The golden light on the eastern horizon had disappeared, replaced by a gray dawn that opened the way for them. Kieran drew a deep breath, the cold morning air filling his young lungs, while his old mind mapped every detail of the four-day journey ahead. Oak, the faithful old horse, exhaled a steaming breath in front of the cart that had been filled with herbal boxes. In the cloth basket on his lap, the crystal container holding the Starlight Bloom bud still bent stubbornly toward the east.

  "Good morning to you too," murmured Rhen, yawning widely while lifting the last basket onto the cart. "Ready to play the role?"

  Mira emerged from the warehouse, carrying a cloth bag of the last provisions. Her face was tense, but her eyes shone with anticipation. "I have memorized all the herb names and their uses. Silverleaf for wounds, feverfew for headaches, willow bark for pain and fever. Red moss for skin infections, bitter root for digestive disorders."

  "Good," said Kieran, standing. "[Load Analysis: Weight Distribution Estimation]," Tier 2. His willpower crept over the cart, ensuring there were no weak points. "But remember, you do not need to demonstrate that knowledge unless asked. Most merchants only care about price and visual quality."

  Mira nodded, swallowing. "I will try not to sound like a walking catalogue."

  Rhen checked Oak's reins one more time, then climbed up to the driver's bench. Kieran and Mira sat in the back, among stacks of boxes that smelled of dryness and earth. With one gentle jolt and a sound of "come on" from Rhen, the cart began to move, leaving the old warehouse that had been their base for weeks.

  The first day of travel passed in mostly comfortable silence. The dusty dirt road stretched between freshly planted fields, with low ridges of hills in the distance. Kieran used this time to observe and adjust. Every movement of the cart, every change of wind, every bird sound—all were recorded by a mind trained in hyper-vigilance.

  "[Environmental Scan: Long-Range Threat Detection]," he murmured, Tier 3. His perception net spread as far as one kilometer, touching the small life in the bushes, underground water currents, changing wind patterns. No signs of active danger. Only the rural world waking slowly.

  "It feels strange," whispered Mira, watching the fields pass by. "Leaving all of that. The forest, the warehouse… all of it."

  "That is the essence of a journey," said Rhen without turning. "Leaving the known to find the not yet known. My father used to say, if you never feel strange when you leave, it means you are not really leaving."

  Kieran was silent, observing his own body's reactions. Young muscles not yet accustomed to sitting long began to ache. His back stiffened. He regulated his breathing, doing small exercises to distribute the tension. "[Physiological Adjustment: Muscle Stress Redistribution]," Tier 1.5. The discomfort faded to a background hum. These were physical limitations that had to be constantly worked around.

  They stopped when the sun was directly overhead, at a road junction near an old well. Rhen gave Oak water to drink, while Kieran and Mira prepared a simple meal—bread, cheese, and smoked rabbit meat preserved with [Preservation: Inhibition of Bacterial Activity] Tier 2.

  "How much longer?" asked Mira, biting into her bread.

  "At this pace, we will reach the city gates before sunset on the fourth day," answered Kieran, his eyes watching the road ahead. "As long as there are no obstacles."

  "Such as?" asked Rhen, sitting on a stone.

  "Flash floods in the gorge we pass through tomorrow. Bandits—unlikely on this route, but stay alert. Or an unexpected inspection by royal officers." Kieran took a piece of cheese. "[Weather Projection: Short-Pattern Analysis]," Tier 2.5. Data flowed: air pressure stable, humidity rising slowly, no signs of heavy rain in the next two days. "Conditions should be safe."

  Mira observed him. "You always do that, don't you? Double-checking everything."

  "A habit," said Kieran, his voice flat. "In a place where small mistakes mean death, double verification is not paranoia. It is standard procedure."

  "What kind of place?" asked Mira, then appeared to regret it. "Sorry. You don't have to answer."

  Kieran chewed slowly, gazing toward the east. "A place with different rules. There, space can gape open like a wound, time sometimes leaks like water through a cracked filter, and enemies can come from directions that are geometrically impossible." He paused, realizing his description was becoming too technical. "The point is, preparation saves lives. That is all."

  Rhen nodded, understanding more than was said. "All right, let us prepare for the hardest part of today: crossing Stone Bridge. Oak doesn't like heights."

  Stone Bridge turned out to be a narrow structure spanning a deep gorge, with rotting wooden railings on both sides. Oak indeed stopped, sniffing the air with restlessness. Kieran climbed down, approaching the horse.

  "[Animal Calming: Infusion of Tranquility]," he murmured, Tier 1.5. A subtle aura, almost undetectable, enveloped Oak. The horse snorted, then pawed the ground before slowly stepping onto the bridge. Rhen held the reins tightly, speaking in a low and soothing voice.

  From the middle of the bridge, Kieran looked down. The gorge was deep, with a small glittering river at its bottom. In the original timeline, this bridge was destroyed in a small battle between royal forces and a group of monsters that appeared prematurely. Its collapse cut off supplies to Frostpeak for a week, worsening a famine that had already begun to creep in. Now, the bridge was still intact. Its wood creaked, but was sturdy.

  "Did something happen here?" asked Mira, her voice trembling slightly. She also gazed down.

  "Not yet," answered Kieran. That was a dual truth.

  They crossed the bridge without incident. The following days passed with a similar rhythm: waking before dawn, walking until midday, resting, walking again until dusk, then setting up a simple camp. Kieran installed [Intruder Warning: Vibration Sensor Net] Tier 2 around the camp every night, and [Light Blur: Fire Visibility Reduction] Tier 1.5 on their fire.

  On the third night, as they camped at the edge of a small forest, the vibration returned. Kieran woke from his light sleep, feeling it through the ground: three long beats, a pause, two short beats. The same pattern. But now clearer, as though the source was becoming more active or they were drawing closer.

  He sat up, taking the crystal container from his robe. The Starlight Bloom bud glowed faintly, bending at an almost perfect angle toward the east. "[Mana Gradient Measurement: Direction and Intensity Analysis]," he murmured, Tier 3. Raw data flowed—mana concentration in the northeast direction had increased 8% since yesterday. That was significant. Something large was pulling magical energy like a giant magnet.

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  "Can't sleep?" Rhen's voice came softly. He was sitting near the fire that had become embers, keeping watch.

  "The vibration," answered Kieran briefly.

  "I feel it too. Like the heartbeat of a sick earth." Rhen stirred the embers with a stick. "Do you think it is the Heartstone?"

  "Most likely. But a heartbeat is usually regular. This has a pattern. Like… a code." Kieran stared at the fire. "Or perhaps breathing."

  Rhen was silent for a moment. "Woodward said 'do not wake them.' What does it mean if something that is sleeping is breathing?"

  "It means it may be dreaming," said Kieran. "And the dreams of a creature as powerful as that can leak into reality."

  Dawn on the fourth day brought a change in the air. There was a cold hiss that did not come from the wind, and the sky in the east emitted a whitish light that was not the sun. Frostpeak.

  When they climbed the last incline and the city finally spread out in the valley below them, even Kieran fell silent for a moment.

  Frostpeak City was not like the image in his memory full of ruins. Its high stone walls stood firmly, colored by moss and the stubborn traces of spring frost. Watchtowers with blue and silver banners—the emblem of the noble family ruling the city—stood like nails driven into the gray sky. The pointed rooftops of the houses within were covered by a thin layer of snow reflecting weak light. Smoke rose from hundreds of chimneys, marking the normally pulsing life, unaware of the storm of time that would one day destroy it.

  "A stone giant," whispered Mira, her eyes widening.

  "And that is only the outer wall," said Rhen, controlling Oak who had begun to grow restless. "Wait until you smell it. A mixture of horse manure, smoke, toasted bread, and thousands of people living in close quarters."

  Kieran felt something pierce his chest—a bitter and alien nostalgia. He had once stood in almost the same place, three hundred years in the future. Those walls had already collapsed, the towers broken, and the smell filling the air was ash, rot, and failure. This city died long before the Tower fell, emptied by a magical plague that no one understood at the time. Now, it was alive. Breathing.

  "[Emotional Suppressor: Isolation of Affective Response]," he murmured, Tier 3. He felt the magic work, dampening the wave of memories that tried to surge. Not now. Not here. He had to be clear-headed.

  They descended into the valley, joining the increasingly crowded flow of traffic toward the main gate—merchants with carts, farmers with produce, travelers with packs. Sound became a tumult: shouts, the creaking of wheels, the neighing of horses, the blaring of horns from the gate guards.

  The gate of Frostpeak City was a large stone arch with iron-clad wooden doors standing wide open. Two guards dressed in hide-layered robes and carrying spears stood to the side, watching with tired but alert eyes. An officer with a writing board and pen sat at a small table, collecting information.

  When their turn came, the officer looked at them without expression. "Name, origin, purpose, goods."

  Rhen jumped down with the friendly smile he had been practicing. "Rhen Ashford, from Ashvale. Trading in herbs and simple medicines. These are my assistants, Kieran and Mira."

  The officer noted it down. "Independent herbalists, is it? Few come from Ashvale. Usually they pass through Willowridge." His eyes moved to the boxes on the cart. "What are you carrying?"

  "Dried silverleaf, feverfew, willow bark, wound salve, herbal tea, red moss for infections," listed Rhen smoothly. "All from Whispering Woods, collected and processed ourselves."

  "Open one box for random inspection."

  Rhen nodded, opening the nearest box which contained neatly wrapped silverleaf bundles. The officer took one bundle, opened it, smelled the contents, then nodded. "Fine. Entry fee: two silver pieces for the cart and horse, one silver per person. Total five silver. You may stay a maximum of two weeks. More than that requires an extension. Main market is in the River District, don't sell on the street without permission. Cheap inns are in the Eastern District near the gate."

  Rhen paid with the coins they had prepared. The officer gave them a piece of leather inscribed with "Trade Permit – Herbal – 14 Days" and handed over a small wooden plaque to be hung on the cart. "Welcome to Frostpeak. Guard your belongings, avoid excessively dense crowds, and observe the curfew. The tower bell will ring ten times at sunset—after that, residents must be indoors."

  They nodded, then Rhen steered Oak through the gate. The sounds of the city immediately engulfed them like a dense wave.

  Kieran forced his senses not to be overwhelmed. The smell was indeed as Rhen had described—manure, humans, cooking, metal, wet wood—all blending into the scent of a city that was alive and harsh. The sounds of thousands of conversations, creaking wheels, hammering, children shouting, created a symphony of continuous chaos. And light—light reflected from snow-covered rooftops, from glass windows, from the armor of guards moving to and fro.

  But behind all of that, Kieran felt it almost immediately: mana concentration. Not spread evenly like in the forest, but centralized. Like an invisible river current, flowing to somewhere at the city's center. He closed his eyes briefly, focusing. "[Mana Mapping: Passive Nodal Detection]," Tier 3.5. A mental map formed—dim light spread throughout the city (everyday life, some household magic), but one area shone brightly like a mini sun behind a curtain: to the north, likely in the higher area where large buildings stood. The Academy. Or a Noble Manor.

  "Strong," he murmured.

  "What?" asked Mira, who also appeared to be struggling to absorb everything.

  "Magic concentration. Centralized. Seemingly at the Academy." Kieran opened his eyes, adjusting to the crowds. "Rhen, head toward the Eastern District. Let us find an inn as suggested."

  Navigating the streets of Frostpeak was a test of patience. Their cart had to share the cobblestone road with other vehicles, pedestrians crossing haphazardly, and occasional guard patrols walking with measured steps. Rhen drove with a skill that slightly impressed Kieran—he knew when to stop, when to move slowly, when to call out friendly apologies.

  The Eastern District turned out to be an area with two or three-story wooden and stone buildings, packed closely together. The air here smelled sharper—stagnant water, salted fish, and the aromas of cheap inns (stew cooked too long and slightly damp straw). They stopped in front of a building with a hanging sign reading "Straw Cushion Inn." A picture of a straw wreath was painted in faded colors.

  "Let us try here," said Rhen, climbing down.

  Inside, the inn was dark and warm, with a large fireplace at one end of the room where several people sat drinking from clay cups. A middle-aged woman with tightly braided hair and a stained apron stood behind a wooden counter.

  "Looking for a room?" she asked, her voice husky.

  "Yes, for three people. At least a week," said Rhen.

  "One room with three beds or two rooms?"

  Rhen turned to Kieran, who gave a subtle signal with one finger. "One room is enough. We are herbal merchants, we also need a place to store goods."

  The woman raised an eyebrow. "There is a small loft at the back that can be locked. Can be used for storing goods, but not for sleeping—too cold and dusty. The room with the loft is five silver a week, including one simple dinner per person per day. Pay in advance."

  A fair price. Rhen paid, receiving a large iron key. "Number four, upper floor. The horse and cart?"

  "Backyard, there is a simple stable. Add one silver per week for basic feed."

  After settling the arrangements, they carried the important items up to the room. Room number four was small, with three thin straw mattresses on the floor, a small window facing the street, and a wooden wardrobe. The mentioned loft was just an under-roof space accessed through a trapdoor, sufficient for storing their boxes. Kieran immediately conducted a security check. "[Spy Detector: Surveillance Residue Scan]," Tier 2. Nothing. "[Sound Shield: Minimal Acoustic Isolation]," Tier 2, he installed on the room's walls. The city sounds dimmed to a distant murmur.

  "First step done," said Rhen, sitting on his mattress with a groan. "We are officially in Frostpeak."

  "Now for the real part," said Kieran, standing at the window. From here, he could see part of the city's rooftops and, in the distance, the tall towers that were likely the Academy. The mana concentration from there felt like a stable pulse. "We divide tasks tomorrow. Rhen, you go to the River District market, sell some goods, listen for news. Mira and I will walk around, mapping the city, especially the area around that mana concentration."

  "How much should I sell?" asked Rhen.

  "Enough to cover the cost of the inn and food. Do not stand out too much. Offer standard prices, not too cheap or expensive. What we need is a reason to be here and ears in the middle of the crowds."

  Mira drew a breath. "What should I look for while walking around?"

  "Patterns. People who appear different—dressed as scholars, perhaps carrying mana detection instruments. Increased guard activity in certain areas. Shops selling unusual magical materials. And… ground vibrations. Try to feel them with the [Mana Sense] you have trained."

  Mira nodded, her face serious.