"Duty," The Shishya muttered, the voice of the Guru resounding in her mind, seemingly stirring up something from within her. She pondered, "What is duty? Is it something imposed on me by others? Is it something I wish to do? Is it something required from me for a greater cause? Is the land depending on me to perform it? What exactly defines my duty?"

Hearing her mumbles, the Guru smiled. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed something stir up on the Shishya's back, a pale blue hue visible under the shades made by the folds in her dress. It lasted for less than a breath before disappearing.

The Guru's eyes became filled with resolve, her breathing turning rough for a moment before relaxing. She clenched her fist, gently ruffling the sand near her feet, watching some of it fall on her shoe.

'I guess it is time.' The Guru stood up, taking a couple of steps before turning around, watching that the Shishya remained unmoving, immersed in her thoughts. Followed by a smile, the Guru strode forward, beckoning for the leader stationed nearby.

The leader was stationed there to protect the duo, after all, the Divya Vaidya was of the utmost significance to their Clan or any Clan for the matter. So, protecting their safety was a must. With a leader protecting them, there wasn't any possibility of them suffering from an attack.

It was easy to sense the presence of the Divya Vaidya, something that was etched in the minds of every warrior. No Clan had any enmity towards her, instead, they were happy to curry favour with her. So, the chances of them even attacking her through a misunderstanding was nil. Therefore, the only foes the leader had to guard against were the beasts and wild animals.

Seeing the Divya Vaidya beckon for him, the leader took a flurry of steps, swiftly arriving before her, performing a mild bow, "Do you need something?"

"Can you summon your Chief? I have something important to tell him." The Guru nodded, speaking with a tone of respect.

"Of course," The leader nodded, turning around before shouting a couple of words. Immediately, a warrior setting up the tent left his position and arrived in a hurry. The leader relayed the instructions immediately as the warrior rushed into the Clan.

Ten breaths later, the Chief walked out, his face mildly surprised at the sudden call. After all, they had just conversed. So, the chances for a topic of importance to arrive in the short time frame was negligible. Suppressing his surprise and confusion, the Chief looked at the Guru, "I heard you wished to convey something important?"

"Yes, please come with me. It is something only a Chief should know." The Guru said.

"But," The leader was slightly hesitant in sending their Chief alone.

The Chief laughed in response, patting the shoulder of the leader, "It won't take long."

He then noticed the Guru looking at the pillars located a fair distance away, cueing the leader of the location he would proceed towards. The leader nodded solemnly, intending to take action should anything amiss occur.

The Guru didn't seem bothered by the delay, patiently waiting for the Chief to accompany her. "Also, please protect my Shishya and ensure he is not disturbed. He's currently in a state of enlightenment that's necessary to become my successor."

The Chief and leader were pleasantly surprised by the news, their faces brimming with joy. The Chief made eye contact with the leader who bowed in response, "I'll guard him with my life. The arrival of another Divya Vaidya is the fortune of our Crimson Desert."

The Guru and the Chief began to walk, taking a glance at the Shishya as they passed by, soon traversing towards the pillars peaking out of the sand. They were uneven, their heights varying from the height of a grown man to thrice the height of a grown man. Their width was similar to a child, a reason they hadn't been used as a fortification.

The pillars were broken when needed to be used for housing purposes in the Meka Clan. There seemed to be an inexhaustible supply as the pillars stretched across the entire horizon. Seeing her gaze, the Meka Clan Chief couldn't help but comment, "Even if we cut off a pillar, it grows back to its former height in the span of 4-5 years. It's a mystery the Meka Clan has been unable to solve."

The Guru nodded, not commenting on the matter, soon passing through the gap between two pillars. The floor was still composed of sand, the gaps between the pillars wide enough to comfortably pass through.

The Guru continued to walk, heading deeper and deeper without pause, as if she was familiar with the terrain. The wind blowing past made faint drumming noises, accompanied by the sounds of a flute as they headed deeper. It was because of the shape and arrangement of the stone pillars, affecting the flowing wind to produce sounds.

All manners of sound resounded, from the footsteps of a man to the wailing of a baby. The Chief walked right behind the Guru, his stance alert, his hands clenched, ready to retaliate at a moment's notice.

The gap between the rock pillars varied, from a wide passage to a narrow one where they had to squeeze through sideways. After squeezing through a narrow section, the Guru slowed down, taking a couple more steps before stopping.

The moment the Chief entered, he noticed the solid ground under him, covered with a thick carpet of grass, lush green. He stared in shock, "There's grass growing here?"

"This is a special place in this rock pillar domain," The Guru smiled, "This is a place only us shamans are knowledgeable of. Even among the shamans, there are at most three who know this place apart from me."

The area was an oval, with one side being the narrow entrance they had squeezed through, the other sporting a tiny brook. The walls were as high as three grown men while the brook flowed from the top, cascading over the walls before seeping into the holes at the bottom.

Lush green grass covered the ground while the walls were fully covered by moss as a result of the flowing water. The air in the area was humid, uncharacteristic of any region in the Crimson Desert. Standing before the brook, the Guru smiled, "Whatever we speak here will never escape beyond these walls. This is the best location to exchange secrets that should never be divulged."

"You have gone to such an extent, I'm curious as to what you wish to convey." The Chief said, frowning as he thought of something, "Wait, you said this place was only known to three other shamans apart from you?"

"You're right," The Guru tugged at her turban, removing it to reveal her face.

The Chief was shocked, stunned into silence, "You're not a man."

He controlled himself from expressing rage, glaring at the Guru, "Speak."

"Everything started with a Crimson Oath." The Guru sighed.

"A Crimson Oath? The first time I'm hearing of it." The Chief was confused.

"An oath is what we vow using our tattoos; breaking it would shatter our tattoos. Only leaders and Chiefs are bound by it. Normal warriors are only mentally bound by oaths because of our customs, but they don't face any actual repercussions from breaking an oath, other than facing retaliation from the Clansmen." The Guru touched the moss-covered wall, her expression solemn.

She gazed at the sky once, trailing her eyes across the flowing brook, "But, a Crimson Oath is not something we voluntarily take. It is something the Crimson Desert imposes on us."

"The Crimson Desert? Impossible? How can a piece of land talk and impose laws on us?" The Chief retorted.

"But it happened," The Guru shook her head, "We don't know the reason, but it was what guided us that day. And, it was what led to the extermination of our three Clans."

"Three Clans…" The Chief looked at the features of the Guru, recalling after a couple of seconds, "Y-You're the Namali Clan's Shaman."

A middle-aged face with deep contours, wide facial features, and earrings pierced all over her ear. Her eyes were violet, a depth of black imbued within, seemingly capable of sucking a person's consciousness should he gaze at them. The Chief was shocked, even the Meka Clan's Shaman didn't possess such a regal aura as the Guru.

The presence of a shaman directly correlated to their ability and the knowledge they possessed. In any Clan, the shamans were their treasure trove, knowledge bearers of every generation. Usually, when the Chief had a son, he would train to become the next Chief while the daughter would train to become the next shaman.

Only the shamans were knowledgeable of the method to imbue a tattoo on a warrior and turn them into a leader. If a shaman were to die without passing her knowledge to her daughter, then it would lead to an extinction of the Clan. They would have no other choice but to join the banner of another Clan.

"Yes," The Guru nodded, "Two weeks before that disaster, us three shamans heard a voice in our heads. Having interacted with tattoos all our lives, we could immediately determine that it was the presence of the very land we lived upon. The content we heard was short and cryptic."

She sighed, "We found out the others through our shared senses during the time we heard the Crimson Desert's voice. We immediately informed the Chiefs of our respective Clans and convened a meeting between the three Clans. First, only us three shamans discussed, intending to collate the information before presenting it to the Chiefs."

"It was then we found out the message," The Guru gazed at the sky with a forlorn expression, "Crimson Desert would face an unprecedented disaster in the upcoming decades. To help us tide through it, and to protect the foundation of the Crimson Desert, the presence had created three beasts: The Sword, the Shield, and the Hand."