As the cultivator prepared to ascend the mountain, she reflected on the trouble her lie would eventually cause. The Rock Mountain Mollusk sect would refuse to reimburse Lord Grasa, which would probably lead to one destroying the other.

Lily was fine with that. She had no intention of sticking around, or returning the money. In fact, Lily wasn't all that sure if she wanted to return to the lowlands at all.

There was precious little room for advancement at the sect. Like many others, her sect had become increasingly stratified. At the top were old monsters that could kill with a single blow, while the bottom was filled with people like her.

Lily had considered herself lucky to get all the way to the third tier before her progress stalled out. The other disciples rarely made it past the second tier. Granted, that was probably by design.

The sects operated like a funnel. Low level members were expected to gather cultivation resources while those higher up processed and doled out those resources to their chosen disciples. The elders also led personalized instruction and handled any big decisions about the sect's future.

At first, Lily had been amazed at the progress she made. Cultivation and training had come easy to her. But lately, she had become increasingly disillusioned with the whole enterprise. The math simply did not add up.

Lily had spent over a decade with the sect, harvesting cores and sacred herbs. Yet, when she tallied up the amount of essence she had spent on her own advancement, it was but a fraction of what she had gathered. There were talks of secret techniques that could draw and refine essence from the very air, but those were only given to the most loyal of disciples.

She had managed to glean a few ideas on how it worked from clandestine trips to the inner sanctum. The cultivator had tried to mirror what she saw them doing, but the results were less than spectacular. Still, it was better than nothing.

Lady Foxglove giggled with amusement as Lily started on her journey. The goddess had watched her career with great interest, giving a helpful nudge from time to time when she felt like it. It was amazing how close the young woman had come to realizing the truth without ever fully grasping it.

Simply put, the lowlands sects had lost their way. Their gradual decline had evolved into an avalanche, which unchecked, would bring about the destruction of all cultivators.

No, that wasn't quite right, Lady Foxglove mused. The old power structures were breaking down, but there would still be cultivators. They just wouldn't enjoy the lofty positions of absolute power their ancestors had. The crumbling sects would drag everyone down with them, sealing away any chance of mortals ascending to the heavens.

At least, that was the plan. Not her plan, to be sure. The goddess of mischief wasn't the planning type. She liked to throw things at the wall and see what stuck. It was more fun that way.

The other gods had made meticulous preparations for the coming winter festival in Hero’s Step. And they definitely had a plan, maybe even a good one. But she had something so much better, a stick to poke between the spokes of fate's wheel, a rock to jam the carefully oiled gears of progress.

Lady Foxglove had a boy with the blessings of three different gods. He would be an absolutely beautiful instrument of chaos. Zane would be the loose screw that brought down the mighty structure the others were constructing. The uneven paving stone that toppled kingdoms.

The goddess giggled as she thought about the events that were about to unfold. The kobold had delayed things by keeping Zane cooped up, but the boy was free to do as he wished now, and much more powerful as a result.

This was going to be so much fun! the goddess thought as she rubbed her hands together in anticipation. I can hardly wait!

***

Zane wasn't sure he liked where the conversation was going. They had purchased the restaurant for a song, the ingredients he used were fairly cheap, and it wasn't like they had any employees that needed paying. Yet, Pinky was adamant that they needed to make more money.

“I don't get it,” Zane said as he scratched his head, “We're doing great the way we are. One meal per day, plenty of time to relax after. It's a pretty sweet gig.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Yes, but what about the future?” She asked.

“What about it?” Zane was normally all about taking big risks, but he really liked this gig. It was amazing how good cooking felt. It was like everything else melted away. He could zone out for hours, grinding experience towards his next level.

Pinky groaned. Kitsune were very family oriented. It wasn't unusual to have multiple generations living in the same den. And, while she wanted kits of her own someday, that wasn't why she was so driven.

Her mother lived high up on the mountain. She had only migrated down to give birth to Pinky and her siblings. Newborns couldn't resist the fog, so spending time in the lowlands had been an unpleasant necessity. When they were able to fend for themselves, mother had heeded the mountain’s call and returned home.

The fog was keeping Pinky away from her family. It was an opaque barrier that stood between her and the reunion she hoped for. The stronger she became and the more essence she gathered, the further it receded.

Hero’s Step had looked like a gloomy cloud bank when she first arrived. Now, only a few weeks later, she could feel the sunshine on her skin again. With each new level and bit of essence, she could see the fog retreat further up the mountain. Soon, if she was lucky, it would reveal her home.

The kitsune was smart enough not to tell Zane any of that. She couldn't imagine that hanging out with her family would be a big draw for him. And the idea of her sisters trying to get their claws into the rogue cultivator made her want to bite someone.

Zane had asked why they needed to make more money. But it wasn't about money. The money was a way to get the resources they needed to advance. It wasn't the end goal.

Pinky got a ton of experience by serving food and interacting with customers. The kitsune’s other activities with her favorite cultivator were also helping her catch up. But she wanted to advance even faster. That meant doing more than just brunch. At the very least, they could do some catering.

Finally, she realized exactly what she needed to say. It was direct, it was honest, and she was putting it in terms Zane could understand. She reached out and put her arms around him. “It would make me very happy if the business did well, and I would like to be able to go further up the mountain.”

Zane smiled at the woman in his arms. If it would make her happy, he didn't mind putting in the extra effort. “Sounds good to me, but if I could make a suggestion…”

She listened as Zane talked. Pinky rolled the idea around in her head, then nodded. He wanted to start going out in search of better ingredients. That would save them money, and improve the quality of their food. Maybe they could even have special themed dinners if he found something truly special.

“Just come back to me in one piece,” she said.

Zane leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “Don't worry, I'll be home before you know it.”

***

The mayor of Hero’s Step looked at all the people scurrying around below and sighed. It pained him to see so many of them wrapped up against the fog’s cold. He knew it was sucking the life out of them. Yet, they persisted.

As a former cultivator, Jeffries was immune to the effects of the fog at this altitude. Of course, if he were to venture higher, he would quickly start feeling the effects. The man shuddered at the thought of cold gray walls surrounding him, once again reminded of the people below who braved the chill on a daily basis.

He had to respect that level of willpower. They wrapped themselves up and went about their day. If they couldn't hack it, they left. But some, like the core junkies, turned to desperate means in order to escape the fog.

The core junkies were a problem he didn't know how to solve. There was nothing keeping them here. All they had to do to be free of the icy chill was return to the lowlands. Then again, he supposed they might not have anything worth going back to. Maybe they even preferred the idea of dying on the mountain.

He frowned at the thought, but not at the strangeness of it. There was something about this place that called to anyone with even the slightest spark of cultivation.

Jeffries understood the drive to climb. Sometimes he even fell victim to it. After days that were particularly rough, the mayor often found himself fantasizing about leaving everything behind and seeing how far he could ascend. But he knew that his place was here, in Hero’s Step.

The Mayor had spent a great deal of time with the sects before he came to the mountain. What little he had learned about cultivation paled in comparison to the lessons they had taught him about organizational politics. Namely, what not to do.

The nice thing about running a city in the God Hand mountains was that there was little to no oversight. There were no kings or emperors to treat his treasury like their own personal piggy bank.

Technically, all the adjoining kingdoms claimed the mountain as their sole property. But it was hard to enforce that claim when whole armies could be lost to the fog and spirit beasts. If someone showed talking about taxes or tithes, Jeffries couldn't be held accountable for their inevitable disappearance.

He thought about his most recent problem. No, problem wasn't the right word. Complication was much more apt. A young chef had started shaking things up by serving essence infused dishes. Most people didn't know the food was special, only that they felt better after they ate it.

Normally this would have been a cause for joy. Consuming essence would help them fight the effects of the fog, and it was definitely healthier for them than smoking cores. But Jeffries had been around long enough to know that there was no such thing as a free brunch. And definitely not an essence infused one.

Zane was selling his food for significantly less than it was worth. That meant he was either an idiot that didn't know any better, or it was part of a larger scheme.

The Mayor called in his secretary. “Tell Captain Cerdo that I'd like him to take a closer look at the Cat, Dragon, and Fox restaurant. I'd like to know what sort of people are running it.”