The Gift of Gilded Grace

On the sixth night of their journey, the Blood Moon gradually rose beyond the Gray Fog.

Its crimson light fell across the Frozen Tundra and ruined walls, casting an old watchtower in the distance in a dull red.

Shien's convoy stopped beside a waystation under repair, and the camp began to take shape.

The waystation's outer wall had been partly restored. Old stonework stood among newly erected wooden posts, and scorch marks left by burning beast blood remained on the walls.

In the central clearing, Shien's group set out three temporary Sacred Flame braziers. Their flames were low, but they enclosed the document chests, horses, wounded men's bedding, and Recorders' desks within the light.

The guards split into three shifts. Voices stayed low, and footsteps and handovers remained within the firelight. The camp was subdued and alert.

Shien stood beside the main brazier, looking over the waystation.

According to the Reconstruction Institute's records, about a third of this stretch of road had been restored.

Here, those few words meant wheels could just about roll through and the wounded could spend a night beside a fire.

The wheels still jolted, but the convoy kept moving. The horses received fresh feed, craftsmen repaired axles beside the wagons, patrols changed shifts on time, and Recorders continued logging road conditions.

Together, these details showed a clear result: order was slowly returning. It was still rough, but it could function.

The convoy had been gone from Tear Knight City for six days. At its current pace, it would reach the heart of the Graymist Defense Zone in a little over ten more.

This journey focused on checking each stretch in turn. The sixth day's records had already been compiled, item by item, from what they had seen.

The clearest change along the route was that