note sorry guys due to my mistake in arranging the pre upload channel this chapter was not uploaded Kael spent another few minutes examining the footprints beneath the Broken Spine before deciding there was nothing useful left to discover.
The trail ended at solid stone.
The strange pale material matched something he had previously encountered, and the dead city contained several inscriptions he couldn’t read.
He could spend hours staring at all three facts without gaining anything new, or he could continue toward Veyrun and eventually find someone capable of translating the stone tablet.
Kael chose the second option.
His occupied position beneath the mountain picked up the tablet and disappeared.
Rhea noticed immediately.
“You’re done?” “For now.” She looked genuinely surprised.
“You’re actually leaving it?” “We’re going to Veyrun.” “I know, but I thought you’d spend another three days staring at walls.” “Why?” “Because they’re mysterious walls.” Kael looked at her as though that explained nothing.
Rhea smiled slightly.
“Never mind.” The caravan continued through the Broken Spine along the route Kael had created.
By now, Darren had stopped looking at the mountains and started looking at the road.
That was becoming a problem.
Not for Kael.
For Darren’s sanity.
The merchant had spent most of his adult life moving goods between cities.
He understood transportation costs better than most people understood their own households.
Every additional day on the road meant food for workers, feed for animals, guard wages, damaged wheels, monster risk, spoiled goods, and countless smaller expenses.
Kael had just removed roughly three days from the journey.
Because he didn’t want to walk around a mountain range.
Darren rode beside him.
“Do you understand what you’ve done?” “Made a road.” “You shortened one of the regional trade routes by several days.” “Yes.” “That could save merchants thousands every journey.” “Good.” “Entire merchant houses will want to use this.” “They can.” Darren stared at him.
Kael continued walking.
“I made it because the other road was long.” “I KNOW.” Several nearby guards looked over.
Darren took a breath.
There was another problem.
“The route needs a name.” “Why?” “So people know which route we’re talking about.” “Road.” Darren closed his eyes.
“There are thousands of roads.” Kael considered that.
“Straight Road.” Rhea immediately turned.
“Absolutely not.” Kael looked at her.
“Why?” “Because that’s a terrible name.” “It’s straight.” “That’s not how naming works.” Bram, walking nearby, joined the conversation.
“Kael’s Passage.” Mira shook her head.
“Broken Spine Cut.” Toren barely looked over.
“Northern Spine Route.” “That’s actually reasonable,” Darren said.
Kael disagreed.
“Straight Road is better.” Rhea pointed at him.
“You’re only saying that because it’s yours.” “No.
It’s straight.” Unfortunately, the argument spread.
Within half an hour, guards, drivers, merchants, and workers had begun suggesting names.
“The Unmeasured Path!” “Mountain-Eater Road!” “Kael’s Shortcut!” Someone near the rear shouted, “Kael’s Folly!” Rhea immediately raised her hand.
“That one.” Kael shrugged.
Darren looked horrified.
“We are not submitting Kael’s Folly to the Merchant Association.” “Why not?” Rhea asked.
“Because I would like them to take my report seriously.” Kael wasn’t listening anymore.
He looked toward Rhea.
“Wagon twelve.” Her expression changed instantly.
“Behind us, right line.
Grain.” “Driver?” “Belan.
Grey coat.
Limp in his left leg.” “Guards?” “One beside the wagon, another approximately thirty paces behind.” Kael nodded.
“Good.” Rhea froze.
Bram’s head snapped toward her.
Then he raised both arms.
“SHE GOT GOOD AGAIN!” Several caravan workers laughed.
Rhea’s face reddened.
“I hate all of you.” Kael looked confused.
“Why?” “You started this.” “I asked about a wagon.” “Exactly.” The road eventually emerged from the roughest section of the Broken Spine.
Late in the afternoon, smoke appeared ahead.
Mira scouted first and returned with news of a settlement.
Stonebell Village wasn’t large.
Perhaps a few hundred people lived among sturdy stone houses built near the base of the surrounding ridges.
Small fields occupied every patch of usable soil, while goats and other hardy livestock grazed along the slopes.
The village was isolated.
Very isolated.
Which explained why everyone stopped working when twenty merchant wagons appeared from a direction where no merchant wagons were supposed to exist.
An elderly man approached.
“Where did you people come from?” “Greyhaven,” Darren replied.
The elder stared at him.
“No, you didn’t.” Darren pointed backward.
“Yes, we did.” “There isn’t a road through there.” “There is now.” The elder looked behind Darren.
Then at the wagons.
Then toward the mountains again.
“How?” Everyone looked at Kael.
Kael looked behind himself.
Rhea whispered, “They’re looking at you.” “I know.” Darren explained.
The elder’s expression moved through disbelief, confusion, and finally something Kael hadn’t expected.
Gratitude.
Stonebell had existed close to the Broken Spine for generations, but the established merchant route passed far south.
Traders rarely bothered making the additional journey toward the village.
A direct route changed that.
Medicine could arrive more frequently.
Farmers could sell goods farther away.
Tools would become cheaper.
Young villagers could travel without spending days reaching the main road.
The elder grasped Kael’s hand.
“Thank you.” Kael looked down at their hands.
“I didn’t do it for you.” The elder laughed.
“Does that make the road disappear?” “No.” “Then we’re grateful anyway.” Kael couldn’t find a useful response to that.
The villagers insisted the caravan remain overnight.
Darren accepted.
The horses needed rest, and nobody objected to sleeping somewhere with actual roofs nearby.
Then Kael smelled dinner.
That settled the matter permanently.
Large cuts of mountain-beast ribs had been roasted over open fires and glazed with wild honey mixed with herbs.
Thick stone-baked bread accompanied them.
Kael took one bite.
Rhea watched his face.
“Master?” Kael took another.
“We’re staying.” Rhea stared at him.
“You decided that very quickly.” “Food’s good.” She laughed.
Later, the villagers asked the question nobody in the caravan had thought to ask.
“What did you eat in the Hollow Depth?” Kael answered simply.
“Meat.” “What kind?” “Whatever attacked me.” The table became quieter.
Rhea leaned forward.
“How did you cook it?” “Fire.” “Yes, Master.
I understand the concept of fire.
What did you put on it?” Kael frowned.
“Fire.” Rhea stared at him.
“Seasoning.” “What?” The entire table went silent.
Rhea’s expression slowly transformed into horror.
“You don’t know what seasoning is?” “I know now.” “You spent a hundred years eating unseasoned monster meat?” “Mostly.” Bram looked genuinely disturbed.
Kael continued eating the honey-glazed ribs.
“Some tasted fine.” “Such as?” Mira asked.
Kael thought.
“There was one with poisonous blood.” Bram stopped chewing.
“Poisonous?” “Only before cooking.” Rhea covered her face.
Kael continued.
“Another regenerated while roasting.” Toren actually looked interested.
“How did you cook it?” “Kept cutting pieces off.” Mira slowly lowered her food.
“And the strangest?” “One exploded when heated.” Silence.
Bram carefully placed his rib onto his plate.
“You ate something that exploded?” “Only once.” Rhea looked hopeful.
“Because you learned not to?” “No.
There weren’t many.” Bram pushed his plate slightly away.
Rhea stared at Kael.
There were apparently some forms of damage even one hundred years of overwhelming power couldn’t repair.
The evening became considerably livelier afterward.
Someone brought out instruments.
Children ran between the caravan wagons while villagers traded small goods with the merchants.
Bram somehow entered a drinking contest within twenty minutes.
Toren helped a farmer repair a damaged metal tool, and Mira disappeared into a group discussing hunting trails.
Kael remained near the fire.
Eating.
Rhea sat nearby.
For someone who claimed to have spent a century mostly alone, Kael didn’t seem uncomfortable among the noise.
He simply watched.
Listened.
Occasionally answered someone.
And kept eating.
Rhea noticed he could easily have wandered somewhere quiet.
He didn’t.
She decided not to mention it.
Then the children discovered his age.
A little girl stood directly in front of him.
“Are you really more than a hundred?” “Yes.” “How much?” “About one hundred and twenty-five.” Her eyes widened.
“You’re a grandpa.” Kael stopped eating.
Rhea made a strange sound.
Kael looked toward her.
She immediately covered her mouth.
“I’m not.” The girl frowned.
“My grandpa is sixty-eight.” Another child nodded seriously.
“You’re almost two grandpas.” Rhea turned away.
Her shoulders started shaking.
Kael stared at the children.
He had fought creatures capable of flattening forests.
He had survived the Hollow Depth for a century.
He had mastered Decay.
None of those experiences had prepared him for this.
Later, Rhea made the mistake of continuing.
“Grandmaster?” Kael slowly looked at her.
She ran.
Kael remained seated.
Rhea laughed as she reached the other side of the square.
Then another Kael appeared in front of her.
She stopped.
Turned.
Another stood behind her.
“That’s cheating!” “Training.” “THIS IS NOT TRAINING!” The village children saw multiple Kaels.
Everything immediately became worse.
“Catch the grandpas!” Kael blinked.
Children rushed toward every occupied position.
One Kael stepped aside.
Another was immediately grabbed around the leg.
A third had two children trying to climb onto his back.
Rhea leaned against a wall laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
Somehow, within minutes, Kael had become part of a village game whose rules nobody appeared to understand.
His Plural Occupancy, an ability capable of allowing one individual to exist across countless positions, was currently being used to confuse six-year-olds.
Eventually, Rhea found one Kael sitting away from the main group while several others remained surrounded by children.
She sat beside him.
“Having fun?” “Maybe.” Rhea smiled.
For Kael, that was practically a confession.
She looked toward the other occupied positions.
“You’re good with them.” “No.” “One is sitting on your shoulders.” Kael glanced over.
“Would be annoying to remove him.” “Sure.” Rhea didn’t push.
For a hundred years, Kael had lived among monsters and silence.
Now there was music, terrible jokes, children shouting, merchants arguing, and someone drunkenly singing near the fire.
Kael stayed.
That was enough.
The village elder approached later with Darren.
“We’d like to use the road.” Kael looked at him.
“Okay.” Darren sighed.
“It’s more complicated than that.” “Why?” “There will be questions of ownership.” Kael’s expression flattened.
The elder laughed.
Darren continued.
“You could establish toll rights.” “Would that slow people down?” “Probably somewhat.” “Then no.” Darren looked physically wounded.
“You could make a fortune.” “I have money.” The elder smiled.
“Then at least allow us to repay you somehow.” “Don’t need anything.” The elder considered that.
“What about preserved ribs for the journey?” Kael looked at him.
“Yes.” Rhea stared.
“Money, no.
Meat, yes.” Kael accepted the package.
“I have money.” He lifted the food.
“Didn’t have this.” Rhea couldn’t argue with the logic.
Before they left the next morning, Darren finally asked the villagers what they intended to call the new route.
The elder looked confused.
“The Straight Road.” Rhea became completely still.
Kael slowly looked at her.
“See?” She pointed accusingly at the village.
“I hate this place.” The elder laughed.
Apparently the name had already spread among the villagers.
The Straight Road.
Rhea knew they were never getting rid of it now.
The caravan departed shortly after sunrise.
Villagers gathered to wave goodbye.
Children ran alongside the wagons.
“Bye!” “Come again!” Then one voice rose above the others.
“BYE, GRANDPA KAEL!” Others joined.
“BYE, GRANDPA!” Kael stopped.
The caravan continued several paces before Rhea noticed.
She looked back.
Then burst out laughing.
Bram heard it and joined her.
Even Toren smiled.
Kael eventually resumed walking.
He said nothing.
For almost ten minutes.
Then he looked at Rhea.
“Training.” Her laughter stopped.
“No.” “Every wagon.” “Master.” “Every rider.” Her face fell.
“Every guard.” “You’re being petty.” “Every horse.” Rhea stared at him.
“You’re abusing your authority as my master.” “You asked me to be your master.” Rhea opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Bram immediately stopped laughing.
The following days passed more peacefully.
Rhea trained.
The caravan traveled.
Kael discovered several foods he had never eaten before.
Bram lost money gambling with caravan drivers.
Mira occasionally joined Rhea’s awareness exercises, while Toren began asking Kael increasingly technical questions about movement and balance.
No ancient structures rose from the ground.
No mysterious creatures appeared.
No forgotten civilizations demanded attention.
They simply traveled.
And Kael found that he liked it.
Several days later, the terrain finally opened.
Veyrun appeared beyond the hills.
The city dwarfed Greyhaven.
Massive walls surrounded densely packed districts while towers rose beyond them.
Roads converged toward enormous gates filled with merchants, hunters, travelers, livestock, and wagons.
Rhea smiled.
“Finally.” Kael studied it.
Thousands of unfamiliar people.
Streets.
Markets.
Shops.
Restaurants.
For the first time in a century, an enormous piece of civilization waited directly ahead.
Then Kael smelled grilled meat.
He changed direction.
Rhea grabbed his sleeve.
“Master.” Kael looked at her.
“The city is that way.” She pointed toward Veyrun.
Kael pointed toward a roadside stall.
“Food.” “Veyrun has food!” “This one’s here.” Rhea closed her eyes.
After weeks of travel, they had finally reached one of the largest cities in the region.
And within thirty seconds, her master had already abandoned it for grilled meat.
the link is in the synonyms.