Tuo Creek Bridge

Several people stood at the edge of the canyon.

The seemingly ceaseless winds blew from both sides of the rift valley, converging above the abyss and emitting a continuous, low groan. The sound was not sharp, but it pressed heavily into the ears, carrying a kind of ancient desolation.

Occasionally, small pieces of sand and gravel are swept up by the wind and hit the rocks with a crackling sound.

Fern raised her hand to hold down her long, pale purple hair, which was being torn back by the wind. Strands of hair slipped through her fingers and scattered in the turbulent air.

"The wind is too strong."

Her voice cut through the wind and came through steadily.

"In that case, our Flight Magic probably won't be enough. Should we go into another dimension? Or should Lord Lowell take us there?"

Lowell crossed his arms and looked down.

The depths of the canyon were filled with churning, grayish-white mist, obscuring everything. Only the rumbling sound of water echoed faintly from the depths, like muffled thunder.

"Let it go this time."

He shook his head.

"Coridor Lake was unavoidable before; waiting for the storm to subside and then taking the ferry would take months, which was too long for Fern. This canyon... we can always find a way to get through. Always taking shortcuts makes the journey less enjoyable."

"The taste of travel, huh?" Fern turned to look at him, her pale purple eyes slightly narrowed in the wind. "Speaking of which, there are indeed many places where Lord Lowell could have taken us directly by plane, yet he always chose to take a longer route or use a more time-consuming method."

"Fern."

Frieren's voice came from beside her. Her long, silvery hair was completely spread out in the gale, like a small, struggling flag.

We're on a trip.

Her emerald eyes gazed across the canyon. Under the leaden sky, the outlines of the rocks on the opposite bank were blurred, and further away stretched a desolate mountain range that seemed to have no end.

"If we only want to get to our destination as quickly as possible, Lowell could fly us to the Demon King's Castle gates in a few hours. But that... would just be moving."

She paused, as if searching for the right words.

"Travel is about the journey itself; you should enjoy the process and the meaning of the trip."

Fern thought for a moment and nodded slightly.

"Yes, Lady Frieren."

She looked again at the canyon ahead.

"So, what do we do this time? Wait for the wind to stop?"

"I can't wait any longer." Frieren shook her head. "The wind in the Tuo Creek Grand Canyon has been like this ever since I first passed through. It's been like this for hundreds of years, without stopping. Some people say it's a permanent wind tunnel created by the canyon's unique topography."

What about upstream?

"Upstream, we have to cross three steep, rocky mountains; the road is very difficult," Frieren said. "It will probably take... two weeks?"

"At least," Methode's gentle voice came from behind. She gracefully clasped her hands in front of her and estimated, "Considering the terrain and potential obstacles, two weeks is a rather optimistic estimate."

"What about downstream?" Fern asked again.

"The downstream leads directly to the sea, and the coastline is a sheer cliff over three thousand meters high. The scenery is quite beautiful," Frieren's lips curved into a smile, as if she were recalling something. "Lowell and I stayed there for a while during our honeymoon. Want to go see it?"

"No need."

Fern answered quickly, his voice flat.

Lowell suddenly exclaimed "Ah!"

His eyes lit up as if he had suddenly remembered something.

"That guy Gaan... the bridge should be fixed by now, right?"

"Yes." Frieren nodded, remembering as well. "And him too."

Fern looked at them. "Who?"

"An old friend." Frieren didn't elaborate, turning and walking upstream along the edge of the canyon. "Let's go upstream first. If the bridge is finished, it'll save us two weeks."

She added one more sentence.

"Besides, if there's a bridge, Fern won't have to go through the trouble of climbing the mountain."

Fern watched his master's retreating figure, remained silent for a moment, and then followed.

The wind continued to blow from both sides, whipping the robes and hair of the group. The path beneath their feet was rough rock, scattered with weathered gravel.

It took about half a day to walk.

The scenery ahead gradually changed.

At the narrow gap squeezed between two jagged mountain ridges, a gray-black shadow stretched across the roaring torrent and the surging wind.

It is a bridge.

The stone bridge has a single arch and a heavy, ancient design. The bridge is built with huge gray-white stone blocks, each of which is square and heavy, with mortar filling the gaps. The surface of the stone has rough textures left by years of wind erosion, and it has a matte finish in the dim light.

It stood there silently, as stable as bones growing out of the mountain, amidst the ceaseless gales and the muffled thunder of the water below.

On the flat ground near their side of the bridge, some tools were scattered: a hammer, a chisel, and several rolls of worn rope. There was also a pile of unused stones, with grayish-white stones of varying sizes stacked beside it.

A short, stocky figure sat with his back to them on a large, fallen log. He had his head down, seemingly examining something in his hands.

Lowell whistled. The sound was torn apart by the wind as soon as it left his mouth.

"Hey, Gaan."

The dwarf sitting on the log shifted his shoulders and turned his head.

A face roughened by the elements, a dark beard, dark brown eyes with a calm and steady gaze, and he wore thick leather overalls.

Lowell Frieren.

Gaan stood up. His movements were slow, with the steadiness characteristic of dwarves. His work boots creaked softly on the gravel.

"Haven't seen you for a long time."

Lowell walked over and patted Gaan's sturdy shoulder. His palm hit the leather with a dull thud.

"The bridge is repaired! Congratulations!"

He turned to the side and gestured to Fern and the others behind him as if to introduce them.

"Fern, Methode, Liletta. This is Gaan, the best stonemason I know, though he's the only one I know. He's been building this bridge for over two hundred years."

Lowell smiled, his expression carrying his usual teasing tone.

"I always tell him that we should open a school, and call it Jianqiao School."

Gaan's expression remained unchanged; he simply shook his head. His beard swayed slightly with the movement.

"I have no interest in teaching students. Besides, there's not much to teach about bridge construction."

Methode stepped forward, looked up at the stone bridge that stood majestically in such harsh conditions, and a hint of admiration appeared in her blue-violet eyes.

"Surprisingly, I've spent a considerable amount of time in the Northern Plateau, yet I've never heard of this bridge before."

Upon hearing this, Gaan glanced across the stone bridge, then looked up at the high sky above it.

"Naturally, there's a problem, which is why no one knows about it."

His rough fingers pointed to the sky.

The group looked in the direction he pointed.

High in the sky, several black dots hovered. Their wingspan was astonishing, yet they maintained a stable gliding posture even amidst the raging turbulence. The forks at the tips of their wings were clearly visible in the dim light.

"Riftwind Cloud Eagle."

Gaan's voice deepened, taking on the flatness of a stonemason recounting facts.

"Large bird-like monsters have built their nests in the crevices of the opposite cliff. There are many of them."

He paused briefly, as if considering his words.

"They are very clever. After discovering this bridge, they learned to use their wings to create strong, downward-sloping winds at specific locations. People or horses crossing the bridge would be thrown directly off the cliff."

He sighed, a short sigh that quickly dissipated in the wind.

"The day before yesterday, a group of merchants heard that there might be a shortcut here, and they wanted to risk crossing the bridge to find the Golden Land. Five men and eight horses, all went down. What awaited them below was not just stones, but something else."

Gaan had barely finished speaking.

Fern had already raised his hand, his staff already in his grasp, its tip slightly raised, pointing towards the sky.

"Whoosh--!"

Five condensed white beams of light tore through the gale and rose straight up. The light left brief but clear trails in the dim sky, like holes pierced in gray cloth with a sharp needle.

Puff.

Pfft.

A faint, muffled thud, mostly masked by the sound of the wind.

The five black dots in the sky froze simultaneously.

The next second, they exploded silently, turning into several rapidly Swirl and dimming halos of magical light. A few stray feathers drifted down, quickly swept away by the gale and disappeared.

From raising your hand to finishing, it only takes the time of one breath.

Fern lowered her staff, her expression unchanged. She simply tucked a strand of pale purple hair that had been blown by the wind behind her ear, a motion as natural as brushing a speck of dust off her sleeve.

Gaan stared up at the empty sky, his mouth agape.

He remained in that position for several seconds. Then he slowly lowered his head, his gaze falling on the slender, purple-haired girl in front of him, whose face still held a touch of girlish innocence.

He blinked.

There was clear surprise in his dark brown eyes, but even more so, a certain understanding that came after confirmation.

"Such a young girl, and so talented!"

"However, this is only a small portion. Their nests are high up on this cliff; I've observed them from a distance, and there are at least three hundred of them. These were just on routine patrol."

Lowell's eyes lit up immediately.

He rubbed his hands together, took half a step forward, and a hopeful smile spread across his face.

"Good! Standard procedure! The side quest has clearly been triggered!"

He held out his hand to Gaan, palm up, making a "take it" gesture. His posture was just like a regular customer waiting for his food at a tavern.

"Come, come, what is the reward for the mission? Bring it to me so I can see."

Gaan was taken aback by his sudden behavior.

He stared at Lowell for two seconds, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes.

You've changed a lot. You didn't used to talk like this.

Fern sighed softly.

"Please don't mind him. He does this sometimes." Her voice was steady, carrying a familiarity born from long-term interaction and a hint of indulgence. "Please continue, Gaan."

Gaan nodded.

"There's a reward, of course. The magic of 'Always Having Success When Making Pancakes'."

"I have the ingredients too. Top-quality Northern Frontier winter wheat flour, bharal milk, and a little wild honey. It's not easy to get these things in a place like this. Tomorrow morning, you'll be able to have a decent breakfast."

Frieren's gaze fell on the small bottle.

Her emerald eyes blinked, and the corners of her mouth slowly curved upwards into a clear arc. That smile held the unique gleam she possessed when she encountered intriguing magic, along with a touch of childlike anticipation.

"Pancakes..." she repeated softly, as if savoring the pronunciation, "Hot, with honey on top..."

She looked up at Gaan and nodded vigorously.

"Make a deal."

Fern also clenched his fist, looking very motivated.

Then, she naturally turned her head to look at Lowell beside her.

Lowell paused for a moment, then realized what was happening.

"Huh? Oh!"

He reached out and shook hands firmly with Gaan.

"Then it's settled."

The wind continued to blow, sweeping across the silent stone bridge, over the scattered tools, and over the few people standing on the edge of the canyon.

In the distance, from a crevice high in the rocks, a few sharp, long cries could be faintly heard, but they were quickly swallowed up by the sound of the wind.