Endless Vertex Chapter 15

A miniature sandstorm brewed, covering up footsteps that led to a teenage boy in an ecru thawb(an ankle-length garment usually with long sleeves, similar to a robe) . Scarce clouds ornamented the sky, shielding the sun from completely beating down on the sea of vast, boring sand . A camel carrying some packages wandered beside him . It licked his face, moisturizing his skin with camel saliva .

"Ew . " The teenage boy thought, puking inside his heart . Camouflaged in the desert, he laid lazily on his stomach, remaining motionless behind a dune . It was impossible to resist wiping off the slimy liquid on his face, but he told himself not to .

[It's protecting me from sunburns . ] He convinced himself . [The moisture will keep my skin in tip top condition . I read it on a science magazine . Did I?]

In reality, he just couldn't bother . He was too snug and comfortable in that position .

Painted in desert sand, the tip of a Lobaev sniper protruded from the dune, pointing towards the horizon where tiny shadows emerged .

Baggy clothings; Parade of wagons; Silly mustaches to complement their sly, greedy looks . It was certainly a group of merchants .

The tripod attached to the sniper perched on a flat, compressed area of sand . His elbows took shape of the two concave holes he dug, whereas a sand pillow cushioned his chest .

He scoped in . The merchants were doing whatever merchants do . Counting gold, counting resources or even counting the grains of sand they passed by . The wagons had fabric roofs to contain the merchandise, all except for the wooden wagon representing high social status in the heart of the parade . Heavily guarded by mercenaries in gray uniform, there was no way for anyone to sneak up close without being noticed .

Ephemeral flurries whizzed past the group of merchants, flapping the window curtain outside the wagon sporadically . A scarred face of a malnourished man appeared indistinctly by the window pane . A face of full of worry and debilitation .

Two hair colors of opposite extremes, bright-golden and ink-black, ruffled in the sandy wind as the teenage boy gently reached towards the touchscreen watch on his right wrist . Right index finger still intact with the trigger, he tapped the icon 'Mission Accomplished' .

The man in the wagon shivered . He looked out the window with his sunken eye bags . His heart was astoundingly calm .

Death called .

Within the complex structure of the Lobaev sniper, a tyrannizing . 338 Lapua Magnum bullet rested quietly on the barrel chamber, awaiting its owner's commands . The red dot on the centre of the scope aligned with the man's forehead .

He pulled the trigger .

Furnishing the four letters, a ray of sunlight sprayed onto the well-polish cartridge . Branded in bold font, "*Nova*" illuminated an eerie blaze .

Cleansing his weapon from the grains of sand, Nova packed up the external components and the rifle into a deployment case and slung it over his camel's hump .

"Beep!"

His watch sirened . Nova read the information emotionlessly .

[Next destination: Daxrim city]

[Reward: Low grade Aura stone]

[Quantity:1]

[Difficulty: Unknown]

[Target: Atlas]

Chapter end