The ration block tasted of chalk and cold grease.
The dense calories hit his stomach. The trembling in Kael's hands ceased. The Furnace flooded his limbs with heat. The ache in his chest settled into a dull, rhythmic throb.
He reached for the leather canteen. Light.
He took a small sip. The water tasted of boiled leather. Around him, the Black Rain dripped from the leaves, sizzling where it pooled in the mud.
He capped the canteen.
He stood.
He strapped the rolled Skin of the Abomination tight against his spine. He slung the Monolith over it. The iron settled against his shoulder.
He stepped out of the hollow.
The rain thinned to a drizzle. The forest woke. Pale Corpse-Lilies retracted their petals, sealing the digestive slime inside their buds.
Kael moved south-east. Boots sank into the wet mulch.
Two hours later, the trees thinned. The soft earth gave way to cracked cobblestones.
The Trade Road.
Kael stepped onto the mud and broken stone. He walked the center line.
His cloak was stained with mud and black blood. His boots were scuffed. The bundle on his back disrupted his silhouette.
Three figures detached themselves from the shadows of a ruined tollhouse.
Patchwork leather boiled in wax. Rusted pikes. Serrated machetes.
"Hold it," the leader grunted. Half his face was covered in a fungal rash. He stepped into Kael's path. He leveled a crossbow. "Toll road."
Kael maintained his pace. Thud. Thud. Thud.
"I said stop!" The leader's finger tightened on the trigger. "Drop the pack. And the iron."
The other two bandits fanned out to the flanks.
Kael adjusted his grip on the Monolith.
Ten meters. Firm ground.
"Last warning!" The leader raised the crossbow.
Kael unclipped the strap.
The Monolith slid into his hands. The iron slab locked into position.
Thrum.
The bolt flew.
Kael twisted his torso. The bolt hit the flat surface of the Monolith. Ping. The steel shaft shattered against the cast iron.
The leader blinked.
Kael surged.
Muscles fired. He crossed the gap.
The leader scrambled to reload. He raised the stock as a club.
Kael swung.
Crack.
The Monolith hit the crossbow. The wood exploded. The iron continued its arc. It connected with the chest.
The ribcage collapsed. The bandit lifted off his feet and landed five yards back in the mud.
Thud.
The other two bandits froze. They looked at the broken heap. They looked at Kael.
Kael stood there. The iron slab rested in one hand. His breathing was even. His face was slack.
"Next," Kael said.
The bandit on the left screamed. He charged with a machete.
Kael stepped into the swing. The machete clanged against his iron shoulder guard. Kael drove the pommel of the Monolith forward.
Crunch.
The nose flattened. Cartilage disintegrated. The man dropped.
The third bandit dropped his pike. He turned and scrambled over the slick cobblestones.
Kael watched him go. He remained still.
He crouched beside the leader's body. He patted down the corpse.
A small pouch of copper coins. A flint striker. A half-eaten bag of dried berries.
Kael pocketed the coins. He dropped the berries into the mud.
He stood. He re-strapped the Monolith. He stepped over the body.
He continued down the center of the road. He checked his wrist. Pulse steady.
An hour later, the smell of woodsmoke cut through the damp air.
Kael crested a low hill. Below, in a valley choked with fog, sat a cluster of reinforced wooden buildings.
Blackwood Post.
Lanterns glowed behind the palisade. The clang of a smithy rang out.
Kael touched the pocket with the amulet.
He adjusted the heavy skin on his back. He started the descent.
The gates were cedar. Rot-resistant planks reinforced with scrap metal. Every board bore repair scars.
Kael stood in the entry queue.
"Entry fee. Two coppers."
He flicked the coins onto the table. The guard looked past Kael's shoulder toward the tree line. His hand hovered near the alarm bell. Fingers twitched with every shift of the wind.
Kael stepped inside.
Sound hit first. Steel ringing against steel. Hawkers barking prices. A wet, deep cough from the alley. Mud churned underfoot, mixed with straw and ash.
Kael stopped beneath a watchtower.
He looked at the settlement. The layout was chaotic. Shanty structures leaned against reinforced keeps.
Kael moved into the crowd.
He scanned the street. He ignored the open market stalls. He looked for the reinforced doors.
He found The Broken Scale behind the smithy.
Inside, the air smelled of paper and oil. Behind iron bars sat a merchant. One eye was glass. One hand was a complex pincer of brass and steel.
"We don't buy guard gear," the merchant said. The mechanical fingers scratched a quill across a ledger.
Kael placed the jeweled amulet on the counter.
The scratching stopped.
The merchant looked up. The glass eye clicked. The lens rotated.
"House Leo," the merchant said. "High heat."
"Eighty," Kael said. "And a map."
The merchant looked at the gold.
"Seventy. Southern sector only."
"Deal."
Booty changed hands. A rolled parchment followed.
Kael stepped outside. He crossed toward the timber-framed hall. Smoke poured from its chimneys.
His stomach clenched. A sharp, hollow cramp twisted his gut.
He pushed the door open.
Heat hit him. The taproom was crowded. Mercenaries. Traders. Locals.
Kael claimed a corner table. He dropped his pack. Thud. He leaned the Monolith against the wall.
"Stew," he said to the serving girl. He dropped a silver coin. "Meat. Bread. Ale. Keep it coming."
The food arrived.
Thick brown stew. Black bread. A tankard of sweating ale.
Kael took the first spoonful.
Hot. Salty. The meat fibers fell apart against his tongue. The vegetables were paste.
He ate.
Bread next.
Crunch.
Grit from millstones ground against his teeth.
He swallowed. He washed it down with sour ale.
He finished the bowl. He flagged the girl. "Another."
By the third bowl, he stopped chewing. He shoveled the food in.
His stomach expanded. Heat bloomed in his core. Muscles tightened as the Furnace ignited.
The girl returned with a roast chicken. She watched him strip meat from bone.
"You… done after this?" she asked.
"For now," Kael said. "I need a room. Private."
He set a coin down.
"I head north at dawn," he added. "Trade Road still passable?"
The girl hesitated. She lowered her voice.
"We have rooms. But… don't take the north road."
Kael paused. "Why?"
"They sent soldiers. Capital troops. Weeks ago."
"And?"
"They never arrived."
Crack.
The chicken bone in Kael's hand snapped.
"No scouts. No banners. No bodies," she whispered. "It's like the road swallowed five thousand men."
Kael flicked another coin onto the table. She retreated.
Kael unrolled the map beside the empty bowls.
Blackwood Post. Deadlands. The Iron Dominion.
He traced the distance. Millions of miles.
Kael rolled the map. He gathered his gear. He took the key from the counter.
The room smelled of pine and dust. The door was oak. The bolt was iron.
Kael locked it. He wedged a chair under the handle.
He sat on the edge of the mattress. The Monolith rested within arm's reach.
He closed his eyes.
"System."
Blue text flickered in the dark.
[ STATUS PANEL ]
[ NAME: KAEL ]
[ ATTRIBUTES ]
[ VITALITY: 2.7 ] [ STRENGTH: 2.8 ] [ AGILITY: 1.8 ]
[ SKILLS ]
[ GLUTTONY RITUAL — MASTER ]
[ IRON BREAKER STYLE — ADEPT ]
[ EARTH BREATH STANCE — EXPERT ]
His eyes drifted to the bottom right corner.
[ AETHER POINTS: 19.1 ]
Kael focused on the number.
It was time to evolve.