Novel Full Chapter 186: So close, yet so far
Chapter 186: So close, yet so far
On the walk back to Veyrhold, the storm-silver tubes packed carefully in insulated cases, Rohan opened the detailed rank view.
[Rank: 34]
[Progress to Rank 35: 91%]
He almost stumbled.
Liora noticed.
"Panel?"
"Yes."
"Good or bad?"
"Annoying."
"That usually means good."
"I’m close to Rank 35."
She looked impressed despite herself.
"That quickly?"
"I’ve been hunting constantly."
"You’ve been surviving constantly. There is a difference."
"Survival counts."
"Not always."
Rohan glanced at her.
Liora’s face was turned toward the distant walls of Veyrhold. The wind tugged at her scarf, and ash clicked softly against her leg brace.
"You’ve been here four months," she said. "Most outsiders would be dead."
"I thought there were no outsiders."
"There are merchants."
"They don’t count."
"No," she said, voice colder. "They don’t."
For a while, they walked in silence.
Then she said, "People trust you more now."
"Some people."
"More than before."
"That’s not hard. Before, I was one bad sentence away from being shot."
"You are still occasionally one bad sentence away from being hit."
"By who?"
"Me."
"Good to know."
Her mouth twitched.
Then she grew serious again.
"You are still not shipblood."
"I know."
"Some will never forget that."
"I know that too."
"But you came back for people who weren’t yours. You work. You hunt. You take ugly tasks without complaining too much."
"Too much?"
"You complain constantly."
"Accurate."
"But you still do them."
Rohan looked ahead.
Veyrhold’s walls were visible now, dark and uneven beneath the violet sky. Smoke rose from within.
Silver lenses glimmered along the battlements. Somewhere behind those walls, Pell was probably trying to convince someone that fungus cakes were spear targets, Bryan was likely arguing trade tallies with anyone foolish enough to sit near him, and Maerin was already preparing the next difficult thing she would phrase as an order rather than a request.
Four months ago, the sight of those walls had meant only shelter.
Now it meant something more complicated.
Not home.
He would not call it home.
Home was Earth. Home was his family, his old life, the world that existed before awakening ceremonies, Origin Realms, Hestia, and ash planets with exploited crash descendants. Even Erenhot, dangerous as it was, felt closer to home than Veyrhold did, because it belonged to the system of reality he had started from.
But Veyrhold had become a place with names.
That was dangerous in its own way.
Places with names were harder to leave behind.
People with names were worse.
The gate opened when they approached. The guards called down greetings, not warm exactly, but familiar. One shouted something about Jorren’s shield smoking again. Jorren lifted the shield in silent reply.
Inside, the settlement smelled of heat, oil, stew, ash paste, and people.
Rohan helped unload the storm-silver at the trade store. Bryan was there, as usual, sitting behind a table with ledgers spread around him like defensive walls. His injured arm rested in a brace, but his good hand moved quickly over tally marks.
When he saw the sealed tubes, his brows rose.
"Good harvest."
"Stormlings," Liora said.
"Bad harvest."
"Good value."
"Bad harvest."
Rohan set his share tube on the table.
Bryan weighed it carefully, then looked at him.
"You selling to Veyrhold credit or holding for external value?"
"External."
Bryan sighed.
"You keep doing that."
"I keep wanting to leave the planet."
"And yet you keep eating our stew."
"I can do both."
"You can try."
Bryan marked the ledger.
"External reserve, then. Your total becomes less pathetic."
Rohan leaned over the table.
"How much less pathetic?"
"Still pathetic."
"Encouraging."
"But no longer laughable."
"That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me."
"Do not grow used to it."
A panel flickered.
[Quest Progress: Learn the Price of Passage]
[Resource Reserve Increased]
[Progress: 3/5]
Still three out of five.
Rohan suppressed a groan.
Bryan noticed anyway.
"System bothering you?"
"Yes."
"Good. Means it hasn’t given up."
"Is that how that works?"
"No idea."
Rohan narrowed his eyes.
Bryan smiled faintly.
"I enjoy sounding wise."
"Very old of you."
"I am not old."
"You make ledger noises when you sit down."
Bryan’s smile vanished.
Liora laughed.
That evening, after the storm-silver was stored and the hunt reports filed, Maerin summoned Rohan
to the ash-house inner chamber.
He found her standing before the map.
Four months had added details to the map in his mind that ink alone could not show. He knew the southern marker line now. The cinderback vents. The skarn pocket where he had first found Liora.
The northern shelves where storm-silver grew in dangerous threads. The western route no one used unless forced.
Maerin pointed to an area east of Veyrhold.
A flat region marked with old ship symbols.
"The merchant flats," Rohan said.
"Yes."
"The Gilded Heron lands there."
"Its shuttles do."
He stepped closer.
The region was not far compared to the distances he had crossed on hunts, but the map marked it with several danger signs.
"Why are you showing me this?"
"Because you keep asking about passage."
"I do."
"And because in three months, the Gilded Heron returns."
"Seven months from my arrival. I remember."
Maerin nodded.
"Before it comes, Veyrhold sends trade teams to gather high-value stores from restricted sites. Storm-silver. Deep blackstone. Furnace salts. Skarn cores if we can take nests safely."
"That sounds dangerous."
"It is."
"And profitable."
"Yes."
Rohan looked at her.
"You’re inviting me?"
"I am informing you that your name has been proposed for an eastward resource expedition."
That surprised him.
"By who?"
"Bryan."
"That makes sense."
"And Jorren."
"That makes less sense."
"And Liora."
"That makes it suspicious."
"And me."
Rohan stopped.
Maerin still faced the map.
"You trust me that much?"
"No."
"Ah."
"I trust you enough to be useful where I can see you."
"That sounds more like you."
She finally looked at him.
"You have grown stronger. You learn quickly. You listen when danger is explained, after arguing. You have ash-working that may prove valuable in restricted zones. And you are desperate enough to take ugly risks for external value."
"That last one sounds like a flaw."
"It is. It is also why you may accept."