe it to be since their appearance was revealed in an early battle with Chagas; now overshadowed by the emergence of a monstrous sand shark and its profound infrasound. A grotesque zombie spawn with a spine twisted like a gnarled tree, no frontal dorsal fin, oozing a vile green-black mucus from its half-eaten nostril of this harlequin, all while it hunted the goblins with a ravenous hunger with a gaping crocodile mouth. The distraction was not enough for an escape.
A hulking hobgoblin sprint quite speedily regardless of its build with its bare foot in the desert sea. The colossal surprises the dragon boat more than I who was aware of the troublesome wall closing distant. A cross-eye tank with rocket propellant in retrospect. It swing its massive hand with a ferocity that belied its size into the depth of the boiling sand in the attempt to capsize us merry wanderers. I look in shock over its massive size from below in a quick attempt to do something but am annoy with the smaller troops, kicking them sand monkeys out of the boat.
The average goblins in a desperate bid to topple our vessel, rammed us from the side, sending us careening beneath the hulking hob''s armpit missing our devastating destruction the second time, as sand exploded with the intense hook blow raising higher than all the creatures. I have almost lost control in manually steering the boat. The wooden rudder was cracking.
I have to change my strategy. The dragon boat insisted me to yank his neck to mitigate the collision til we hit another pack of beasts from the left destroying the wooden rudder. Amid the chaos, I regain control and fire the last ammunition have aboard. The shot tearing through the goblins'' makeshift contraption, creating a searing hole that sent splinters of metal and wood flying into the air like confetti at a grim celebration from the back end. The force of the cannon spin us out of harm hitting gradually with other biker bandits.
The dragon and I skid along the sand and lost the function to magically glide proficiently but created a good gap between the carnivores. The sail was damage from the entanglement and holes from previous engagement. My focus quickly shifted as I realized the absurdity of another creature so rotund sprinting across the desert with great horns, closed the distance to the dragon boat with alarming speed facing in the direction of the coming hunters.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
The sight of the zombie shark was more distracting than the swarm of mini goblins. With no choice but to adapt, I got out of the vessel, aimed for the neck of the boat, yanking the helm with all my might to steer us closer in the direction of safety before heading back on. Just then, a tremendous impact shook the sands, sending shock waves rippling through the ground by the shark picking a few goblins at a time, and I braced myself as the desert erupted in chaos around.
¡°We are out of weapons. Got any secrets?¡± said me. The wind is in action and muffled some fighter goblins footsteps where I do what I do best to kick them under the chin with the sprites help running from behind me. It was close combat for the seconds. The clouds are in hurry and did it not stop me from thinking how we would get out of the foreboding situation.
Our ammunition had run dry, and the relentless wave of goblin vanguards surged. Their shrill war cries echoing across the sandy field thickens the atmosphere with tension, and the ground trembled beneath the weight of their advance. Just when despair threatened to take hold, a glimmer of hope emerged from an unexpected source: the dragon boat, a vessel that had seemed merely a means of transport, now revealed its hidden surprise¡ªa secret weapon that seemed too grand to be true. Being in an anime, I was not much astonish and let the boat consumed his ego.
With a knowing grin, the dragon boat beckoned, urging me to locate a mechanism nestled behind its intricately carved head. My fingers fumbled over the ornate designs, tracing the contours of ancient wooden calligraphy until I found the hidden puzzle. With a firm press, I unlocked a puzzling gimmick that had lain dormant. Suddenly, the dragon boat''s mouth gaped wide, revealing a cavernous interior that seemed to pulse with energy. From its depths emerged a cannon, growing larger and more magnificent as it unfurled. Its metallic surface glinting in the sunlight. Simple in design but strangely fantasy.
"Behold my spirit pig cannon." it declared with pride, its voice resonating with a deep, rumbling timbre that sent shivers to any adversary. The very air around us crackled with anticipation as the cannon took form. Its barrel stretching forth to unleash its fury. As we steadied ourselves against the shifting sands back again against the coming wave. I felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. This was our moment. With a deep quick breath, I activated the trigger in response to a deadly strike three feet from us, and the world around us seemed to stop.
A dazzling beam erupted from the cannon, a brilliant cascade of light that shattered the oppressive gloom of our dire situation. The beam split into a flurry of shots, each one bursting forth like a star igniting in the night sky, blanketing the battlefield in a spectacular display of color and power. The outer layer recoil against the inner construct. The goblins, caught in the onslaught, were thrown into disarray, their ranks breaking apart as they were engulfed by the radiant pig energy.
The power was indeed prolific in eating the soul. With every blast, the spirit is drain of its existence. One grand shot was all we needed to send them packing and so did the vessel and I went flying, gliding, skiing backward by the recoiled force. And was insisted by the dragon boat himself for us to travel a few miles away from the carnage by the ultimate display. I could hardly believe my eyes as the goblin vanguards were scattered like leaves in a storm, their advance halted by the sheer brilliance of our newfound weapon.