The following morning, a cool breeze swept across the courtyard of Blackwood Manor.
The estate had become busier with each passing day.
Servants hurried between buildings carrying lumber inventories for the mill. Stable hands prepared horses for supply wagons heading toward Oakridge. Even the guards looked different than they had a week ago.
Their armor was still worn.
Their swords were still old.
But their backs were straighter.
People had started believing that tomorrow might actually be better than today.
Kael stood on the manor steps, fastening a dark traveling cloak over his shoulders.
Instead of his royal attire, he wore simple leather boots, dark trousers, and a plain tunic beneath the cloak. A short sword rested at his hip—not a ceremonial weapon, but one practical enough for the road.
Lily frowned as she looked him over.
"You really insist on dressing like this?"
Kael looked down at himself.
"What's wrong with it?"
"You look..."
She searched for the right word.
"...ordinary."
Kael smiled.
"Good."
"That's exactly what I'm aiming for."
Edwin approached, carrying a leather satchel.
Inside were maps, fresh parchment, ink, dried food, and a small pouch of silver coins.
"I've packed enough supplies for three days," he said. "If you decide to stay longer, there are manor storehouses in the southern villages."
Kael accepted the satchel.
"Thank you."
Edwin hesitated before speaking again.
"Must you travel without a proper escort?"
"I'll have one."
Kael glanced toward the gate.
Bram stepped through first, resting his shovel across one shoulder as always.
Behind him came Garrick, wearing a heavy traveling cloak instead of a smith's apron.
Master Rowan followed with a walking stick in one hand and a rolled map tucked beneath the other arm.
Edwin blinked.
"You convinced all of them to come?"
"I didn't convince anyone," Kael replied.
"I invited them."
Walter's old cart rolled through the gate a moment later.
The elderly farmer climbed down with a grin.
"I heard someone was touring Blackwood."
"I figured a man who's lived here seventy years might know a few shortcuts."
Kael laughed.
"I was hoping you'd say yes."
Walter shrugged.
"My wife said if I stayed home another day, she'd find more chores for me."
The group laughed together.
For a brief moment...
It didn't feel like a prince leaving on official business.
It felt like neighbors setting out on a journey.
As they passed through the manor gates, Kael looked back once.
Blackwood Manor stood proudly against the morning sky.
Old.
Weathered.
Still scarred by years of neglect.
But no longer abandoned.
"It already looks different," Lily said quietly.
Kael nodded.
"Not because we've rebuilt anything."
She looked at him curiously.
"Then why?"
"Because people are moving."
He pointed toward the courtyard.
"A week ago everyone waited for orders."
"Now..."
"They're looking for work before anyone asks."
Edwin smiled.
"I hadn't noticed."
Kael looked ahead to the winding road.
"That's how change begins."
The road south crossed rolling hills covered in golden grass.
Farmers worked small fields beside the road, pausing now and then to wave at Walter.
Every few miles they passed another homestead.
Some looked well maintained.
Others had collapsed roofs and empty barns.
Kael noticed the pattern.
"The farther we get from Oakridge..."
"The poorer everything becomes."
Walter's smile disappeared.
"Oakridge isn't the poorest village."
Kael looked at him.
"It isn't?"
Walter shook his head.
"No."
"If we're heading south..."
"You'll soon see Hollow Creek."
No one spoke after that.
The way Walter said the name...
Made it sound less like a village.
More like a warning.
By midday they reached a stone bridge crossing a narrow river.
Half the bridge had collapsed into the water below.
A merchant caravan stood on one side.
Three wagons.
Six horses.
A dozen tired merchants.
The lead merchant kicked a broken wheel in frustration.
"Damn it!"
"We'll lose two days because of this!"
Kael approached slowly.
"What happened?"
The merchant looked up.
"The bridge."
He gestured toward the collapsed stonework.
"It gave way under the first wagon."
"When did it collapse?"
"Last month."
Kael frowned.
"And no one's repaired it?"
The merchant laughed bitterly.
"Friend..."
"No one's even inspected it."
One of the younger merchants joined the conversation.
"We've already stopped trading with three villages because of these roads."
"It costs us more to come here than we earn."
Walter quietly muttered,
"And then people wonder why Blackwood stays poor."
Kael looked at the broken bridge for a long moment.
A broken bridge didn't just stop wagons.
It stopped trade.
Medicine.
Letters.
News.
People.
One crack in the right place could slowly suffocate an entire region.
The system appeared before him.
"Imperial Observation"
Infrastructure affects more than travel.
Every road connects commerce.
Every bridge connects opportunity.
A ruler who neglects roads...
Separates his own people.
Kael dismissed the notification.
He didn't need the reminder.
He was already thinking ahead.
Not just to repair this bridge.
But to build a network that connected every village in Blackwood.
Roads.
Bridges.
Trade routes.
Supply lines.
One day...
Magic railways.
Airship docks.
Communication crystal towers.
The vision formed in his mind piece by piece.
Not for today.
But for the future.
As the group prepared to continue on foot around the damaged bridge, Rowan suddenly stopped.
He pointed toward a line of wagon tracks leading away from the road.
"Those aren't old."
Everyone looked.
Fresh wheel marks disappeared into the nearby forest.
The merchant frowned.
"That's strange."
"We didn't come from that direction."
Walter slowly crouched beside the tracks.
His weathered face hardened.
"Neither did any honest merchant."
Kael knelt beside him.
"What do you mean?"
Walter picked up a handful of disturbed dirt.
"This trail wasn't made by traders."
"It was made by wagons trying not to be seen."
The wind rustled through the trees.
Bram rested a hand on the handle of his shovel.
Garrick instinctively glanced toward the tree line.
No one spoke.
Then...
From somewhere deep within the forest...
A faint cry echoed.
It was distant.
Barely audible.
But unmistakable.
Someone...
Was calling for help.
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