Bloodline Plant Lord: Rise of the World Sovereign

The Furnace Road — the passage.

Kaelen stepped off the Road and into the passage.

Canyon light reached along the floor and lower walls for a few strides. He walked beyond it with his blade in his right hand and his left against the stone, testing the ground before committing his weight.

The heat eased as he went. Air still carried warmth from the canyon, but it no longer pressed through the cloth across his face. He loosened the wrapping at his mouth.

His count continued. He had carried it through the surges and the gaps between them, adjusting when the intervals shortened. Now it ran through darkness where the walls should have begun to brighten. At the point when he expected heat, he stopped and raised the cloth again.

Nothing came.

He waited with his hand against the wall. The stone felt cool beneath his palm. He counted through another interval, listening, but heard only his own breathing and a faint sound from the canyon behind him.

He lowered the cloth and started forward.

The passage remained level. He slid each boot ahead before setting it down, keeping his left hand along the wall. His fingers found shallow tool marks in the otherwise smooth surface. None led to an opening.

Once, his forearm brushed the stone hard enough to catch the wrapping. He stopped, eased his sleeve back, and checked beneath the loosened cloth. The same hard patch lay under his fingertips. He wound the binding back into place and drew his sleeve over it.

Farther in, even the distant sound of the furnace faded. He could hear the scuff of his soles and the kit strap creaking at his shoulder. When he paused, those sounds stopped with him.

He found himself thinking of the Terrace table, where Yuelan could keep an argument going while everyone else tried to finish dinner. He could almost hear her objecting to something from the far end.

His boot met a shallow joint in the floor. He tested the stone beyond it, found it firm, and stepped across.

The count in his head had fallen into time with his footsteps. He let it run while he followed the wall.

Sovereign Dawn — the Terrace.

Yuelan was arguing with Cassian about the arena notice.

His face filled the slate propped against the fruit bowl. She had laid the notice beside her plate and kept pointing at the same paragraph, though he could not see it from there.

”They should have put that at the top,” she said.

”It’s under seeding.”

”Halfway down.”

”Where you would look for the seeding rules.”

She picked up the notice and held it toward the slate. ”In writing this small.”

”I read it.”

”You read everything.” ℴ

Vesper turned a page in her notebook between bites. Eira passed the rice toward Yuelan, who set the notice aside long enough to take some.

Three of the usual places were empty because of the evening at the lower market. Yuelan had asked for something fried to be brought back and had received no promise. She had repeated the request anyway before the three left.

Yueying arrived with a classmate from the history tower. The girl stopped beside her, looking around for somewhere to sit.

”Here,” Yuelan said, reaching for the nearest chair.

It was Kaelen’s.

Her fingers closed around its back, but she did not pull it out. After a moment, she let go and fetched a spare from the next table. Its feet scraped over the floor as she brought it beside Yueying’s place.

Eira moved the serving dish to make room.

Yueying introduced her classmate while pouring tea. Cassian asked what she was studying, and the girl leaned toward the slate to answer. Yuelan resumed eating, leaving the arena notice beneath her plate.

No word had come for them about the Road. Whatever the Guild had to report would go to the house first.

Vesper glanced toward the empty place before closing her notebook. She moved the fruit bowl so the visitor could see Cassian more easily.

Kaelen’s chair remained pushed in beside the table.

The Furnace Road — the chamber.

The wall turned away beneath his hand, and his next step sounded into a larger space.

Kaelen stopped at the corner.

A thin red line showed ahead. As his eyes adjusted, he made out stone around it and the floor leading across the chamber. He checked to either side before approaching.

The light came from a slot at waist height, cut into the rock like the openings in the booths. Beside it stood a recessed slab. Light from the slot reached a short inscription above its mouth.

He leaned close to read it.

Surrender the writ. The final stretch lies beyond.

Kaelen read it again, then took the paper from beneath his coat.

The folds had softened. At one corner, the crease from his grip remained where the edge had pressed into his skin on the way to the fourth booth. He straightened it with his thumb and held the writ near the light.

Five burned marks showed in the corner. Below them lay the instruction he had carried out at the last gate.

He turned the paper over. There was nothing more on the back.

At every booth, he had waited beside the slot until the writ came out. He had caught it while heat worked through his clothes, checked the marks, and folded it back beneath his coat. Here the instruction told him to give it up.

He brought its edge to the opening.

’I said I’d catch up.’

The slot took the writ as he fed it forward. Paper slipped from his fingertips and disappeared into the stone.

He waited with his hand raised. The red light held steady, but the writ did not return.

A scrape came from beside him. The slab withdrew, and furnace light spread across the chamber floor. Kaelen pulled the wrapping over his face as warmth reached him through the opening.

The Road continued beyond it, a narrow strip between canyon walls. He stayed back from the threshold and watched the glow deepen. Heat swept past outside, held, then eased as the walls dimmed.

He counted the gap that followed. When the next surge came, he marked where it fell in the count and began again. The rhythm was familiar enough to follow, but he waited for another cycle before choosing his moment.

Across the first exposed stretch, a recess lay in the canyon wall. He studied the ground between it and the chamber, picking out where the path narrowed. He could reach it within the gap he had just measured.

There was no booth in sight. The writ was gone, and the instruction above the slot had given him the final stretch to complete.

He settled the kit against his shoulder and closed his right hand around the blade. His left went inside his coat before he caught the movement. Where the folded paper had rested, he felt only the lining.

Kaelen withdrew his hand and faced the recess across the exposed ground.

When the next gap came, he stepped into the furnace light.