Chapter 98: Hidden Concerns

As the road narrowed, travelers felt not only that they were plunging deeper into the mountains, but also that they were plunging deeper into the drought.

At the journey's start, near the Tobid River basin—that sole turbid yellow river—scattered stunted trees still dotted the mountainsides, yet a week ago they had seen no trees taller than their heads.

By the journey's end, or at least what Kraft and William considered the finale, vegetation had grown so sparse it no longer choked the rarely traveled path, leaving the road clearly visible even in the afterglow of sunset.

William had insisted on an early morning departure, yet they were still dragged out until the sun sank below the horizon.

Rocks frequently littered the road, blocking the way; after nearly snapping an axle, Peter dared no longer challenge the mountain road's sharp turns with his driving skills, instead stopping obediently each time to summon the male passengers to push the obstacles aside together.

It was clear these were not man-made barriers; similar stones were scattered across the slopes on both sides, likely having rolled down from higher ground.

Kraft initially thought the lack of plant roots to anchor the soil had loosened the stones, but later in the journey he noticed a discrepancy. The distribution of these rocks on the mountain was highly uneven: some sections were densely packed, piled up in the valleys, while after walking a stretch, hardly any could be seen.

Whether by coincidence or not, looking upward, if the angle was just right, one could mostly spot circular dark patches hidden among the vegetation on the upper slopes, corresponding to the scattered rubble zones.

This journey, alternating between riding and manual labor, encountered an insurmountable difficulty by evening. Several massive boulders were wedged in the road; they did not completely block the path, but they made passage for the carriage impossible.

The village residents seemed to have no need for animal-drawn transport, or perhaps had never considered contacting the outside world, leaving the boulders lying exactly where they had fallen, paying no heed to the sole entry and exit road.

Watching the sun nearly press against the opposite ridge, turning back was certainly too late; moving forward, the distance was unknown, leaving them stranded on a narrow mountain pass halfway up.

"We can't go on like this, Peter. Unhitch the horses and get down; we'll walk around them." A captain cannot be indecisive; William shouldered his pack first, leaped from the carriage, and decided to finish the remaining distance on foot. "Leave the carriage here; consider it bought by me."

The budget was still more than sufficient; the greatest cost was actually time. Diverting time meant for cargo transport to other uses still required paying the sailors' wages, and this broken carriage wasn't even worth a fraction of that.

Compared to losing a bit of money, he was even less willing to travel by night, let alone spend the night in the wild.

"Sit tight; if it really gets bad, just hug the horse's neck. I'll lead from the front." Considering Yin Feng might not keep up, she received special treatment: Kraft helped her onto the horse, and Kup led it.

This horse had behaved quite docilely throughout the journey, but the steep slope on one side made him feel uneasy. "If you really get thrown off, cover your head and shout for help, understand?"

Yin Feng nodded obediently.

The party passed through the gaps between the boulders, palms pressing against the rock face; the grainy texture scratched their palm lines. After brushing past a steep, sharp angle, they reached the other side.

Several uprooted shrubs lay prostrate on the ground; they seemed to have been pulled up some time ago. From the leaves to the withered, soil-clinging roots, days of relentless sun had drained all moisture.

Kraft looked around, found no trace of their origin, and could think of no reason for a person or animal to uproot shrubs and abandon them here. "William, have you encountered a similar situation before?"

"What? Certainly. If necessary, I'd jettison half the cargo on the ship just to ensure we reach port before a storm catches us." William answered while pulling out torches. To reduce weight, they had brought only small torches, distributing one or two per person. If they truly had to travel by night, they would have to use them in shifts.

"No, I'm not talking about that. I mean this terrain, caves, falling rocks, and the like." Kraft rubbed a dusty, earthy leaf in his hand; it retained a little resilience and didn't crumble easily into fragments. "And these plants; is there any animal here that likes to uproot vegetation?"

To draw moisture in a dry climate, shrub roots must be well-developed; the force required to pull them directly from the soil is generally beyond human capability.

"No? Perhaps they were dragged out when the rocks fell?" William looked at Peter, the guide who was dutifully leading the horses toward the middle of the mountain path; hearing this, he turned back to look.

"Does a sand rat count? About the size of a fist."

"Impossible. So it really was loose rocks dragging them out?" Kraft lifted the entire plant, discovering its root system was still largely intact; except for fine rootlets, hardly any were broken, unlike something forcibly yanked from the earth.

A sailor scooped up the rootlets to inspect them but saw nothing clearly. Unknowingly, the sun had sunk considerably lower; people suffering from varying degrees of night blindness found it difficult to see without torches in the dim light of the approaching night.

"Forget it. While there's still light, light our torches, two at a time. If we haven't reached our destination after another stretch, we'll have to try finding a place to spend the night."

The party totaled only eight people; one torch at the front and one at the rear sufficed for illumination. William and Peter led at the very front, the sailors watched the rear, and the middle was arranged for Kraft's group, unfamiliar with the wild.

They walked the final minutes in the dying sunset glow. Shadows rose from the valley floor, surging over the jagged, interlocking boulders, climbing the steep slopes, spilling onto the road to engulf their feet, and visibly driving away the last thread of light from the mountain peak.

The sun set, and the party fell into the night, surrounded by the hills.

Everyone consciously closed their mouths, focusing on walking close to the mountainside. The range of the torchlight was not far; a few missteps during idle chatter could send someone tumbling down the steep slope on the outer edge of the path.

Those rock edges had been seen in the daylight; they were the valley's fangs, capable of easily slicing and piercing anyone who stumbled, making them pay a permanent price for a moment's carelessness.

William's vision was no better; when he took the second torch from a sailor's hand, Kraft, standing in the middle of the party, could see sweat trickling down his forehead. He pressed on, slowing his pace, driven solely by the determination not to spend the night in the wild.

The faint, rhythmic sound of footsteps became the theme of the environment; even the horses matched William's pace. Only occasionally, when someone tripped over loose gravel, would the rhythm be briefly disrupted.

It was embarrassing to admit, but a soul from another world was quite sensitive to footsteps, possessing ample experience distinguishing them, useful for certain small activities under the covers at night.

With superhuman memory, remembering the footsteps of the entire party was effortless; unfortunately, no one came daily to catch him anymore, and the late-night reading had shifted to thick volumes and teaching notes.

But the skill had not regressed upon his arrival here; instead, it had improved due to the switch to more sensitive hearing.

Amidst the orderly steps, Kup, leading the horses, noticed that Kraft ahead suddenly broke from the unison, shortening his stride while increasing his frequency, deliberately disrupting the rhythm.

The sudden change in step frequency threw his own rhythm into chaos, nearly causing him to trip over his own feet.

"What's wrong?"

"Quiet." Kraft replaced explanation with a brief command, glanced once at the path behind, outside the circle of the rear torchlight, and deliberately altered his footsteps a second time.