The road toward Skyfang Highlands split into three paths.
The western road descended toward the human trading settlements. The central route climbed through a forest of towering black pines, eventually reaching the mountain passes. The eastern road followed a river toward several Beastkin territories before disappearing beneath the cliffs.
Chrono stood before the wooden signpost, studying the faded markings.
Three roads. Three different risks.
And according to the information Serai had provided, none of them could be considered completely safe.
*"Which one?"* Lin would have asked if she were here.
Chrono paused. Then he shook his head. He didn't need to imagine what someone else would decide. He needed to determine which route made the most sense.
"Gran."
The wolf-like creature lifted his head.
"Check the central road. Don't go too far ahead. If you find anything unusual, come back."
Gran immediately trotted toward the forest.
"Glask, take the western path. Look for signs of abandoned caravans, damaged bridges, or anything that suggests the road has become dangerous."
"My lord."
Glask departed without hesitation.
Chrono looked toward Ember, who sat on his shoulder with its tails swaying lazily. "And you stay with me."
"Ky!"
"That wasn't a question."
Ember tilted its head.
Chrono sighed. Somehow, the little creature had already learned how to look innocent without actually behaving innocently.
He turned toward the eastern road. They would investigate that route together.
---
The eastern road was busier than Chrono expected.
A merchant wagon rolled past, pulled by two broad-shouldered beasts with thick hides and curved horns. Behind it, several Beastkin travelers carried baskets of dried fish, medicinal plants, and small metal tools. A pair of children ran alongside their parents, arguing over who had spotted the next milestone first.
Nothing about the scene suggested the world was on the verge of disaster.
Yet Chrono noticed the details. The merchant's wagon carried fewer goods than its size suggested. The travelers wore patched clothing and repaired equipment. Several people carried weapons openly, but their grips suggested they were more accustomed to handling tools than fighting. The children were laughing, but their parents repeatedly checked the surrounding forest.
Ordinary life continued.
*It simply demanded more attention than before.*
Chrono approached a roadside stall where an elderly Beastkin man was arranging small metal ornaments on a cloth. The man had short, rounded ears and thick gray fur along his forearms. A series of faint ridges ran down his neck, and his hands were unusually broad.
"Looking for something?"
"Information, mostly."
"Then you're in the wrong business. Information costs more than metal these days."
"Does that mean metal is cheap?"
The old Beastkin snorted. "Metal is heavy. Information travels."
Chrono smiled faintly. "Then perhaps I can afford a little information."
The man's gaze shifted toward Ember. "Pretty creature."
Ember immediately sat up straighter. "Ky!"
"Don't encourage it," Chrono said.
The old man chuckled. "You're heading toward the mountains?"
"Eventually."
"Then take the central road only if you're prepared to turn back."
"Why?"
"Because the merchants who used it last week haven't returned."
Chrono's expression became more serious. "Bandits?"
"Perhaps."
"Monsters?"
"Perhaps."
"You're remarkably helpful."
"I'm remarkably old. I've learned that people prefer simple answers, even when the truth is complicated."
The man picked up one of his ornaments and held it toward Chrono — a small metal disc with three grooves running across its surface. "Made by a dwarf. Supposed to represent the three roads. The craftsman said they were once connected to an older trade network."
Chrono examined it. The grooves were uneven, but the craftsmanship was better than it first appeared. "How old is this?"
"Older than me. Younger than the mountains."
"That narrows it down."
"Good. I charge extra for precise answers."
Chrono bought the ornament.
As he turned away, the old man spoke again. "If you're traveling with others, don't assume they'll all agree about which road to take."
Chrono glanced back. "That sounds like advice from experience."
"It is." The old Beastkin returned to arranging his merchandise. "Roads divide people long before they divide kingdoms."
---
By noon, Gran returned. He carried no injuries and appeared perfectly satisfied with himself.
Chrono crouched beside him. "What did you find?"
Gran sniffed the air, then walked several paces toward the forest. He stopped beside a patch of disturbed earth and scratched at it with one paw.
Chrono followed. The ground was covered in overlapping tracks. Cart wheels. Boots. Several sets of clawed footprints. And something else — long, narrow impressions at irregular intervals.
He knelt and examined them. "Someone dragged something heavy."
Gran barked once.
"How far?"
The wolf moved toward the trees, then looked back. Chrono followed for several minutes before reaching a shallow ditch concealed beneath fallen branches.
A broken cart lay at the bottom. Its wheels had been removed. The cargo compartment was empty.
Chrono inspected the surrounding area. There were no obvious signs of a prolonged battle — no scattered weapons, no extensive damage to the trees, no clear evidence that the cart had overturned accidentally. Someone had deliberately moved it away from the road.
He touched one of the wheel tracks. The earth had been disturbed recently.
"Someone wanted this hidden."
Gran sniffed around the ditch before growling softly. Chrono followed his gaze. A narrow trail led deeper into the forest.
He considered pursuing it. Then he stopped. He had no information about the number of people involved, their capabilities, or whether the trail had been left deliberately. Following it alone would provide little advantage.
"Good work, Gran." The wolf's ears perked up. "We'll mark the location and return with more information."
Gran looked toward the trail. For a moment, he seemed disappointed.
Chrono scratched behind his ear. "Being able to chase something doesn't mean chasing it is the right decision."
Gran sneezed.
Chrono stood. "That was almost a response."
They returned to the road.
---
Glask arrived shortly afterward.
"My lord, the western route remains usable. However, two merchant caravans have abandoned their journeys. Their drivers reported that several settlements refused to accept their goods."
"Why?"
"Insufficient storage, according to one account. The other settlement claimed that the goods had not been inspected."
"Convenient excuses."
"Indeed."
Chrono unfolded his map. The information was beginning to form a pattern.
The roads weren't all physically blocked. In several places, trade was failing because settlements had become unwilling to accept risks they couldn't afford. A town with limited food reserves might refuse a caravan carrying unfamiliar goods. A settlement with too many refugees might close its gates to travelers who needed shelter. Merchants might avoid an entire region because one wagon had disappeared.
None of those decisions necessarily required malicious intent. But their combined consequences could be devastating.
A village might have enough food while a settlement only two days away went hungry. A town might possess medicine that could save lives, yet refuse to sell it because the roads were dangerous and the next shipment might never arrive.
The world didn't need every settlement to fall.
*It only needed cooperation to become unreliable.*
Chrono marked several locations on his map. "We'll investigate the missing caravans, but we're not pursuing every trail we find. First, we need to know which settlements are still trading and which routes they consider safe."
Glask inclined his head. "A sensible approach, my lord."
"Let's hope the people responsible for the missing caravans are equally sensible."
Ember made a small noise from Chrono's shoulder. He glanced at it. "What?"
The fox stared toward the forest. Its ears had risen, and the faint flames around its tails had become unusually still.
Chrono followed its gaze. Nothing moved between the trees. No visible mana disturbance. No approaching creatures. Yet Ember continued watching the same patch of forest.
Chrono placed a hand against its back. "Did you sense something?"
Ember tilted its head. Then it looked away and settled against his shoulder.
Chrono didn't dismiss the reaction. He simply added another note to his mental list of unanswered questions.
---
They reached a small trading settlement before sunset.
Unlike the refugee camp, this place possessed a sturdy wooden palisade, a guarded entrance, and a market square filled with merchants preparing to close their stalls. Several Beastkin species moved through the streets. A pair of scaled travelers unloaded baskets of river fish. A broad-winged courier spoke with a human guard. Two children chased a wooden toy through the crowd until their mother called them back.
The settlement was alive.
*But the guards at the entrance were turning travelers away.*
Chrono watched as a family carrying their belongings approached the gate. The father possessed short horns and thick brown fur. His partner had feathered arms and a pair of small wings that appeared too weak for sustained flight. Two children stood between them.
The guard shook his head. "We're not accepting additional residents."
"We're not asking to stay permanently," the father replied. "We only need somewhere to rest before continuing east."
"Then continue east."
"The road is dangerous."
"That isn't our responsibility."
The father clenched his jaw. For a moment, Chrono thought he might argue further. Instead, he gathered his belongings and turned away. The children followed. The younger one looked back at the settlement before disappearing around the corner.
Chrono watched them leave.
He could challenge the guard. He could attempt to negotiate. He could spend the evening arguing with the settlement's officials. But he didn't know how many people the settlement could support, how much food remained in its stores, or what obligations its leaders had already accepted.
He wasn't going to pretend that a single act of generosity could solve the problem.
Still, he could ask questions.
He approached the guard. "How many travelers have you turned away today?"
The man looked him over. "Why?"
"Because I'm trying to understand the situation before making assumptions."
The guard studied him for a moment. Then he sighed. "Thirty-two."
"How many have been accepted?"
"Eleven."
"How many of those eleven had nowhere else to go?"
The guard hesitated. "I don't know."
"How many had relatives inside the settlement?"
"Most of them."
Chrono nodded slowly.
There it was. The settlement wasn't necessarily refusing everyone out of cruelty. It was prioritizing people who already had connections, people whose needs were known, and people who could be accommodated without creating additional uncertainty.
But the policy also disadvantaged strangers. Those without relatives, money, or a recognized community were the first to be turned away.
Chrono thanked the guard and moved on. He wouldn't be able to fix that tonight. Perhaps he wouldn't be able to fix it at all.
*But he could remember it.*
---
As the sun sank behind the mountains, Chrono opened his map again.
Three roads. Several settlements. A growing number of missing caravans. And a pattern of people becoming increasingly isolated as the world grew less predictable.
He marked the trading settlement and drew a line toward Skyfang Highlands.
The ancient structures remained his primary concern. Yet the people along the roads were becoming part of the same investigation — not because every hardship was connected to the ancient mystery, but because understanding the world required understanding what happened to the people living in it.
Ember curled against his shoulder. Gran settled beside the campfire. Glask stood watch near the edge of the road.
For the moment, they were safe.
Tomorrow, they would continue east.
And somewhere beyond the mountains, something was changing the world in ways that even the people living closest to it could not yet understand.