Marked by the Four Beast Lords After Transmigration

By the time Nia and Kael left the smoke chamber, the lower preparation terraces no longer sounded the same.

Conversations overlapped across the stone walkways in sharper, more animated bursts while workers argued about storage space, salt quantities, and rack placement with an energy that had not been there earlier that morning. Hunters who had originally stopped only to listen were now discussing winter supply routes near the drying stations, and several gatherers had already started debating how much additional salt storage the mountain could realistically support before the next major trade cycle.

Nia noticed the shift too as she stepped back out into the open terrace sunlight beside Kael. Her gaze moved slowly across the workers nearby while fragments of conversation drifted through the air around them—winter storms, preserved meat, expanded storage rooms, longer travel supplies.

“…They’re really taking this seriously.”

Kael glanced toward her while falling into step beside her along the stone walkway.

“You explained a way to preserve meat through most of winter.”

“I know, but…”

Nia looked back toward the smoke chamber again. Workers were still gathered near the entrance beneath the drifting smoke while several hunters argued over rack spacing, and one of them had already climbed halfway up the inner support beams to inspect the upper vents more carefully.

“I didn’t expect everyone to start reorganizing things this fast.”

Kael looked unsurprised.

“We preserve food to survive winter.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“It’s still the answer.”

Nia stared at him for half a second before one corner of her mouth twitched faintly.

“…That’s honestly refreshing.”

Kael nearly snorted.

She still underestimated how quickly useful information moved through the mountain.

Especially information connected to food.

A pair of hunters passed them carrying fresh carcasses toward the lower preparation tables. One of them slowed briefly while looking toward Kael.

“Chief.”

Kael grunted acknowledgment.

The hunter’s attention shifted toward Nia afterward, curiosity still visible beneath his expression now.

“Is it true preserved meat can really last through most of winter?”

Word traveled fast.

Nia blinked once before nodding carefully.

“If it’s prepared properly and kept dry, yes.”

The hunter stared at her for a moment longer before glancing back toward the smoke chamber uphill.

“…Spirits.”

Then both hunters continued downhill again, speaking to each other in lower voices afterward.

Nia watched them leave before looking back toward Kael.

“That spread fast.”

“You explained it in the middle of a crowded work terrace.”

“I know, but I thought maybe people would wait until I was gone before discussing it.”

Kael looked toward her flatly.

“Why.”

“…Fair point.”

The wind shifted harder across the terraces then, carrying another wave of smoke and mountain air between the stone walkways while workers moved steadily through the preparation district below. Somewhere farther uphill, metal struck stone rhythmically from one of the construction terraces while voices echoed faintly between the mountain walls.

They continued farther along the lower terraces while the preparation district gradually shifted around them from storage spaces into heavier processing areas. Larger stone tables appeared farther downhill beside hide racks and cutting stations while the scent of blood, smoke, and salt thickened steadily through the air.

Nia’s pace slowed again almost immediately.

Kael noticed the exact moment her attention locked onto the large woven baskets stacked beside one of the lower workstations.

Pale crystal chunks filled each basket nearly to the rim.

Of course.

“You stopped walking,” Kael observed.

Nia pointed toward the baskets.

“What’s that?”

“Salt.”

Her expression sharpened with focused interest while she moved toward the baskets and crouched beside one, lifting a pale crystal carefully into both hands.

“This is all your storage?”

“Part of it,” one of the nearby workers answered while using a stone hammer to break larger chunks into smaller pieces beside the baskets.

Nia rotated the crystal slowly through the sunlight while studying the texture and color.

“Where do you get it?”

“Trade mostly.”

“Some extraction farther east,” another worker added without looking up from his sorting table.

Nia’s attention sharpened further.

“You have salt rivers?”

“Salt flats,” Kael corrected.

“Oh.”

That somehow seemed to interest her even more.

Kael watched her turn the crystal again between her fingers while calculations visibly moved behind her eyes.

“You’re thinking again.”

“I’m always thinking.”

“That explains a lot.”

Nia ignored him completely.

The salt worker looked between both of them uncertainly before focusing back on Nia instead.

“Something wrong with the salt?”

“No,” Nia answered absently. “Actually this is cleaner than I expected.”

The worker looked relieved.

Then suspicious.

“What does that mean.”

Nia finally glanced up again.

“It means your preservation potential is probably even higher than I thought.”

The worker froze.

Kael closed his eyes briefly.

Of course.

Nia noticed.

“What.”

“You said ‘preservation potential’ out loud.”

“I haven’t even explained anything yet.”

“That has never stopped people from listening before.”

Three nearby workers had already started paying attention openly, and one of them had fully abandoned sorting his crate of roots in favor of listening to the conversation instead.

Nia noticed too.

“…Why are all of you like this.”

“Like what?” the salt worker asked.

“You hear one interesting sentence and immediately stop working.”

“That sentence involved more food preservation.”

“That is work.”

“Important work,” another worker added from farther down the table.

Nia looked faintly exasperated now.

Kael was enjoying this much more than he probably should have been.

Nia pointed vaguely toward the baskets.

“Fine. Cleaner salt extracts moisture more consistently and slows spoilage more effectively.”

One of the workers frowned thoughtfully.

“So poor-quality salt weakens preservation.”

“Yes.”

Nia nodded while crouching beside the baskets again.

“Impurities change consistency. Some batches preserve properly while others fail faster.”

The salt worker scratched his jaw slowly.

“That explains some winter losses.”

Nia pointed toward him.

“Exactly.”

The conversation shifted after that as several workers began discussing storage methods among themselves while looking back toward the salt baskets with noticeably different expressions than before. Preservation was no longer being treated as simple kitchen labor.

Nia noticed the shift too.

He saw it in the way her posture tightened slightly before easing again while she rubbed lingering salt dust absently from her fingertips. Her attention drifted briefly uphill toward the smoke chamber where workers were still discussing vent placement beneath the drifting smoke.

“I don’t mind helping,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter now and more honest than before. “I just don’t want people treating me strangely.”

Kael studied her for several seconds before answering.

“They already treat you strangely.”

Nia looked horrified.

“That’s not comforting.”

“You’re a rare female who appeared alone in the mountains and started improving preservation systems within days.”

“…When you phrase it like that, I sound suspicious.”

“You are suspicious.”

Nia stared at him.

Kael held her gaze calmly.

Then one corner of her mouth twitched before she looked away again, unsuccessfully hiding the beginning of reluctant amusement.

The uncertainty lingering beneath her earlier excitement eased enough afterward that some of the tension in Kael’s chest finally loosened with it.

A sudden shout echoed from farther uphill, cutting across the layered noise of the preparation terraces.

“Chief!”

Kael turned toward the upper walkway where one of the patrol runners was already moving quickly down the stone path toward them. The younger wolf beastman was breathing hard enough that even Nia straightened beside the salt baskets as he approached, urgency written clearly across his posture long before he reached them.

Kael’s own posture shifted in response.

Something was wrong.

The runner finally reached the lower terrace and stopped several feet away before lowering his head briefly toward Kael.

“Trade scouts returned early.”

Kael frowned slightly.

Too early.

The runner swallowed once before continuing.

“They brought northern merchants.”

Nia blinked beside him.

Kael’s eyes narrowed immediately.

Northern merchants arriving before winter trade season usually meant one thing.

Something had gone wrong somewhere.

The preparation terrace seemed to notice the shift in Kael’s expression almost at once. Nearby conversations lowered while several hunters farther downhill slowed near the cutting tables, their attention drifting toward the patrol runner without openly staring.

Nia noticed it too.

The entire mountain paid attention to Kael’s reactions whether they meant to or not.

“What happened?” Kael asked.

The runner shook his head once.

“Scouts weren’t given full details. The merchants requested direct audience first.”

Kael’s jaw tightened faintly.

Northern merchants did not travel this early unless circumstances forced them to, and merchants almost never abandoned profit schedules voluntarily.

Which suggested urgency, desperation, or some combination of both.

“How many.”

“Six merchants. Four guards. Two wagons.”

The number immediately felt wrong. Seasonal trade groups traveled larger than that, especially this close to winter, and Kael's attention sharpened further as the implications settled into place.

Nia looked between both of them quietly before asking,

“That’s bad?”

Kael glanced toward her briefly.

“Northern routes close earliest during heavy winter.”

“And it’s too early for that.”

“Yes.”

The runner shifted slightly before adding,

“Scouts said they pushed through the Frostpass roads before the second snowfall blocked the upper ridges.”

Several nearby workers exchanged uneasy looks after hearing that.

Too early.

Again.

Nia’s expression shifted slightly after that while she processed the timing against everything else she had already learned about the mountain’s trade cycles.

Kael noticed the change in her face.

“Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re about to.”

Nia looked offended by the accusation despite the fact that she was very obviously already organizing thoughts inside her head.

The runner looked between both of them with increasing confusion.

Kael ignored him.

“What are you thinking.”

Nia hesitated briefly before answering more carefully this time.

“Weather shifts affecting trade timing usually make it harder for people to get things they rely on.”

Kael folded his arms across his chest while studying her expression more closely.

“You think people are going to have trouble getting supplies.”

“I think early winter patterns affecting major trade routes is probably not a good sign.”

The salt worker muttered something under his breath that sounded deeply unfriendly toward the weather.

One of the hunters farther downhill spoke next without looking up from the carcass he was cutting apart.

“Northern traders usually bring oils and cold-weather pelts first.”

Another worker added,

“Medicinal roots too.”

Nia glanced toward them.

“How dependent are you on trade during winter?”

Several people looked at her like the answer should have been obvious.

Kael answered anyway.

“Enough.”

Nia’s brow furrowed slightly while she turned the information over in her head.

The runner continued carefully,

“Scouts said the merchants asked about food prices before they even reached the outer gates.”

The terrace quieted after that.

Food questions before trade negotiations usually meant people farther north were having trouble getting enough to eat.

Nia understood the implication quickly.

Kael saw it settle across her expression.

“…Oh,” she said softly.

The wind shifted harder across the terraces then, carrying smoke through the preparation district while the late afternoon sunlight stretched longer shadows across the stone walkways. Workers had stopped pretending not to listen by now. Even those still moving through tasks nearby were paying attention openly.

Because trade problems became territory problems very quickly.

Kael looked toward the runner again.

“Where are they.”

“Outer reception hall.”

“Council notified?”

“Yes.”

Kael nodded once before looking toward Nia.

Her attention had gone distant again while she layered information together faster than most people around her could follow.

Then her gaze drifted back toward the salt baskets.

Kael sighed.

“There it is.”

Nia blinked.

“What.”

“You connected something.”

“I might have connected several things.”

The nearby salt worker looked increasingly nervous every time she said sentences like that now.

Nia rubbed salt dust absently from her fingertips again before speaking slowly.

“If northern routes are becoming unstable earlier than expected…”

Her gaze drifted briefly back toward the smoke chamber uphill.

“Then preserving as much food as possible before the heavier snows arrive becomes more important.”

The suggestion settled across the terrace differently than the conversations before it. No one reacted with panic, but several workers looked back toward the smoke chamber with renewed focus instead.

Kael studied Nia quietly until she noticed.

“What.”

“You think in disasters.”

“I think in preparation.”

Nia glanced uphill again toward the smoke chamber where workers were still reorganizing racks beneath drifting smoke.

“…You should probably accelerate that project.”

The runner looked toward Kael after she said it, not because Nia held authority inside the territory yet, but because everyone nearby had already started measuring her ideas against Kael’s reactions.

Kael noticed that too.

And judging from the slight uncertainty entering Nia’s posture again, she noticed it as well.

Careful now.

The mountain was starting to listen more closely whenever she spoke than either of them had anticipated.

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