Marked by the Four Beast Lords After Transmigration

Several nearby workers leaned just enough toward the entrance to make their interest obvious.

Frost continued melting from the edges of Tarek’s boots as he stepped deeper into the warmer chamber. Cold still clung to the heavy fur mantle draped across his shoulders, and his sharp gaze swept across the kitchen with the same guarded thoroughness Nia remembered from their earlier meeting over broth.

“You’re late,” Kael said beside her while continuing to cut roots against the broad stone board.

“The eastern path froze solid halfway up the ridge.” Tarek pulled the heavy mantle from his shoulders before crossing toward the nearest warming stones. “One of the patrol teams nearly lost an entire sled trying to reroute around the cliff bend. The ice caught beneath the runners before they realized the ground had shifted.”

Elder Bran looked up from the stack of storage tablets near the far counter. “Anyone hurt?”

“Only the harness.” Tarek held his hands near the warmth for a moment, flexing his fingers as feeling returned. “They caught the turn before the sled went over, but the upper path needs sanding before anyone takes loaded runners through there again.”

The tension inside the kitchen loosened once the worst of the report passed.

Nia caught the shift without needing anyone to explain it aloud. Winter pressure rested beneath nearly every conversation inside the mountain now, even the ordinary ones. A broken harness or blocked path could slow supplies for entire sections of the settlement once heavier snow arrived, and everyone here seemed to understand the consequences instinctively.

Tarek’s attention moved toward the remaining grain rounds near the side shelf.

“So this is the smell everyone’s been talking about.”

“It’s ground grain,” Kael replied.

Tarek glanced toward him flatly. “I gathered that much.”

Nia hid her amusement behind the clay water cup before either of them noticed.

Shen, meanwhile, had resumed organizing the storage shelves with enough focus to make it clear he was listening while leaving the conversation to unfold without him.

Tarek crossed toward the shelf and picked up one of the grain rounds without asking permission first. The movement carried the easy familiarity of someone accustomed to treating the kitchen as part of his regular territory rather than a formal workspace. He turned the softened grain round once in his hand before pressing lightly against the surface with his thumb, and the suspicion in his expression softened into wary curiosity.

“Why is it soft like this?”

Several nearby workers listened far too openly to the conversation.

Nia leaned one hip against the counter. “The grain was passed through the grinding stone more times than usual. The texture changed once it became finer.”

Tarek looked toward the covered bowls near the preparation table before returning his attention to the grain round in his hand. “That alone changed it this much?”

“The cooking method helped too.” Nia lifted one shoulder slightly. “The first attempts were denser and cracked more around the edges.”

Elder Bran’s attention sharpened from across the counter. “You made multiple attempts before the kitchen workers arrived?”

“She made multiple attempts after they arrived too,” Shen said while fitting another lid onto a storage jar. “The difference between the first and third batch was visible enough that half the room stopped pretending they were only here for breakfast.”

Nia looked toward him. “That makes it sound much more organized than it actually was.”

“You changed the water, the heat, and the resting time,” Shen replied, smoothing the cloth beneath the jar before sliding it into place. “That is still organization, even if you spent part of it muttering at the grain.”

One of the older kitchen women laughed softly into the pot she was stirring.

Tarek watched the exchange for a moment before tearing off a piece.

The kitchen quieted around him in the irritating way groups always quieted whenever someone important started evaluating something in public. Elder Bran watched from the preparation counter, several older workers slowed their hands, and Kael’s knife eased through the last root more slowly before continuing.

Tarek chewed once, then again. His expression barely changed, but some of the earlier suspicion eased from his face after he swallowed.

“That would survive travel better than dried grain cakes.”

The room loosened around the words.

Nia stared at him over the rim of the water cup. “You people really do think about winter every second of the day.”

Tarek looked genuinely confused by the statement. “The first heavy snow could reach the upper paths within a few weeks.”

“And if the northern pass closes early again,” Elder Bran added while adjusting one of the storage tablets, “half the trade caravans will never make it through before the mountain seals. Anything that travels better matters.”

Nia looked between them quietly afterward.

Nobody sounded alarmed. They sounded practical.

The pattern had become easier to recognize now that she had spent enough time inside the mountain. Winter was not treated like unpleasant weather people complained about before continuing normally. The entire settlement reorganized itself around preparation long before the worst cold arrived because carelessness in the mountains could become fatal long before anyone had time to regret it.

Tarek picked up another piece of the grain round.

“That explains the lower corridor,” he muttered around another bite.

Kael glanced toward him. “You always expect the worst first.”

“The entire hallway smelled unfamiliar. Smoke damage seemed more likely than this.” Tarek lifted the softened grain round slightly before taking another bite. “Spoiled storage would have been worse.”

Nia watched the exchange quietly.

The dynamic between them felt easier than she expected from someone who carried himself with as much scrutiny as Tarek did. He still looked like the kind of man who distrusted unfamiliar problems on instinct, but the edge around him settled differently near Kael than it had during their earlier meeting over broth. The suspicion no longer felt personal so much as habitual, woven naturally into the way he evaluated everything entering the mountain.

Tarek’s attention shifted toward her again.

“You changed the grain yourself?”

“Yes.”

“How long did it take to figure this out?”

Nia hesitated while trying to translate thoughts that still felt clumsy inside this world’s vocabulary.

“The grain kept changing depending on how fine it became,” she explained slowly. “The first attempts stayed too dense, but once the texture loosened more evenly, the heat spread differently while cooking. I also had to stop treating it like the earlier grain cakes. Those survive rough handling better. This needs more patience before it touches heat.”

Tarek listened with the same focused attention he had given the patrol report.

“And that caused this?”

“Mostly.” Nia gestured vaguely toward the remaining grain rounds. “The heat mattered too. Too much direct heat ruined the outside before the center finished.”

Elder Bran finally set one tablet aside and came closer to the counter. “That would explain why the earlier pieces hardened faster near the edges. The workers said the third batch stayed softer after cooling.”

Nia looked toward him over the water cup. “Exactly. I don’t know yet whether that will hold if it sits for half a day, or if it freezes, or if it travels wrapped in cloth. Those are different problems.”

“We can test that without taking much from the stores,” Elder Bran said, already glancing toward the covered bowls. “Small pieces, different wraps, different rooms.”

Tarek looked at the growing stack of tablets near him. “You already started documenting all of this.”

Elder Bran gave him a dry look. “The first frost reached the eastern ridge this morning. If softened grain can travel farther or feed patrols better, I am not waiting three days to begin writing things down.”

Tarek accepted the answer without argument.

The moment winter returned to the conversation, nobody argued further.

Nia found herself studying the exchange more carefully. The mountain prioritized usefulness above almost everything else. Not blindly and not without caution, but once something proved itself useful, people adapted around it instead of defending older habits simply because they were familiar.

The mountain’s practicality still caught her off guard sometimes, especially compared to how stubborn people back home could become once pride attached itself to a system.

Tarek finished the second piece of the grain round before noticing he had done it.

Nia saw recognition cross his face at nearly the same moment Kael did.

“You ate both,” Kael said.

Tarek looked down at the empty space in his hand with visible annoyance. “I was evaluating it.”

“You evaluated it thoroughly.”

“It required consistency.”

Quiet laughter spread through the kitchen while Kael failed to hide a small smile beside her. Tarek noticed the expression on Nia’s face a second later and narrowed his eyes slightly.

“You look far too pleased with yourself.”

“A little.”

Elder Bran finally looked up from the storage tablets. “None of you are helping.”

That only made the laughter spread further through the kitchen.

Tarek exhaled through his nose and looked toward the warmed pot one of the older women carried past him. “I leave for one frozen path report and return to grain experiments, public teasing, and a kitchen full of people pretending they have work near the same shelf.”

“That started before sunrise,” the older woman said as she set the pot down. “You arrived late enough to miss the best parts.”

Understanding spread visibly across Tarek’s face, and Nia regretted it almost immediately.

Elder Bran coughed hard enough that he had to turn away.

Kael looked entirely too calm.

Tarek’s gaze moved slowly between her and Kael before settling there with growing understanding.

“Half the mountain already assumes you’ll end up in the Chief’s chambers permanently at this point.”

Heat climbed sharply into her face before she stopped herself midway through the response, suddenly realizing she did not actually know how to explain the situation in a way that would make sense inside this world.

“You sleep there already,” Tarek pointed out.

“Because the mountain almost froze me to death when I first got here.”

“And you spend nearly all your time together.”

“We live in the same mountain.”

Across the kitchen, quiet amusement stirred again.

Kael looked entirely too satisfied with himself.

Near the storage shelves, Shen adjusted one of the lids a second time despite already securing it properly, his attention lingering there longer than necessary while the conversation continued around him. Kael being the obvious assumption made sense — Kael was Chief, Kael had found her first, and Kael had been the one openly carrying her through the mountain since the beginning — but the certainty of it still settled poorly beneath Shen’s ribs all the same.

Tarek either missed Shen’s reaction entirely or chose not to comment on it, because his attention remained fixed on Nia instead.

“Why are you helping him?” she asked.

“I’m explaining why everyone keeps looking at the two of you like this is already settled.”

“That does not make it less embarrassing.”

“No,” Tarek agreed after another bite of the grain round. “Probably not.”

By then, several workers had stopped pretending not to listen altogether.

Nia rubbed one hand across her forehead while trying to gather what remained of her dignity.

Beside her, Kael slid the finished bowl of cut roots toward the cooking station before finally looking at her properly again.

“You care too much what everyone thinks.”

“That is easy for you to say when this entire mountain already listens to you.”

“It listens to Elder Bran too.”

“That is not helping your argument.”

Kael’s mouth shifted faintly near the corner.

The warmth from the nearby cooking stones pressed steadily against Nia’s legs while conversation gradually restarted around the room, though the attention around her did not vanish completely. It softened into the ordinary awareness of people sharing space, work, food, and gossip in a mountain that apparently had very little use for private embarrassment.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!