Chương 142: The Rhythm of the Road

Christoph walked them to the front of the column like he owned the place.

"Madam Westbrook." He stopped beside the lead wagon where a stout woman in finely tailored traveler's clothes was checking a manifest against the contents of a crate.

"May I present your additional security: my grand-niece, Corinne Hearthsong, and her associate, Cal Valorn. Corinne, Cal, this is the caravan owner, Eris Westbrook." The woman looked up from her clipboard. She studied Cal from boots to spear tip, keen brown eyes lingering on the ka-vae'zhar shortsword at his hip before glancing to the bow riding above his pack. She repeated the assessment on Corinne in half the time. Eris raised her eyebrows a fraction.

"You are… both following the Harmonic Path, yes? Isn't that a bit rare out here?" Cal shrugged in response. She made a note.

"My head of security, Steinar Hayes, will get you sorted out. Welcome aboard. Please don't make any trouble." The caravan owner turned back to her crate without another word, her eyes already back on the manifest before either of them had moved. A man materialized from behind the second wagon as if he had been waiting for his cue. He was lean, wiry, and habitually alert, his paranoid light blue eyes constantly in motion. Graying hair cropped to military standard adorned his head.

He wore leather armor etched with dozens of tiny personal symbols that didn't have any spiritual signature. He assessed them both, pausing on Cal's spear, tracked down to the shortsword, and looked back at his face.

"You two will walk escort by the eleventh wagon. We eat in the mornin' before the caravan gits goin' and in the evenin' when the caravan stops. Ya sleep when yer off rotation; everyone does four hours a night. Ya don't wander off. Anythin' moves in the treeline that isn't a bird or a squirrel, you report to me before you draw weapons." He paused, lifting his chin to motion further down the line of wagons.

"We got ten dedicated guards, plus another half-dozen armed travelers like yerselves who can hold a weapon if things get interestin'. That's… barely adequate. I'd prefer comfortable, but adequate s'all we're gettin' fer this run."

"Uhhh, thanks. I'm Cal by the way, and this here is Corinne. I take it you're Steinar?" The man snorted and turned to walk away.

"Yes, yes." Corinne let out a breath.

"He's cheerful." Cal barked a laugh in response.

"That's a word for it! Come on, might as well go find our designated wagon." A young dwarven woman ended up driving said wagon and didn't look up when they approached. She sat on the driver's bench with the reins draped loosely across her lap, her dark eyes fixed on the four garrons harnessed to her wagon. Black hair hung over her shoulders in two thick braids, and her calloused hands rested on her thighs, motionless, wholly unbothered by the delay. Cal opened his mouth to introduce himself.

The dwarf's lead garron, a broad-chested horse-like animal with a grey-dappled coat, swung its big head toward them and snorted. The woman watched the garron for a beat, then glanced at Cal and Corinne, almost immediately returning her attention to her animals.

"Yes, hello to you too mister horsey. I'm Cal and this is Corinne. We're—""I'm Mahina," the dwarven woman interrupted, the conversation clearly over. Corinne elbowed Cal in the ribs and whispered with a giggle, "No backing out now Cal! You can't leave me alone with these people!" He could only shake his head in agreement. The caravan eventually lurched into motion with a chorus of creaking axles and the steady clop-clop of hooves on stone.

Deadfall's cobbled streets gave way to the eastern road, and the transition was slightly jarring. The uneven paving of the frontier village vanished beneath a ribbon of fused grey stone that stretched ahead in a perfectly straight line, slicing through the Virethane. Cal could better feel the energy maintaining the road now. Predominantly earth Mana, which was unsurprising.

He bulldozed his perception through the protections like he'd done under the dungeon core, although it was much easier on the road, and it revealed the runes peppered through the stone's structure. He couldn't really understand them, but he made sure to memorize each glyph and pattern all the same, thinking he could use it on his basement modifications at the very least. The infrastructure was so casually impressive it bordered on the absurd. The Virethane rose on both sides as Deadfall shrank behind them.

Dawn of the second day found Cal sitting on a fallen log at the edge of the overnight camp, his travel pack open beside him. The pre-departure bustle filled the clearing, with guards checking weapons, Mahina murmuring to her garrons as she inspected their hooves, and Eris directing the loading of a supply crate while others ate a cold breakfast. Cal opened his status after he'd taken the last essence stone. PRIMARY ATTRIBUTES | VIT | 20. 00% | E | | STR | 20. 00% | E | | AGI | 20. 00% | E | | END | 20.

00% | E | | INT | 20. 00% | E | | WIL | 20. 00% | E | | WIS | 20. 00% | E | It was the second day of his plan to slowly bring his attributes up to the E-tier threshold. He wanted to be at full strength as soon as possible but didn't want to run afoul of the twenty-percent rule again. He figured the trip out was a better time to test the changes and recalibrate when all he had to do was walk the road the entire day.

He hadn't wanted to deal with any problems attribute enhancement might have caused when he was rushing to get things done leading up to the trip. So far, the results had been… rather boring. His Impartments seemed to trivialize adapting to a simple ten percent increase in power. Corinne dropped onto the log beside him, a strip of dried meat hanging from her mouth.

"How many today, oh Sovereignest of Aspirants?"

"Two for each attribute again, same as yesterday."

"Boooring! Why not more?" She tore off a bite of jerky, chewing around the question.

"Because I want to study the changes." Cal flexed his hands, feeling the increased Strength in his forearms.

"Every stone shifts the baseline. My casting control, my reaction speed, my coordination, my strength... If I slam twenty stones into a single attribute at once, it'll be Clumsy Cal all over again. Nooo thank you." Corinne squinted at him.

"You're no fun. It was hilarious when you knocked that goblet across the room."

"Ha, for you maybe!" He grew more serious for a moment.

"The other reason I'm doing this is for combat readiness, Cor. I can't protect you if some beastie comes bursting out of the woods and I'm stumbling around like a drunken sailor. Out here, that could get someone killed." She stopped chewing and turned to look at him.

"Way to get all serious and ruin the fun when you don't even know what a drunken sailor looks like."

"You've got food hanging from your mouth." She grinned and punched his shoulder. The first water break came two hours into the morning march. Cal rested against their wagon's sideboard and watched Mahina work. She moved quietly among her garrons, treating them with a tenderness and grace that was hard to look away from. Each animal received the same ritual: a low, rumbling hum from deep in her chest as she carefully inspected their hooves and harness points.

Then a brief moment where she simply stood with her palm against its neck, head tilted, listening to something only she could hear. The lead garron, the grey-dappled one, leaned its massive head into her shoulder and exhaled a shuddering breath. Mahina almost smiled, her weathered features softening.

"Hhhhmmm-rrrruuuummm," she rumbled, stroking its muzzle. She noticed Cal and her face closed back up. Cal looked away and let her have her privacy. The day progressed into the afternoon of highsun, the travelers snacking on trail rations as they walked or rode. The caravan had settled into the hypnotic rhythm of the road. Cal sent out a [Spiritual Pulse].

The burst of Mana-charged perception launched from his awareness in an omnidirectional wave, filtered to strip out spatial data and return only spiritual signatures. The mental star chart appeared behind his eyes: the bright constellation of the caravan's personnel and the faint specks of small auras with spirituality in the surrounding forest. Nothing out of the ordinary, eh? He dismissed the mental map and turned his focus inward to his new technique, matching the cadence of the march.

It had been named [Moving Meditation]. He'd adapted it from Aurelian's lessons on improving energy regeneration that let him create the necessary environment in his spirit and body to gain Mana and Stamina faster while moving. Stolen novel; please report. Putting that theory into practice had allowed him to keep honing his spellwork as they traveled, and he was currently working on manipulating multiple [Air Hands] at once.

Casting and holding the Spell wasn't an issue; he'd found that he could hold near a half dozen Spells active simultaneously. It really didn't stress his mind as long as he had the Mana. The issue was getting the Spells to actually do something besides just remain active. Spells required Intent to function beyond a steady state, and Intent required directed, conscious thought. So far, he hadn't been able to pull that off. How the heck could Aurelian use three of these silly hands at one time? What's the trick?

After a few more minutes of trying and failing to get Grubby I and Grubby II to play rock paper scissors, he sent out another pulse. The spiritual star chart sparked to life once more, but something was wrong. There were two High-Red E-tier signatures moving in parallel with the caravan, eighty yards into the treeline on the north side. Cal reached for his spear and walked up to Steinar, who was riding in the lead wagon.

"Hey there Steinar, there are two prowlers… prowling in the forest to the north," Cal said.

"What do you want to do?" Steinar's nostrils flared as he tracked the treeline. He held perfectly still for two heartbeats, then turned back to Cal.

"I see 'em too. Good job, lad." He unsheathed his longsword and hopped down from the wagon.

"Let's see what ya got." They moved into the forest together. Before they'd made it sixty yards into the trees the first prowler broke cover. It launched from the undergrowth in a blur of bristling brown fur, hurtling toward Cal and going for his throat. He sidestepped, pivoted, and drove his spear in and out of the beast's heart so smoothly it barely looked like he'd moved. The second prowler bolted but Steinar was already there.

His sword came down in a diagonal arc that caught the creature across the spine, and the veteran's D-tier strength easily split it in twain. Steinar cleaned his blade on a handful of moss and studied Cal.

"Where did ya say ya were from again?"

"Deadfall village..."

"Uh huh… say, why don't ya skin yers? I think it's got a stone in it." Cal looked from the prowler at his feet and back to the guard leader, slowly shaking his head.

"Nooope. I think that one's a lost cause."

"Uh huuuuuuh. Good senses on ya, lad." Cal sighed. What is it with these Legion types and their need to test me?

"Let's git on back. No use stressin' out Eris longer 'an necessary." Evening settled over the caravan as they bedded down for the night, cookfires scattered along the shoulder. Cal found Christoph seated on a folding camp chair beside the lead wagon, a cup of something dark and aromatic steaming in his hands.

"Hey Christoph, I've been thinking about the road," Cal said, lowering himself onto a supply crate across from the older man. Christoph sipped his drink.

"An unusual subject for a young man's contemplation."

"Well, it's a pretty awesome piece of infrastructure, right? It's got Mana running through it that seems to give it a self-maintaining surface and who knows what else. Someone spent a fortune building this. So, it got me thinking: do standard taxes cover its use, or are there additional fees?" Christoph set his cup down. For the first time since Cal had met him, Christoph actually seemed to give him his full attention.

"There are tolls, yes. Significant ones. Per-wagon fees levied at toll stations between major settlements, collected by the Dominion's road authority. The cost is..." He paused, selecting his words with care.

"Considerable. Particularly for a caravan of this size."

"Like, how considerable?"

"Enough that a merchant operating on thin margins would find the eastern route prohibitive. Eris budgets roughly twelve percent of her gross revenue for road fees alone." Holy mackerel that's a lot of money! And that's just one caravan, on one road, making one trip! The Dominion collected this fee from every merchant, trader, and supply convoy moving goods across its territory. The road was a revenue stream dressed as public infrastructure… …

And his [Portal] Spell could bypass all of it between locations he'd visited. Hmm…

"What about that Courier service you purchased to get to Deadfall; did that incur some toll or tax too?"

"Ha! Pushing right to the heart of it, aren't you, lad? You wouldn't know this, but the Dominion regulates the knowledge of those portal Spells heavily. The Guilds and merchant organizations that have access to them, not to mention the noble houses, are all under strict oaths of confidentiality to keep it restricted. On top of that, they pay tithes to use them every year. The empire keeps a tight grip on all of the means of transportation across the land, making sure that it keeps its subjects under control.

Un-authorized use is likewise severely punished, although how you catch someone that can escape into thin air is beyond this old man..." Ok, wow. That's… a whole other layer to this thing I didn't realize. I'm glad I asked, but I feel like this is going to limit my ability to make a quick buck off portaling people around. If I don't want to sign on with some Guild outfit, that is. There would probably be some uncomfortable questions about where and how I learned the Spell…

"You have a keen mind for commerce," Christoph continued, watching him with renewed interest.

"A rare quality in someone of your... background." Something shifted in Christoph. He leaned back in his chair, and when he spoke again, he was less formal.

"The Hearthsong Consortium is somewhat larger than people in Deadfall tend to realize." He laced his fingers across his lap.

"We have twelve inns across the province, yes, and five more through the rune gate. That is the public face; the brand identity. But the hospitality division only generates around fifty percent of our total revenue. The remainder comes from a portfolio of complementary enterprises, such as fine-dining establishments. Rental housing complexes near the rune gate, catering to the transient populations the gate creates. And a chain of provisioning shops positioned along major trade roads."

"That's… quite the diversified portfolio." Christoph raised his eyebrows.

"Precisely the term I would use, young man. You continue to surprise me." The cookfire had burned low by the time Cal turned his attention to Corinne. She stood in the cleared space between two wagons, her borrowed training spear held in a guard position that was almost correct. Almost. Her back foot was angled too far inward, and her grip choked up an inch past optimal.

"Widen your rear stance a touch." Cal circled her, his own spear resting across his shoulders.

"And drop your grip." Corinne adjusted and her stance improved.

"Better. Now, let's practice the thrust I showed you yesterday. Yes, it's less powerful than [Breaching Thrust], but you can adjust the trajectory mid-extension a lot easier, giving you more accuracy on the fly." He turned toward the makeshift targets he'd set up.

"Aim for the center mark on that top barrel." She drove the spear forward.

"Good. Now keep attacking that position, resetting between each thrust. I'll call out a new location while your attack is in flight. Your job is to change to the new direction without slowing, and before you hit the target." She thrust again. And again. After the fourth thrust Cal gave her a directional change.

"Up!" Her strike hit the barrel halfway between the center target and the top target.

"Nice try! Reset!" After another twenty minutes Cal called a break.

"That's enough for now, Cor. You did a great job." He smirked at her.

"Ready for the fun part?" Corinne lit up. She immediately dropped the spear and sat cross-legged on the ground right where she had been standing.

"Haha, looks like you are ready. As you know, the [Light Orb] Spell has three components," Cal said, settling across from her.

"The [Lux] rune at the center, [Continuance] around it, and [Control] anchoring the whole thing. You drew [Lux] and [Control] fine yesterday so tonight we'll add [Continuance] and see how you do holding all three." Cal drew all three runes into the air in front of her, and Corinne narrowed her eyes in concentration. Cal watched her Mana stir, a faint thread of energy rising from her core and flowing into her outstretched hands. She drew the [Lux] rune first.

The [Control] square formed around it, its edges wobbly but stable. She looked over to Cal's reference runes, glancing back and forth repeatedly. The first curve of the [Continuance] rune shook as she carved it into the air. She made it halfway around the [Lux] core, biting her lip the entire way. Then the tail end destabilized. The rune began to waver, buckled, and the entire structure collapsed into a brief flash of white sparks that glittered and disappeared.

"Crumb!" she exclaimed, scowling at the empty air. Cal chuckled and shook his head at the use of the word. He wasn't sure how he felt about that rubbing off on her.

"That's a great first try, Corinne. You've got this."

"Great doesn't get me a useful night light when nature calls!"

"Pfft! Never was there a more worthy reason to learn magic!" He ducked, laughing, as she tossed a clump of moss at him.

"You're progressing fast, don't worry. I can tell you have the attributes and the ability to do this; you just need some more practice. You'll get the Spell working before we get to Mirathra, I guarantee it." Corinne blew a strand of hair from her face and held out her hands again.

"Again." Cal smiled.

'Atta girl. The routine had become mechanical after ten days. Cal sat on another fallen log and pulled his status screen up to a feeling of deja vu that was both rewarding and depressing. PRIMARY ATTRIBUTES | VIT | 95. 05% | E | | STR | 95. 05% | E | | AGI | 95. 05% | E | | END | 95. 05% | E | | INT | 95. 05% | E | | WIL | 95. 05% | E | | WIS | 95. 05% | E | He sighed. Time to pay the Toll once again, and this time I don't think I'm going to have some rich royals to bail me out.

Twenty yards away, Corinne hauled a water bucket from a nearby stream to Mahina's lead garron. The dwarven woman watched her with an expression that had evolved over nine days, from flat indifference to something approaching grudging approval. When Corinne set the bucket down, Mahina offered her a tight-lipped nod: Corinne smiled like she had been handed a trophy. Steinar's morning briefing was the usual seven words: "Stay in formation. Stay alert. Move out." The caravan lurched forward, and the trip continued on.

Highsun pressed down on the caravan from overhead, the changing weather actually starting to warm the air. Both suns rode the apex of the sky, the overlapping shadows of the forest canopy created interesting patterns on the stone surface as the breeze moved the highest branches. The caravan had spread into its loose marching order, the wagons maintaining even intervals. Hooves struck stone in a drone so steady it had become the background song of consciousness.

Mahina's garrons plodded onward with the patient endurance of animals bred for exactly this purpose. Guards sat their horses with eyes that had gone glassy from hours of unchanging forest. Cal walked beside their wagon, his spear slung across his shoulders, his mind drifting through the comfortable haze of a body in motion and a schedule running on rails. He gathered the typical amount of Mana, shaped it through the familiar framework of [Spiritual Pulse], and released it.

The wave expanded outward in a sphere, passing through trees, earth, stone, and flesh. The spiritual star chart appeared in his mind: the bright cluster of the caravan, the scattered specks of forest wildlife. His heart stopped. There were dozens of new signatures. Human auras. Ringing the caravan on both flanks, positioned at the extreme edge of his effective range. Oh. Oh no. Cal poured Mana into a new [Continuance] rune and fired a second, wider pulse, twice as powerful as the first.

His awareness expanded and updated, and the scale of what they were up against crystallized into a devastating picture. Three signatures burned in their ranks like malevolent suns, their auras radiating a density and pressure that dwarfed everything around them. D-tier. High D-tier, just like Steinar and Christoph, except there were three of them. Twenty others represented E-tier combatants arranged in clusters spread across the line.

And filling the gaps between, curving in a crescent that wrapped around the caravan on both sides of the road, was at least sixty more F-tier fighters. They were surrounded. Cal lowered his spear from his shoulders and gripped it in both hands, staring intensely out into the woods. His blood hammered in his ears, but his thoughts stayed cold and clear with [Savant of the Mind] under maximum load. He turned his head and found Steinar already walking down the line towards him.

The veteran's eyes were wide, his hand frozen on the hilt of his sword. The sharp man must have seen something in Cal's behavior.

"What's out there, lad?" Cal told him. Steinar paled.

"Shite."