Shane exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders finally easing now that the canyon lay behind them.
The land ahead opened into a wide stretch of rocky barrens—uneven ground littered with pale stones and cracked earth. Sparse, stubborn trees clung to life here and there, their twisted branches reaching toward the sky like they were reconsidering the effort.
He reached down and rested a firm hand on Molly's armored hide.
"That'll do," he murmured.
The golden sheen faded like dying embers. Plates of light dissolved back into thick white skin, spikes retracting until Molly was once again just a massive rhinoceros snorting contentedly, clearly pleased to be done with fighting.
She started shaking herself hard enough to make the wagon rattle.
Ulon grabbed the rail.
"Easy, girl! You trying to redecorate again?"
Molly ignored him.
"Ulon," Shane said without raising his voice, already thinking several steps ahead. "Please check the map. See if there's a safe area to rest nearby. We also need to inspect the wagon."
"Copy, boss," Ulon replied far louder than necessary.
He leaned back, rummaged through the box behind the driver's bench, and pulled out a folded map nearly as wide as his torso. He spread it over his knee, squinting exaggeratedly, turning it upside down once before correcting himself.
Before he could comment, a deep roar echoed from inside the canyon.
RRROOOAAARRR!!!!
The sound rolled like thunder trapped between stone walls.
Kiel jolted upright on the wagon roof, eyes shining.
"What was that?" he asked, half rising to his feet. "Can we go back and check it, boss?"
Klaus, lying beside him with his hands behind his head, turned just enough to look at him. He shook his head slowly, disbelief written plainly across his face.
Shane didn't even hesitate.
"That was likely a higher-level monster investigating the commotion," he said evenly. "And no. We're not going back. That canyon is an endless trap."
Kiel frowned, legs swinging over the edge.
"Then why build a road there if it's dangerous to travel?"
Shane's eyes stayed on the horizon.
"That road wasn't built by men," he said. "It was built for men."
Kiel blinked.
"…What does that mean, boss?"
"What a knucklehead," Klaus muttered.
Ulon snorted, slapping the map with a thick finger.
"Boss, make it simpler next time. His little brain can't process riddles."
Shane sighed, patient.
"Have you noticed the unusual width of the route," he asked, "and why so few caravans use it despite it being the shortest path between Pedleton and the Kingdom of Varkesh?"
Ulon glanced up at the wagon roof.
Kiel had gone quiet, staring at the canyon behind them, brow furrowed so hard it looked painful.
"…Looks like he doesn't know, boss," Ulon said cheerfully.
"This road is a trap," Shane continued. "An endless one. Countless beasts are drawn to it."
Ulon nodded slowly, eyes tracing the map.
"That makes sense. The canyon alone sits between the Barren land of Aegulus, the Great Desert of Khal'gur, and the Mistvine Forest. Three monster territories overlap. Once blood is spilled, countless beasts will be drawn."
Kiel's eyes widened.
"Then who built the road?"
"There are plenty of tales," Ulon said, warming to the subject. "The famous one says the Goblin King made it to lure travelers into his hunting ground. Another claims it was a gift from the Golem Archon of Mistvine Forest to the first king of Kollus."
He folded the map with a snap.
"Either way, the road's older than the Empire itself."
Kiel sucked in a breath.
"That was… five hundred years ago."
"Exactly," Shane said. "And no matter what the Empire tried, they couldn't secure it. They even built a fortress once."
Petra shifted uneasily at the word fortress, fingers tightening on her scythe.
"It lasted a month," Shane continued. "Then it was annihilated—no one survived the onslaught. With beasts lurking endlessly around, no one's tried again."
Kiel was quiet for a moment. Then—
"Boss," he said carefully, "since the canyon has so many monsters… wouldn't it be a great place to level up?"
Maddy groaned audibly from inside the wagon.
"We could camp there for a month or two," Kiel pressed on, warming to his idea. "The monkeys barely gave any experience. The loot was horrible."
Ulon burst out laughing.
"That idea is bold and stupid at the same time, kid. I like that."
Shane shook his head.
"No. We might only lasted two weeks at most. Keepers tried, but even they have limits. Most can only last a month in that canyon before being overwhelmed."
He paused.
"Only one person ever lasted three."
Kiel asked, his eyes full of curiosity, "Who?"
"Eason Leonhart," Shane said without hesitation.
Klaus's half-lidded eyes opened a fraction. Just enough.
"The Duke of Brakensow?" he murmured. "I never thought he was… formidable."
Shane didn't look up. His hands stayed steady on the reins as the wagon rattled across loose stone.
"He's not just formidable," he said. "He's unpredictable. The only man in his era who held both power and influence—and knew when to let go of either."
Klaus let out a quiet hum, amused. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"I want to meet him."
"Me too!" Kiel blurted instantly, nearly slipping as the wagon hit a bump. He caught himself with an awkward flail and laughed it off.
Shane shook his head.
"Too bad. He's retired. Passed his title to his granddaughter—Duchess Lillas Leonhart."
The smile vanished from Klaus's face as quickly as it came.
"…Shame."
Kiel nodded slowly, solemn, as if mourning a legendary weapon he'd never get to wield.
A moment of silence followed, broken only by the creak of the wagon and the wind scraping across the barren land. Jagged stone formations rose ahead, their shadows stretching long and crooked across the ground.
Ulon squinted at the map, then jabbed a thick finger forward.
"Boss. If this thing's not lying to me, there's an open space ahead. Behind that rock formation."
Shane nodded.
"That's a merchant's map. Every marked spot is somewhere wagons survived long enough to rest."
Maddy leaned out from the wagon, arms crossed.
"That's not reassuring."
Before they passed the stone formation, Klaus's gaze drifted sideways. His posture didn't change, but his attention sharpened.
"There's a group ahead," he said casually. "At least a dozen."
Shane stiffened slightly.
"Armed?"
Klaus tilted his head.
"Of course. We're in the middle of nowhere. Anyone not armed would already be dead."
Shane exhaled through his nose.
"…Are they setting up an ambush?"
"No."
Shane relaxed just a fraction.
"Then there's nothing to worry about."
As they cleared the rock formation, the open field revealed itself—not vast, but wide enough to host several caravans. Four wagons sat unevenly across the clearing, their sides gouged and splattered with dried blood. Wheels were cracked. Canvas torn. But they were still standing.
The people near them reacted instantly.
Weapons came up. Spears leveled. Blades drawn.
Women pulled frightened children close, bodies tense and defensive. Their features were distinct—darker complexions baked by the sun, eyes the color of sandstorms, hair red as dried blood beneath the light.
Shalotte sucked in a sharp breath and immediately tripped over nothing, barely catching himself on the wagon's railing.
"S-Sorry—!"
Petra stepped closer to him without thinking, gripping her scythe tighter. Her voice was quiet but firm.
"They're scared."
Klaus's eyes narrowed slightly.
"They are…"
"Your people," Ulon finished with a grin.
Klaus glanced at him flatly.
"…Careful."
Shane cut in before Ulon could dig himself deeper.
"Enough teasing. Those are Kultians."
He turned to Ulon.
"Take the reins. I'll talk to them. Don't do anything rash."
Ulon saluted exaggeratedly.
"No promises."
Shane dismounted, boots crunching against stone as he approached the group slowly, hands visible, posture calm and deliberate.
Behind him, Kiel whispered loudly,
"They look tough."
"They look desperate," Maddy corrected, worry etched into her face.
Klaus leaned back against the wagon frame.
"Kultians," he mused. "Men of the desert from Varkesh, right?"
Ulon nodded.
"If they're this far out, it only means one thing."
"Refuge," Petra said softly.
Maddy frowned.
"But why?"
Ulon's grin faded a notch.
"Varkesh is never peaceful. The Kultians get the worst of it. Other tribes call them sick—curse-blooded."
Shalotte swallowed.
"That's horrible…"
"Some believe they spread the Red Plague centuries ago," Ulon continued. "There are reports of them being hunted by their own kin."
Maddy's jaw tightened.
"That's discrimination."
Ulon shook his head.
"No. That's paranoia."