Algraves was up early the next morning, a little bit before sunrise. The sky was only beginning to pale at the edges, a faint hint of color pushing back the long stretch of blue gray twilight. The air held the cool bite that came before the sun warmed the stones, and he breathed it in as he made his way toward the market. He wanted to make sure he went and got back to the vendor to grab his pot of salt. Smoked salt would definitely add some more flavor to his dishes, especially since there was no pepper in this world, which still felt profoundly wrong to him.

  He was also kind of bummed that he could not find tomatoes or some of the other fruits and vegetables he was used to. No barbecue sauce, he thought to himself. That is going to suck.

  Then he stopped mid stride. Wait. I forgot sauces, pastes, all the good things like that.

  Seeing quite a few shops open already, he quickly made his way around the marketplace, weaving between stands where morning vendors were still arranging their goods. He hoped to find things like soy sauce, miso, fish paste, fish sauce, and some of the other flavors he was used to. A few hopeful scents drifted from cooking stalls where early risers prepared breakfast for workers and travelers, but most of it was unfamiliar.

  He was unfortunately not as successful as he wanted to be. While he did find something they called fish wash, which was their version of fish sauce, he could not find any soy sauce or miso paste. The disappointment stung a little more than it should have, but after a bit of trial and error, he did find a seaweed based umami paste. At least that was what they called it. It was kind of a cross between soy and miso. It was not, not really, but it was better than nothing.

  He also found something called a sour fruit reduction that he thought, if he added honey to it, would make a good sweet and sour sauce. So he also found a small crock of honey. And lastly, although he was not a big fan of it, one of his wives had been, he found something along the lines of a fermented bean paste. Although it was not bean. It was apparently some sort of fungus or mushroom, but it smelled and tasted like a fermented bean paste. So, doubtful he would use it in a lot of things, it still brought a little bit of comfort, so he picked it up.

  Unfortunately, that was about it on the whole sauce and paste front, but it was what it was. He packed it all the way into his bag, grateful again for the storage pouch, and made sure there were no last minute things he had forgotten by perusing the market once more before making his way back to the Cai Pavilion.

  Not really having anything to pack up, he sat outside the pavilion and meditated as the sky slowly brightened. He listened to the soft stirring of the pavilion as Cai Ren and several family members began preparing the wagons for the early morning travel to Salt Peak. They had said it would probably take another two to three days, depending on how fast they traveled. The ox were well rested and they had greased the wagon wheels, so they were not too concerned. Normally it was a three day trip. They could make it in two if they had to, but most of the time, especially when they were not in a hurry, it was four. Because why rush, he thought, amused at how simple the logic was.

  About an hour, maybe two after sunup, Cai Ren and three merchant wagons set out. Two of them were the flatbed type and one of them was covered, more of a carriage type. A box van crossover, at least in his mind.

  The first day passed uneventfully as they made their way south toward Salt Peak. The Road beneath them was smooth, too smooth for anything natural, and the countryside opened into gentle hills and patches of tall grass. The night, thankfully, was also uneventful. Once again, Hu Bo and his mercenary company were with the Cai merchants. It turned out they were on a long term contract because the Cai family was, one, generous, and two, kind. Especially when it came to wounded members of the company. They often completely paid for or helped subsidize the treatment costs. Which, he learned from Hu Bo, was extremely rare in this world.

  This only made Algraves even more grateful to have met and befriended the Cai merchant family.

  It was early the next day, probably a mile, no, scratch that, probably an hour or two after sunrise as they were on their way again, when he noticed something odd up ahead.

  In the middle of the Road, in the distance, a rather large man was sitting cross legged. He was writing directly onto the Road with a pot, brush, and glowing ink. The symbols shimmered faintly before being absorbed into the stone.

  Concerned at first, Algraves noted the man was large enough to be ogre blooded. Although, he had to be fair. Even sitting down, he did not look quite as big as the ogre blooded female he had met.

  Hu Bo also looked down the Road, saw the man, and nodded with a faint smile. Then he looked to Algraves and said, “There is a Road Monk,” and nodded again as if that explained everything.

  Algraves was puzzled and asked, “What is a Road Monk?”

  Hu Bo looked at him oddly for a second, then exhaled softly.

  “They are complicated,” he said. “The short version is that the Road Monks are the reason the Road is still walkable. Every city depends on this Road, and the Monks have been maintaining it since before most kingdoms had names.”

  He pointed toward the seated giant.

  “Most of the ones you meet on the main Road are Road Disciples. That is Realm One. They can only cultivate properly when they are actually on the Road. The farther they get from it, the weaker they become.

  “Realm Two are Branch Disciples. They can walk the side roads, the smaller wagon paths and trade routes. Anything that connects to the Road counts. But if they get too far from any Road or branch, their strength drops.

  “Realm Three are Path Disciples. They can travel footpaths, long distance animal trails, anything that once carried travelers. Those were the backbone of the sect long ago.

  “Realm Four used to exist. Walkers. They could leave the Road entirely and still keep their cultivation steady. They followed what old texts call roads of meaning. No one knows how they did it.

  “And Realm Five were the Road Masters. They founded the sect. Could travel anywhere without losing cultivation. Mountains, oceanside cliffs, deserts, deep wildlands. Anything.

  “They are all gone now. No one has reached Realm Four or Five in thousands of years.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Hu Bo shrugged.

  “So what they do now is wander. Repair breaks. Clear beasts. Stop bandits. Keep travelers safe. They are not saints, but they take their duties seriously. And they have rules. No shedding blood on the Road unless they must. No stealing from travelers. Must give aid when asked. And if you ever try to damage the Road itself…” He shook his head. “Start praying.”

  He nodded toward the giant again. “That one is probably a Path Disciple or higher. Hard to tell with the old ones.”

  After the explanation, Algraves looked at the Road Monk again. The man was calmly packing away his tools now, still seated in the middle of the Road, watching as the merchant caravan approached with a slight smile on his face. When the Cai merchant caravan was within easy speaking distance, the large man stood with a surprisingly fluid motion and bowed politely.

  “Greetings. My name is Brother Hinshu. Travelers, you walk the Road with purpose, and may it accept your weight.”

  He bowed again.

  This time, Hu Bo looked at the man, realizing exactly how big he was, and whispered, “Heavy Steps. These are the monks whose presence alone deters bandits and other low level critters. I would not want to fight him, even if I were a cultivator.”

  Brother Hinshu, with obviously excellent hearing and probably other heightened senses, simply smiled.

  “We protect the Road, and we protect those who use the Road.”

  As the caravan continued, Brother Hinshu looked to Cai Ren and asked, “I am also traveling toward Salt Peak. Before I take a branch, would you permit me to travel with you for a bit?”

  Cai Ren nodded respectfully. “Always, Brother. It is an honor to have one of you walk with us.”

  Laughing softly, the large man nodded again and began walking, keeping pace with the caravan. His steps were light despite his size, each one landing with the faintest hum against the Road.

  They continued on until nightfall.

  Algraves, still not quite used to the way this world worked, could not help studying Brother Hinshu. Big, almost seven feet tall, broad like a linebacker on steroids. But the grace in his movement could only come from cultivation. His head had been shaved clean, no hair on his head or face. Apparently he liked to keep it oiled because when the sun beat down, the light sometimes reflected into Algraves' eyes. He had to keep looking slightly downward if he was anywhere near the man.

  At first it was funny. Then he thought, Well, that is probably a good tactic if you get attacked. Smart.

  Brother Hinshu wore old robes. Algraves could tell they had been patched many times. Frayed edges, reinforced seams, worn yet comfortable, and clean. This Road Monk sect did not put on airs. They were dedicated to travel and protecting the Road. And while Algraves still was not certain the Road actually needed protection, he had heard enough from merchants and from the guard captain to know the Road was the lifeline of the continent. It circled the entire landmass. The Road Monks had kept it alive during cataclysms.

  Later that night, once they had all settled down to camp, Algraves found himself by the cook fire with Brother Hinshu, who kept glancing at him, not threateningly but thoughtfully. Algraves finally smiled slightly and asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”

  The Road Monk watched him for a while longer without speaking, quiet and contemplative. Finally, he said, “You are a cultivator. I can tell. New on the path. I could feel you coming.” He nodded to himself. “A distortion in the Road’s pulse. A faint echo behind your footsteps. I cannot describe it better than that, but there is something odd. Odd about the way you cultivate. It resonates with the Road, which drew my attention. I was wondering if you would care to share what might be causing this.”

  Algraves leaned back on his hands, looked up at the stars, and thought for a long moment. Thirty seconds passed before he sat forward again.

  “Honestly, I do not know. I do not have a lot of experience in cultivation. I just started. I reached Rank Two of the first Realm yesterday. I do not feel anything from the Road, if that helps. And as for the faint echo, I do not know. Could be a byproduct of my method, but that is only speculation. Maybe as I progress, I will know more. If we meet again, I might be able to answer properly.”

  Brother Hinshu nodded slowly, sensing no deception.

  “You could almost be one of us. Your path is similar. Have you ever heard the Road Monk philosophy?”

  Algraves shook his head. “No. I am fairly new to the whole cultivation and Road Monk experience.”

  Brother Hinshu studied him again, surprised by his lack of knowledge. The sect was known across the continent. This made the older monk quietly thoughtful.

  “I have been traveling this Road for about thirty eight years,” Brother Hinshu said. “I may look like I am in my late forties, but I am, thanks to cultivation, a little over a hundred. I have traveled this Road to its completion twice. This is my third time. If all goes well, it should take another ten to fifteen years before I return to where I began.”

  He smiled.

  “I cannot go over the entire Road Monk philosophy. It is long and personal. Each Monk makes it their own. But a few things might benefit you.

  “Stillness and travel. Stillness and travel. When you walk, wherever you walk, do not do so in haste. Do not do so in need. Do not do so chasing vagaries. Stillness of heart, stillness of mind, creates stillness of travel and safety. Intention without movement. You can interpret that a hundred ways. I will not give you mine. I do not want to influence your cultivation.

  “But ponder on it. And remember, the Road, all Roads, are skeletons of civilization. They are the bones every society grows upon. Be careful, my young friend. If you do not know what path you walk, the Road will choose one for you.”

  He chuckled quietly.

  “That is something I share with people I like. A little sage advice, if you will.”

  From one of his sleeves, he produced a small knotted charm. A loop of something that looked like Roadstone hung from braided cords. He passed it to Algraves.

  “Here. A Road Knot charm. The thread will tighten if danger lies ahead on the Road. Nowhere else. The Road is my purview, and this might help you.”

  They talked further into the night. Brother Hinshu spoke of the sect, its greatness, its slow decay, and how proud they remained despite it. Everyone knew of the Road Monks. Everyone relied on them, even if they had forgotten why.

  Shortly after that, Brother Hinshu decided to meditate before sunrise, and Algraves did the same. He was not sure what to do with the monk’s advice, but he liked the man. And it never hurt to keep an open mind, especially in a new world.

  He also had a few ideas of what the faint echo behind his footsteps might be, but he definitely did not want to bring that stupid bird to anyone’s attention. That would absolutely cause him nothing but issues.

  Further down the Road, early the next morning, he finally saw one of the small shrine training areas the Road Monks used. As they approached, Brother Hinshu, once again walking beside him, nodded toward the shrine.

  “I will be stopping here. It seems there are new recruits waiting, and it would be improper to pass without imparting knowledge. All supplicants wait in that alcove until a Monk arrives to begin their education. Today, that appears to be me. My young friend, have a good journey. May the Road carry your weight.”

  Algraves nodded as the large Monk walked toward the shrine.

  Offhandedly, not thinking much of it, Algraves said, “May the road of life lead you to wonderful places.”

  The Road Monk froze, turned back, confusion on his face.

  “Excuse me,” he asked quietly.

  Algraves shrugged. “Life. It is like a road. Past, present, future. Where you started, where you are, where you will be.” He looked down at the Road. “Only difference is there are no borders.” He pointed to the edge of the Road. “Life is like that. It is a road. It is going to take you where you want to go, and to unexpected places. The only obstacles are you and what you allow to influence you. People, situations, whatever. You walk the road. Your road. That is life.

  “Where I come from, that is a common saying. Life is a highway. The road of life. Makes sense, right? You are a Road Monk.”

  He shrugged again and continued walking, completely unaware of the impact those simple words had on Brother Hinshu.

  The Monk stood there staring at nothing.

  “Life is a Road,” he whispered.

  The caravan moved past him, the sound of wagon wheels fading. Only when they disappeared from sight did he whisper again,

  “Life is a Road without borders.”

  And then he promptly sat down in the center of the Road and began to meditate.