Marked by the Four Beast Lords After Transmigration

The third batch rested beneath cloth while Nia adjusted the flour ratios for the next attempt.

The kitchen had grown steadily warmer over the course of the morning, enough that the colder mountain air drifting through the upper ventilation cuts no longer bit sharply against her skin whenever the draft shifted. Firelight moved unevenly across the stone counters while the scent of toasted grain lingered thick through the room, settling into the warmer air gathering near the cooking stones. Beyond the widened kitchen archway, the rest of the mountain had fully awakened.

Nia pressed another portion of dough flatter against the board while Shen sorted the remaining flour into separate bowls beside her.

Somewhere between the second and third test, he had quietly reorganized the grind grades by use instead of texture alone. The finer flour now remained closer to her dominant hand while the coarser meal stayed farther back beside the grain sack, reducing the number of times she needed to reach awkwardly across the counter while working.

“You changed the layout,” she said while flattening the dough more carefully.

“The finer flour stayed closer to your right hand every time you reached for it,” Shen replied while brushing excess grain from his fingertips. “This wastes fewer movements.”

Her hands paused briefly against the dough before continuing.

The adjustment genuinely helped. Less reaching kept the rhythm of the work smoother, and smoother movement made it easier to judge how the dough was actually responding beneath her hands instead of constantly interrupting herself midway through each attempt.

Kael looked up from beside the cooking stones. “You reorganized her kitchen.”

“It’s temporary,” Shen answered.

“That is how it starts.”

Nia narrowed her eyes toward both of them without looking away from the dough. “Nobody is reorganizing anything.”

Neither male answered immediately.

Unfortunately, the separated herb bundles hanging by airflow category, the repositioned bowls, and the newly efficient counter layout surrounding her made the statement considerably less convincing than she wanted.

The dough beneath her hands stretched farther now before cracking. Not enough for delicate breads yet, but enough that she could finally feel the process stabilizing instead of resisting every adjustment she made.

“If the flour softens this much after only two additional passes,” Shen said while studying one of the finer bowls, “then the mountain loses a large amount of usable texture during normal grinding.”

Nia nodded once. “Most people probably stop after the first pass.”

“The first pass is faster.”

“And stores better through winter.” She added another small amount of water to the dough. “Finer flour becomes harder to preserve safely once moisture gets into it.”

Kael shifted another heating stone slightly farther from the center fire. “So the current method survives longer.”

“Probably.”

Shen glanced toward the storage corridors. “The lower grain rooms stay cooler than the upper shelves.”

Nia’s attention caught on that immediately before she stopped herself from following the thought farther.

She was not redesigning storage systems before lunch simply because someone mentioned temperature differences near the grain shelves.

Nia looked directly toward Shen. “You need to stop giving me information in that tone.”

He blinked once. “What tone?”

“The one that creates additional projects.”

Kael’s shoulders shifted slightly with restrained amusement near the fire.

“We’re discussing flour,” he said.

“You’re discussing flour in a way that leads directly into me reorganizing half the storage system.”

“That sounds accurate.”

Nia flattened the dough harder than necessary before exhaling slowly through her nose.

The latest flatbread cooked more evenly after Kael adjusted the stone placement again. The surface still browned irregularly in places, but the dough no longer split apart during the turn.

Kael held out his hand.

Nia stared at him. “You’re assuming success before testing.”

“You keep making the same adjustments.”

“That is called process refinement.”

“It smells ready.”

“It is not ready simply because you want to eat it.”

She handed him the first piece anyway because experience had already demonstrated that refusing only delayed the inevitable theft by several seconds.

Kael tore the bread in half this time instead of swallowing it whole, passing part toward Shen before testing the texture himself.

“Less grit,” he said after chewing.

Shen nodded slightly beside him. “The inside holds together more evenly.”

Nia broke apart the remaining piece while studying the interior herself. The coarse texture still remained, but the structure no longer crumbled unpredictably after cooling.

That alone made her want to continue refining it.

Kael noticed the direction of her attention almost immediately. “You’re not stopping now.”

“It’s cooperating now.”

The dough smoothed more easily beneath her fingers after another careful adjustment, and she let herself enjoy the simple relief of ingredients finally behaving the way she wanted them to.

Shen pushed one of the smaller bowls closer before she reached for it.

Nia glanced briefly toward him. “Thank you.”

“You were reaching awkwardly.”

Outside the kitchen entrance, another worker slowed while crossing the main chamber. The smell of fresh bread had spread farther through the settlement than she realized.

Nia caught one of the younger storage workers staring openly toward the cooling flatbread before hurrying onward once he noticed her watching him.

Kael noticed too. “They’re going to start hovering.”

“That is not encouraging.”

“You’re making warm bread inside a mountain settlement before winter.”

Nia looked back toward the archway. “It’s just bread.”

Kael glanced toward the cooling stack. “It doesn’t smell like ‘just bread’ to them.”

She rolled her eyes and flattened the next round more carefully.

“The surface bubbles differently now,” Shen observed from beside the counter.

Nia looked toward the bread.

He was right.

The bubbles spread more evenly instead of forcing steam toward isolated weak points in the dough. She rubbed one flour-covered hand slowly across her forehead while mentally retracing the last several adjustments she had made.

“You noticed it,” Kael said.

“Eventually.”

The latest bread cooked slower, steadier, and softer than the earlier batches. When she finally turned it, the surface browned evenly enough that Kael’s attention sharpened briefly toward the bread before shifting back toward her face.

“That one looks different,” he said.

“It is different.” Nia kept her attention on the cooking surface. “I need to remember exactly what changed before the dough starts fighting me again tomorrow.”

By now Kael seemed to understand that half her enjoyment came from the process itself rather than simply eating the final result. Reaching the point where ingredients finally cooperated carried its own satisfaction.

Nia stepped back from the counter before habit dragged her toward another bowl.

The bread worked now. Not perfectly yet, but well enough that she no longer had to wrestle every batch into something edible.

Kael noticed her retreat immediately. “You’re stopping.”

“For today.”

“You sound unconvinced.”

“Because I know exactly what happens if I keep standing near the flour.”

Meanwhile Shen covered the remaining bowls with cloth, protecting the finer grind from the warmer air near the cooking stones.

Nia watched the movement for a second before understanding the reason behind it. “Oh. That’s smart.”

“The texture changed after sitting exposed near the fire.”

Another entire line of thought immediately tried dragging her back toward the counter again.

Nia pressed both flour-covered hands briefly against her face before lowering them. “You need to stop helping me think too much.”

“I sorted bowls.”

“You sorted bowls in a useful way.”

Kael took one of the finished flatbreads from the cooling cloth. “You should leave the kitchen before you start another batch.”

Nia narrowed her eyes toward him, then toward the flour bowls, before finally exhaling because he was completely right in the most irritating way possible.

“I dislike both of you today.”

“You made good bread,” Kael replied while tearing off another piece. “Your complaints have no weight.”

Shen handed her a damp cloth. “Your hands are cracking.”

Nia finally looked down once he mentioned it. Fine white grain dust had settled deeply into the creases of her fingers, and the skin near her knuckles already felt tight from repeated washing and handling dry flour throughout the morning. She rubbed at one thumb with visible annoyance before taking the cloth from him properly.

Outside the kitchen, several workers passing the entrance still glanced openly toward the lingering smell of toasted grain.

One older tribe woman slowed near the archway long enough to stare directly toward the flatbread in Kael’s hand.

Nia noticed.

The woman noticed Nia noticing.

Then both of them looked toward Kael, who calmly tore off another piece and ate it directly in front of them.

The woman’s expression tightened slightly.

Nia nearly laughed.

“See?” Kael said after swallowing. “Hovering.”

“That was your fault.”

“I’m aware.”

The older woman muttered under her breath while turning back toward the main corridors, though her attention drifted once more toward the cooling bread before she disappeared into the heavier movement of the settlement beyond the kitchen.

Shen watched her leave. “Someone will ask eventually.”

“They can ask Kael.”

Kael looked toward her.

Nia met the look evenly. “You started this by walking around eating warm bread in public.”

“It smelled good.”

“That is still not a defense.”

“It worked well enough this morning.”

Nia opened her mouth to argue before realizing the logic actually held together irritatingly well.

She exhaled softly before turning fully away from the counter. “I’m leaving before I touch the flour again.”

Kael straightened slightly from the shelves. “Where?”

“The bathing room.”

Both males went quiet for a fraction longer than normal.

Nia’s attention shifted between them. “…Why are you both reacting like that?”

Kael glanced briefly toward Shen before answering. “The stoneworkers finished the lower drainage channel yesterday.”

Nia straightened immediately.

“They finished it?”

“The heated basin is functioning already,” Shen explained quietly from farther behind Kael.

Nia stared at both of them for half a heartbeat before heading directly for the corridor.

Kael caught her wrist before she escaped the kitchen entirely. “Shoes.”

Right.

Cold stone floors.

Nia snatched the soft house shoes from beside the doorway before continuing down the corridor with considerably more speed than dignity while Kael’s quiet amusement followed behind her.

The bathing area sat deeper along the inner chambers now, expanded considerably from the original washing alcove she had started with weeks earlier.

Warm mineral heat touched her skin before she crossed fully into the room.

Nia slowed immediately.

The floor stones nearest the basin radiated faint warmth upward beneath her shoes while steam curled lightly through the air from the recessed bathing pool built directly into the floor.

Smooth stone channels carried heated water steadily from the rear wall.

Someone had polished sections of the surrounding rock enough that the bathing chamber no longer looked rough-cut and unfinished.

Nia stepped farther inside slowly while her attention moved across every detail at once.

The deeper pool sat beneath naturally darker stone, large enough now that she could stretch fully without knocking her knees against the edge. Shelves had been carved into the walls for soaps, oils, cloths, and drying herbs, while recessed wall niches spread softer amber light through the steam instead of harsh direct brightness.

Nia turned slowly in place. “When did this happen?”

“Over the last several weeks,” Kael said from the entrance. “You were busy.”

That was fair.

Still.

Nia crouched beside the water.

Steam drifted against her face while steady heat rolled upward from beneath the surface.

The water stayed hot.

Not bucket-hot that cooled after several minutes.

Actual sustained heat.

Her fingers slipped beneath the surface, and the temperature remained perfect.

Nia looked back over her shoulder. “How?”

“The lower channels circulate continuously through heated stone beneath the mountain,” Shen explained quietly from farther behind Kael.

Nia stared at the water again.

A naturally heated bath inside a mountain should not have felt this luxurious, and yet the heat soaking into her fingers made something deep inside her body loosen almost painfully fast.

Kael’s expression softened slightly. “You like it.”

Nia looked at him like the question lacked common sense. “There’s an entire heated bath inside your cave.”

“Our cave.”

The correction slipped out naturally enough that both of them seemed to register it at the same moment she did.

Steam drifted steadily through the chamber while Nia focused very hard on the water instead of examining why warmth had climbed so suddenly up the back of her neck.

She dipped both hands beneath the surface again.

The water remained perfect.

What hit her hardest was not even the luxury of it. It was the simple fact that somewhere beneath all the unfamiliar stone, routines, and adjustments, she had somehow managed to build herself a place where her body stopped bracing the moment she stepped inside.

Kael crossed the room slowly before crouching beside her near the edge of the basin.

“You like it that much.”

Nia looked down at the steam curling around her wrists. “I don’t think you understand how much I missed hot baths.”

Kael’s attention shifted briefly toward the basin before returning to her face. “I probably don’t.”

Nia splashed water directly at him.

Kael caught most of it against his forearm without flinching.

Shen, watching from behind him, looked far too entertained.

“I saw that,” Nia said.

Shen’s expression remained serene. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought loudly.”

“I wasn’t aware that applied to me.”

“It applies to everyone today.”

Kael lowered one hand into the water. The heat surprised him enough that his fingers paused beneath the surface before moving again.

Nia noticed with immediate satisfaction. “See?”

“It is warmer than expected.”

“It’s perfect.”

“For soaking,” Shen added while glancing toward the side channels, “not washing herbs or cloth. Mineral residue may build along the edges if the drainage isn’t cleared properly.”

Nia looked at him.

Then at the water.

Then back at him again.

“You really do know how to injure joy with useful information.”

Shen’s gaze shifted calmly toward the channels. “The workers asked whether the side sections should remain accessible.”

Nia reluctantly followed his attention.

He was right.

The channels should remain accessible if she wanted to avoid maintenance disasters later, and another entire line of thought immediately threatened dragging her into redesigning drainage systems instead of actually enjoying the bath.

She pressed both wet hands briefly against her face before forcing herself to stop thinking about it.

Kael’s mouth shifted faintly. “You can test the bath before redesigning it.”

“That is the first sensible thing anyone has said all morning.”

“I said to eat earlier.”

“That was different.”

“It was also sensible.”

“Do not make me reconsider splashing you again.”

Kael’s eyes warmed with restrained amusement.

For a while the chamber held only steam, low water movement, and the distant sounds of workers somewhere beyond the corridor.

Eventually Shen returned toward the kitchen to finish securing the flour bowls, and Kael stepped out briefly to speak with workers waiting beyond the side passage.

Nia stayed beside the pool, dragging her fingers slowly through the water while focusing on nothing more complicated than the warmth soaking into her hands and the way the heated floors kept her feet from aching against the stone.

By the time she returned to the kitchen later, she had rinsed the flour from her hands properly and refused to look too long at the covered bowls.

The bread sat cooling in a neat stack near the side shelf.

Another cloth now covered the top, and the serving plate had been moved slightly farther from the draft near the entrance.

Nia chose not to ask which of them had done it.

By late afternoon, the kitchen had settled into a calmer rhythm.

The flour bowls remained untouched, which she considered a personal victory.

Dinner needed to involve absolutely nothing related to wheat. She did not want another bowl of flour near her hands, another round of testing, or another excuse to drift back toward the counter and lose the rest of the afternoon to dough.

The market roots from the previous day sat near the lower shelves beside a slab of mountain boar thick enough with fat to handle high heat.

Nia selected the darker red roots first before reaching for the fermented dark sauce she had been meaning to use since spotting it in the market.

Kael leaned closer the moment she opened the jar. “What is that?”

“Dinner.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“It’s the answer you’re getting until I know whether it works.”

Shen appeared beside the counter with clean bowls, then paused once the smell reached him. “That sauce is stronger than the one from last week.”

“It should hold up better to heat.” Nia sliced the meat into thin strips. “We’re not making stew.”

Kael’s attention settled more firmly on the meat. “Good.”

“You say that like stew wronged you.”

“You made too much stew.”

“I made survival stew.”

“You made enough for a patrol.”

“And everyone ate it.”

Kael did not argue because everyone had, in fact, eaten it.

Nia heated a wide flat pan over the stones before adding rendered fat until it shimmered thinly across the surface.

Garlic-like bulbs went in first, followed by the sharper pale roots.

The kitchen filled with a bright crackling scent that cut cleanly through the lingering toasted grain.

Then the meat hit the pan.

Kael became very still near the fire.

Nia noticed and smiled faintly down at the pan. “This is why thin cuts matter.”

Shen leaned close enough to watch without crowding her. “It cooks faster.”

“And browns before it toughens if the heat stays high enough.”

The fermented sauce hit the pan with a deep hiss.

Steam rose dark and fragrant, salty-sweet and rich, wrapping around the meat while Nia tossed everything together with quick movements.

The red roots went in last so they kept some bite.

Kael inhaled once.

Nia angled the spatula toward him without looking away from the pan. “Do not steal from the cooking dish.”

His hand, already halfway closer, paused.

Shen quietly moved the finished flatbread farther out of reach.

Nia saw that too. “I appreciate you.”

“You were occupied.”

Dinner came together quickly after that.

The meat stayed glossy beneath the dark sauce, the roots held their shape, and the herbs cut through the richness just enough to keep the whole dish from becoming heavy.

Nia served it over mashed pale tubers whipped smooth with fat, salt, and a little hot cooking liquid until they turned creamy enough to hold the sauce properly.

Kael took the first bite with his usual confidence before pausing long enough that Nia’s grip tightened slightly around her own bowl.

“Well?”

He swallowed slowly. “This is different.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It tastes like the fire stayed inside the meat.”

Nia blinked.

That was actually a very good description.

Shen tasted his portion more carefully. “The sauce is strong, but the roots keep it from becoming too heavy.”

“Yes.” Nia lifted the spoon slightly toward him. “Exactly.”

Kael took another bite. “Make this again.”

Nia finally tasted her own bowl.

The sauce was not quite what she remembered from Earth, but the feeling of it came close enough: glossy meat, deep salt, sharp herbs, soft starch underneath catching everything the pan had left behind.

After flour dust, drainage channels, and Kael eating her evidence all morning, the meal settled through her with the kind of heaviness that finally made the day feel complete.

“I can make it again,” she said after another bite.

Kael looked satisfied.

Shen reached for the sauce jar and studied the seal. “This will need to be stored away from heat.”

Nia slowly lowered her spoon and looked at him.

Shen looked back calmly.

Kael wisely continued eating.

Nia gestured toward the far shelf with her spoon. “Put it wherever it needs to go after dinner. I am not reorganizing anything else today.”

Shen accepted that without argument.

For once, no one pushed the thought farther.

The kitchen settled into quieter evening warmth while they ate. Outside the archway, workers passed less often now that the settlement had begun shifting toward its night rhythms, and the smell of dinner gradually replaced the lingering bread scent from earlier.

Nia sat between the heat of the cooking stones and the distant promise of the new bathing pool, her ankle resting more comfortably than it had in days.

Kael leaned close enough that his shoulder brushed hers while reaching for another serving.

Nia shifted the bowl toward him before he asked.

Shen moved the sauce jar farther from the fire.

No one commented on either movement, but the quiet rhythm of it settled naturally around them anyway while the kitchen warmth pressed steadily against the colder mountain air beyond the stone.

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