Captured by the Desert Tyrant (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 2

-Chirp chirp

A small bird perched on young Latifa’s hand, chirping merrily. Above the bird’s head floated a tiny silver spirit visible only to Latifa.

[It’s snowy and cold up north. The whole lake froze, so I came down here!]

When the little spirit spoke to her, Latifa beamed with excitement and turned to her mother beside her with a wide smile.

“Mom, this one came from the north! It says it’s so cold there that a huge lake has completely frozen over.”

Her mother, who had been gazing fondly at Latifa, instantly hardened her expression, gripping her young daughter’s shoulders tightly. She glanced warily around, as if afraid someone might overhear.

“Hush! I told you not to say things like that, Latifa!”

“Hmmph…”

The bird flew away at her mother’s sharp scolding, and little Latifa puffed out her cheeks, glaring at her with discontented eyes. She had just been enjoying a fun story from a rare bird that had flown over the wall—now being scolded made her feel awful.

“Talking to animals is something only witches do.”

“But I’m not a witch…”

Latifa grumbled, and her mother quickly soothed her gently.

“Of course you’re not a witch—you’re my sweet daughter. But others might see you as a witch, so you must never speak of such things carelessly.”

“But…”

“Latifa, my dear. I don’t want to lose you. You don’t want people calling you a witch, do you?”

“…”

“Promise me once more: never show or speak of your ability to anyone else, ever?”

“Okay… I understand…”

Seeing Latifa pout, her mother softly brushed her silvery hair back and gave a gentle smile.

“And maybe you’re still young enough to imagine animals are talking to you. My sweet Latifa, I just want you to live an ordinary, happy life like everyone else.”

Soothed by her mother’s soft voice and comforting scent, Latifa brightened and hugged her tightly.

“I only need you, Mom!”

Until her death from illness, Latifa’s mother would murmur like a prayer to her young daughter:

“Latifa, you must live a long, happy life, alright? Just like everyone else—ordinary. Dance a waltz with a kind man you like. Eat lots of delicious food. Stay healthy and live long—live for both of us.”

Latifa would later recall that her mother, though kind-hearted, was not a clever woman.

After all, she never foresaw the fall of the Tania Empire—or that Latifa would become a fugitive, wandering the empire like a beggar.

**

Above the dog’s head, a faint silver spirit shimmered gently, swaying as if greeting Latifa. A small joy bloomed in Latifa’s chest as she watched it.

‘A spirit appeared!’

“Latifa, step back! Brenda’s right—that’s just a beast. It can’t possibly understand human speech!”

Another woman in the group whispered desperately, trying to pull her backward.

“Hush!”

Latifa raised a hand to stop her. Her moment of joy was brief—now that the spirit had appeared, there was no time to waste. She quickly spoke to it before the silver mist vanished.

“I won’t hurt you at all. I’ll give you this bread—can you pretend you didn’t find us?”

“…Huh?”

The hunting dog tilted its head as if it understood her words. At the same moment, the dog’s voice—audible only to Latifa—began to reach her through the silver spirit.

[If I don’t tell my masters, I’ll get in trouble.]

The hound groaned, conflicted, glancing briefly toward the bandits, then back at them.

The people crouched behind Latifa held their breaths, terrified the dog might bark loudly at any second.

“If you quietly pretend you saw nothing, no one will scold you. Here, eat this.”

Latifa gently coaxed again and tossed the bread to the ground. The hound let out another soft whimper and slowly approached her.

Then, with a flop, it rolled onto its back and panted right in front of her.

“…Good heavens!”

Everyone gasped in shock at the hound’s sudden friendliness, and Latifa finally let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Phew…”

[Then I won’t tell—give me all that bread!]

“Alright. Eat it all. And I’m sorry for interrupting your work.”

She smiled faintly and gently stroked the hound’s belly and head as it eagerly wagged its tail and pressed into her lap. This time, she spoke to the dog in her mind.

‘Can you go the other way and draw their attention?’

[That’s super easy.]

-Yap.

The now-gentle hound gave a short bark—as if saying, “Leave it to me!”—grabbed the bread, and dashed straight out of the building. Thanks to the dog’s quiet departure, the hidden group let out a collective sigh of relief.

“We thought we’d be caught for sure! Latifa, you’re great with dogs. You saved us!”

Latifa wiped away her cold sweat, quietly smiled at the visibly relieved faces, and replied softly.

“I’m just glad we got through safely. We were lucky.”

Despite their sincere gratitude, she remained humble, bowing her head slightly before curling up against the wall. She wondered—if her true identity were revealed, would they still offer her such heartfelt thanks?

But Latifa quickly shook her head, dismissing the pointless thought. Her identity would never be revealed now.

‘Everyone who knew me is probably dead in the imperial palace…’

She leaned blankly against the wall and closed her eyes, hoping the faint shouts beyond it meant the bandits were retreating.

Her true name was Latifa Glacia Tania—the seventeenth imperial princess and daughter of the powerless emperor whose reign had led to the empire’s downfall.

**

A man cloaked head to toe in black robes sat atop a majestic black horse, its mane neatly combed, gazing from afar at the chaotic scene swirling with dust.

“How dare they commit unauthorized thievery in my presence? What shame for the desert folk.”

Among the desert tribes scattered across the harsh sands, cooperation was their virtue, their law, and their means of survival.

Yet theft? That shattered trust among desert people—and worse, undermined the market order of the Grand Bazaar where the Sultan resided.

To Hades Caleb, a general who never shied from harsh measures for the sake of order and control, this was utterly unforgivable. In the desert—where fickle sandstorms and unexpected dangers lurked—disorder was tantamount to death.

“This disgrace must be repaid with death.”

As Hades estimated the bandits’ numbers from the rising dust cloud, his eyes caught a hunting dog behaving oddly.

“Hmm?”

-Yap!

While most hounds chased people through the ruined residential area in chaos, this one dog stood alone, darting restlessly about.

There was no obvious hiding place for people, nor prey or birds—so why was the hound lingering there? Curious, he quietly urged his horse toward it.

“A thief’s duty is to steal, and a hound’s duty is to hunt.”

Dismounting at the strange sight, he whistled to the dog and slightly lowered his hood.

Jet-black hair spilled out, revealing beneath it attractive, sun-kissed skin.

Under thick, masculine black eyebrows gleamed sharp, obsidian eyes scanning the surroundings, above a straight, handsome nose and lips curved in a charming smirk.

“Well now. You’re acting up even though there’s nothing here.”

“Keeeng…!”

The hound, which had been darting about, instinctively sensed threat from the sudden appearance of this unfamiliar man. It tucked its tail between its legs and lowered its head.

After glancing quickly around and confirming nothing was there, he patted the frightened hound’s head.

‘A hound from the Shell region in southern desert—renowned for keen sight and scent, never losing prey once spotted…’

“Are you perhaps a rare, foolish one?”

In that instant, the man’s nostrils twitched slightly.

Bending down to sniff near the hound’s neck, Hades murmured quietly at the faint, unfamiliar scent.

“Jasmine… Tch. And of the worst quality, too. If this were sold as merchandise in the Grand Bazaar, three generations would be cursed.”

Though the jasmine scent—faint amid dog odor and earth—was crude enough to furrow his brow, Hades found himself oddly alert to it.

Not only was the lone hound suspicious, but jasmine was a fragrance typically used by desert women—and for it to drift from near the imperial capital’s border was even more unusual.

‘Not a scent bandits would carry… There must be kidnapped desert women among them.’

Since bandits often abducted innocents to serve as laborers, Hades sighed softly and stroked the hound’s neck.

“Retreat quickly—before you’re caught by that mad dog!”

At the distant sound of the bandits’ voices, Hades—who had been gently petting the dog—curled his lips into a cold smile.

“Now I must see the faces of your dishonorable masters. After all, exterminating bandits is my true calling.”

**

Hoofbeats echoed through the ruined suburban neighborhood as two squads of desert warriors—dark-skinned and disciplined—marched in formation.

But the eerie silence of the ruins, thick with the stench of blood and quiet enough to hear ants crawling, suggested everything had already been settled.

“Flame among flames, Lord Ignite.”

A young captain dismounted nervously.

He knelt before the black-haired man—Hades Caleb—who sat alone atop the rubble of a broken fountain with arrogant poise, offering a respectful bow.

Before him stood a large scimitar plunged into the ground, and several hounds—recently orphaned—sniffed curiously at the fresh blood dripping from the blade.

Undoubtedly, these belonged to the bandits who had caused trouble nearby.

“I didn’t wish to trouble you, weary from conquering the empire, so I handled these petty thieves myself…”

Hearing the soldiers swallow hard, the man slowly rose, using the embedded blade for support.

“Yet you’re far too late to assemble. Has discipline slackened now that you’ve won the war?”

“We apologize for the delay, General Hades!”

The soldiers knelt in perfect unison, bowing their heads to Hades. But the man didn’t even acknowledge them.

He had more important matters than reprimanding tardy subordinates.

He kicked aside the gathered hounds, drew his blade, and briskly wiped the still-wet bloodstains onto his black robe.

“There seem to be captured desert folk nearby. I’ll scout quickly—gather their loot in the meantime.”

Desert people lived by an unspoken rule: help one another. Moreover, turning a blind eye when he knew the truth simply wasn’t in his nature.

From his robe pocket, he pulled out a white linen cloth used for staunching blood, waved it over the dirt to erase his scent, then called out.

“You—come here. Yes, you’re the one.”

He beckoned the hound that had acted strangely earlier, rubbed the linen along its neck to transfer the faint jasmine scent, then tossed it to the other dogs.

Sniffing the cloth, the hounds immediately bolted off in pursuit. Hades swung his leg over his black steed and ordered his men.

“Stay alert—the bandits’ remnants may return. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Yes, General Hades!”

The soldiers, who had braced themselves for punishment from the infamous “Mad Dog” General Hades, bowed gratefully, secretly relieved they’d escaped unscathed.

**

The distant shouts of desert warriors and the howls of beasts had long since fallen silent. The women among the refugee group cautiously relaxed their stiff limbs and peeked outside.

Most of the men had been conscripted long ago due to endless civil wars and conflicts, so the refugees now consisted mostly of women, children, and the elderly.

And thieves and slavers swarmed everywhere, eager to capture them.

“It’s quiet now. Do you think they’ve all left?”

“Um… There might still be bandits nearby. We should probably wait until nightfall.”

Latifa answered timidly to a woman’s question.

Something felt off about venturing out now. Though it was eerily silent, there was no fading sound of hoofbeats—too unsettling to believe the bandits had truly withdrawn.

“Don’t be foolish. We don’t have time to linger here.”

“But it’s still dangerous…!”

“Latifa, it’ll be dark soon, and we haven’t even gathered firewood. I don’t know what noble life you led before, but stop acting like a spoiled child!”

Brenda shouted at Latifa as if she’d completely forgotten the help Latifa had just given her.

“If you don’t like what I say, go ahead and leave right now—survive on your own!”

“Ah, no… I just…”

Latifa, overwhelmed by Brenda’s forceful presence, trailed off without reply. Even as an imperial princess, she’d never properly voiced her own opinion—what could she possibly do now?

‘Right… Even if I step forward, there’s nothing I can do…’

She’d never once felt useful in her life. Clinging for years to the hollow title of “Seventeenth Imperial Princess,” her self-loathing and sense of inadequacy had long since ceased to feel new.

‘I’ll go gather some dry twigs at least.’

Just as she moved to help, a sharp pain shot through her ankle again.

“Ugh! My ankle hurts so much…”

Her ankle was visibly swollen and unnaturally red. Knowing Brenda would surely scold her again for being useless and injured, she quickly lowered her skirt to hide it from view.

‘If I become any more useless here, Brenda might really abandon me.’

Just then, hoofbeats began to sound from somewhere.

-Clop, clop.

At the sound of hooves striking stone and hounds barking behind the wall, everyone startled and huddled tightly into a corner once more.

“Don’t stand there like an idiot—move!”

“Aah!”

Sensing someone approaching, Brenda shoved Latifa hard and quickly squeezed into the crowd.

As Latifa scrambled to rise from her fall, the wall behind her collapsed with a thunderous crash.

“Kgh!”

Cold wind howled through the broken wall, accompanied by the barking of hounds.

‘This is truly the end now.’

She swallowed hard as footsteps crunched closer over the rubble of the fallen stone wall. The sound drew nearer—then stopped abruptly right before her.

Face to face with the shadow of death, she clamped both hands over her mouth, trembling violently with eyes squeezed shut.

Then—tap.

“…!”

Startled by the gentle hand brushing her bangs, she jerked her head up in surprise.