“What’s that awful noise…?” Blue asked, crawling out of Micro’s pocket with a frown.

“Oh, you found them.”

“It’s not very different from the first dungeon trial I did.” Micro replied while pushing the rock through the winding tunnel, stirring up dust and sparks. The grinding sound of the rocks made Micro cringe, but he continued forward.

“The dungeon floor was smoother though. Sorry about the noise.”

As the sound of the collapsing mine followed closely behind him, Micro continued to push the rock faster and faster toward the exit. Ember did her best to keep her parents from falling off the edge of the reasonably flat surface of the rock, and Blue watched silently from Micro’s shoulder with one eyebrow raised.

After enduring the pain in her leg and her confusion for what felt like hours, Ember was then surprised by the light of day. In a cloud of dust, Micro finally succeeded in pushing the rock out through the exit with such velocity that it sailed through the air for several meters before landing with a thud before half a dozen somber spectators.

“Hey!” Spark shouted, the only one among those gathered able to raise their voice at the spectacle. She ran forward as the mine completely collapsed behind Micro and climbed up on the rock to see her family.

Barb and Kern remained motionless but breathing, and Ember reached her hand out to Spark, but the little girl quickly avoided her sister’s hand and dove straight to the hammer still gripped tightly in Kern’s hand.

“Hammer!” Spark shouted at the old tool.

“You came back!”

Ember rolled her eyes, and Micro smiled at her show of affection for the tool, when he suddenly heard the same faint voice he’d heard in the cave.

“Thank you…” The voice echoed.

“It was you!” Micro shouted in realization at the hammer which Spark was awkwardly hugging, though it didn’t reply.

“Unbelievable…” Margo said as she approached Micro with shock in her eyes.

“You were gone so long… We were certain you were lost.”

“Lost?” Micro laughed.

“That wouldn’t suit a truck at all.”

~

The residents of the small mining village eventually assisted Ember in transporting her family to a small hut, where they were washed and given fresh bandages. Micro watched curiously as one elderly villager carefully adjusted Kern’s broken legs after cleaning the cuts with water from a well, and Barb soon awoke to a fresh bowl of soup.

“Does this family owe you something, perhaps?” Margo cautiously asked Micro after Spark escaped her grasp to chase after Blue outside.

“To go to such great lengths to save their lives, what could be done to repay you now?”

“It’s no trouble, really.” Micro replied.

“I hope you don’t mind, I took some metal with me on the way.”

“You did what?” Margo asked.

“I don’t have a lot of room in my storage, but I threw in some ores I found on the way in.” Micro explained.

“This is your mine, so do I owe you anything?”

“It’s my land to manage, but the contents of the mine are the king’s…” Margo answered.

“I wouldn’t dare charge a disciple of the Fire Mountain Turtle Sect a fee!”

Micro reached into the space above his shoulder, his hand disappearing for a moment in the process, and extracted a handful of small rocks. He showed them to Margo, whose face froze in disbelief.

“I thought it was an iron mine, but some of this was blocking the tunnel to Kern and his family.”

“That-” Margo stuttered.

“There’s a lot of copper mixed in there, but finding gold really is exciting!” Micro explained with a bright smile.

“I can see why people like treasure hunting so much now. It’s tempting to go look for more, but I should be going soon.”

Margo continued to stare at the assortment of ores in Micro’s hand, among which were several gold nuggets no smaller than a tooth. She then tracked his other hand as he picked one of them up and handed it to her. She instinctively held out her hands to receive it. As he dropped it in her hand, she felt like its weight may pull her into the ground, but she stood still with her head bowed.

“That’s for the soup.” Micro said as he picked another from his hand, then walked over to where Ember lay staring at the straw ceiling.

Ember glanced at him and frowned, but upon sensing the unmistakable aura of a cultivator radiating from him, she quickly averted her gaze.

“This is for your hospitality.” He knelt down and placed the second nugget beside her.

“Maybe you could make something with it.”

“You’re a real cultivator, huh?” Ember said as she looked up at the ceiling.

“At the moment, I am.” Micro replied.

“Then you were telling the truth?” Ember continued, her voice lowering to a mumble.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Of course.” Micro shrugged.

“If you plan to make slaves of my family, spare my sister, please.” Ember whispered with a frustrated tone.

“You cultivators always have enough gold to make everything how you want it to be.”

“I don’t plan on making any slaves.” Micro replied with a frown.

“Anyways, I should be going-”

Micro was interrupted when Ember reached out to grab his leg before he could stand, causing several of the villagers present to freeze in terror, though nobody dared raise their voice.

“Tell me!” She growled up at him.

“Why must we live at your whims?!”

“What do-” Micro stammered, but she continued.

“Is it because we aren’t born up in the clouds like you? Is it because you pity us?” Ember’s voice filled with anger as her questions continued, causing several onlookers to back slowly out of the hut in fear.

“You wave your hand and we work ourselves to death, then you wave your other hand and gold falls in our lap?! Is this a game to you?”

Micro thought for a while about what Ember had asked him, noticing after some time had passed that only Margo had remained in the hut where Micro stood near Kern, Barb, and Ember. He took a deep breath as he formed a conclusion.

“The old man said there was never an excuse to be rude, but to be honest…” Micro slowly answered.

“I think cultivators might be a little bit slow.”

“Huh?” Ember blurted out, genuinely surprised by his admission.

“I do think Kel and his family are really nice, that’s for sure, but…” Micro paused.

“But what…?” Margo suddenly asked, lifting her head to reveal the fear on her face displaced by curiosity.

“They’re so focussed on cultivating that they completely ignore everything else!” Micro caught himself shouting.

“They have so many convenient powers, but they don’t even have roads! Where’s the common sense in that?”

“Roads?” Ember repeated.

“Exactly!” Micro continued to shout.

“They spend so much time running around and fighting in the mountains for fun, and all of you are down here working. And everybody walks everywhere!”

“Wait…” Margo mumbled before Ember could find the words to retort.

“Are you saying you agree with her?”

“I may be a truck, but I’m a truck with a brain now.” Micro replied, pointing his free hand at his head.

“Getting used to feelings is tough, but I think I’m getting the hang of opinions.”

“Opinions…?” Margo asked.

“Of what?”

“Of this crazy world!” Micro shouted, startling Ember and Margo.

“Everybody is so busy walking their own path that they don’t bother making roads between them!”

“We can’t even afford horses here, so what good would roads do?” Marko asked, but she quickly bowed her head again.

“I apologize for questioning your judgement!”

“It’s fine, relax.” Micro rolled his eyes and walked over to Margo. He put his small collection of ores back in his storage then continued.

“Even on foot, it took way longer to get here from Kern’s house than it should have. And even if you had wheels, you’d get stuck a thousand times on the way.”

“You’re saying cultivators are fools… because they don’t use roads?” Margo asked, sincerely trying to understand Micro’s explanation as confusion filled her mind.

“Exactly right!” Micro continued.

“But the cost of such an endeavor…” Margo mumbled.

“How much would thirty kilometres cost?” Micro asked.

“Thirty what?”

“The distance from here to the city. How much would it cost to pave a road that long?”

“Pave it with what?”

“Concrete, of course.”

“What’s that?”

Micro’s frustration suddenly dispersed with a heavy sigh as he brought his hands to his face. After collecting himself for a moment, he continued.

“I’m sorry. I know you have a different way of building things here…” Micro said as he glanced around the humble structure of wood and straw.

“There was an old road in a historical district a few hours from the village where my driver lived. It was an ancient road made of stones, but it wasn’t as bad as driving on dirt and gravel. Do you think you could pave a road with flat stones?”

“Only cultivators deal in currency at that scale, but to hire a team capable of such work…” Margo forced herself to follow the conversation as far as Micro pushed it, though the strain was apparent on her face.

“Could you pay them with gold from your mine?” Micro asked.

“Any gold found in the king’s mine is the kings.” Margo replied.

“We’re entitled to half of the ores we extract, but only cultivators can lay claim to any gold they find… But the road you speak of, it would cost a fortune to hire the labour needed.”

“How many gold coins is a fortune?” Micro asked with a keen expression.

“You’re serious about this, huh?” Margo sighed.

“A road of stone, all the way to the city?”

“Wide enough for two vehicles to pass each other safely, and slightly raised in the centre so the puddles don’t get out of hand.” Micro explained enthusiastically.

“Oh, and tunnels through the bigger hills. Those are no fun to drive up.”

“No less than ten gold coins, fifteen depending on the harvest…” Margo replied with wide eyes.

“That would buy you the labour you need, but why would anybody-”

“Here.” Micro quickly pulled fifteen of the gold coins Tohan had given him and pushed them into Margo’s hand.

“Please do that!”

Ember and Barb, who had been watching the conversation as if watching clouds pass overhead on a sunny day, remained silent as Margo counted the coins in her trembling hands.

“I assumed the coins were worth much less. Everybody was betting so much on our fights at the tournament.” Micro sighed.

“Who’d have guessed you could build a road with so few of them. What are they thinking up there in the mountains…?”

“You’re not joking?” Margo whispered, unable to take her eyes off the coins in her hands.

“I like jokes, but the lack of good roads on this world is a serious problem.”

“And you’re seriously commissioning such a road?”

“I’ll come back and use it when it’s done.” Micro smiled.

“There are some excellent rocks in the mountain next to you!”

Margo looked up at Micro with doubt in her eyes, but was surprised to feel relieved by his sincere expression. She gripped the coins tightly against her chest and slowly nodded.

“I am honoured to receive this commission from the Fire Mountain Turtle Sect.” She said slowly.

“I’ll bring the order to the guild in the morning…!”

Micro nodded in return, then extended his right hand.

“Apparently this isn’t common on your world, but I’d feel better if we shook on it.”

“Umm, of course. Anything you say!” Margo tucked the gold coins into her pocket and grasped Micro’s outstretched hand with both of hers.

“What is the next step in this ritual?”

“Oh, that’s it.” Micro replied.

“It’s a deal.”

Suddenly, the villagers who’d retreated from the hut became noisy outside, and a wind swept over the hut that rustled the straw roof.

“Where is he?!” A voice Micro knew rang out.

“I could sense him until just a moment ago. Where is the one called Micro?!”

Micro ran out the door of the hut to find half a dozen trembling villagers kneeling on the ground, bowing before an elderly woman in blue robes and light armour, the unmistakable attire of a disciple of the Tiger Moon Sect. She looked older than she did the last time Micro had seen her, and Azar was nowhere to be found, but her eyes were filled with anger and desperation. Micro waved to her as he walked past the villagers, then called out to her.

“Hello again, Lena!”