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Traveling to ancient tribes to build infrastructure Novel Cover

Traveling to ancient tribes to build infrastructure

I woke up with a splitting headache, only to realize I had transmigrated into the body of a fragile rodent-variant female in a brutal, mutated wasteland. Before I could even process my new reality, I was shoved into a mandatory pairing auction. The guards gave me exactly ten seconds to find a partner, or I would be sent to the deadly border patrol squads as cannon fodder. Three massive, heavily scarred mutants with greedy eyes immediately locked onto me, ready to claim me as their plaything. Desperate for a legal shield, I scrambled away from the brutes and made a shocking choice. I walked straight up to the one person everyone else was avoiding like the plague—a sickly, pale man coughing up dark red blood in the corner. "Partner up. I need a shield, you need a caretaker." When the guard registered our names, the entire square erupted in open mockery. The chieftain even warned me that my new partner was poisoned, a dead man walking who couldn't hunt or protect me. In their eyes, a weakling and a dying man were nothing but a joke, doomed to freeze or starve. But the jeering crowd didn't know two things. First, I possessed a wealth of old-world survival knowledge. Second, the fragile man sleeping on my stone bed wasn't just a dying invalid. Why would an elite silver wolf warrior with terrifying, suppressed power hide among the lowest of the low? I didn't care about his secrets. Looking at the barren dirt behind our rundown shelter, I handed him a stone hoe. While the rest of the camp waited for us to die, we were going to build an impenetrable underground fortress.
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Chapter 2

Ariel grabbed the edge of the warped wooden door. She shoved it hard. A loud, grating creak echoed through the empty room, the rusted hinges protesting every inch of movement.

A wave of stale air hit her face. It was a thick, suffocating mix of mold, damp rot, and years of settled dust.

Ariel choked. She stumbled back, pressing her sleeve over her nose and mouth as a violent coughing fit seized her chest.

Elvin stepped forward. He moved in front of her, his tall frame blocking the worst of the dusty draft. He waved his hand in the air, clearing a path through the floating particles.

They stepped inside. The dim light filtering through the cracks in the walls revealed a disaster. Scattered stones, piles of dried weeds, and dirt covered the floor. And there, in the center of the ceiling, a massive hole gaped open. The freezing wind whistled through it, a constant, biting stream.

Ariel sighed internally. She forced down the panic, the despair. She was a survivor. She had survived worse in her past life. She could survive this.

She turned to Elvin. He was leaning against the doorframe, his chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths. She pointed to the corner where a flat slab of stone served as a bed.

"Sit," she said. Her tone was gentle, but it left no room for argument. "Rest."

Elvin blinked. Something flickered in his eyes-surprise, maybe. He wasn't used to being ordered to rest, especially not with that kind of quiet concern.

He obeyed. He walked over to the stone bed and sat down, his movements slow and deliberate. He settled back, his gaze fixed on Ariel, watching her every move.

Ariel rolled up her sleeves. Her arms were slender, marked with a network of old scratches and fresh bruises. She found a half-bald broom in the corner and began to sweep. The bristles scraped against the stone floor, pushing the debris into a pile.

A massive rock sat right in the middle of the room. Ariel pushed it with the broom. It didn't budge. She dropped the broom and pressed her hands against the cold surface, pushing with all her weight.

Nothing.

She gritted her teeth. She dug her fingers into the rough edges, her face turning red from the strain, and pushed again. Her arms trembled.

Elvin watched her stubborn, awkward struggle. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee. Once. Twice.

He stood up. He walked over until he stood right behind her.

"Let me try," he said softly.

Ariel looked up, worry creasing her brow. She opened her mouth to stop him, but he was already bending down.

Deep inside, Elvin tapped into a sliver of his suppressed power. A tiny thread of silver wolf energy surged through his veins. He gripped the rock.

He pretended to strain. He grunted, his face twisting into a mask of effort. The hundred-pound rock scraped across the floor and thudded against the wall.

The moment it was done, he threw out a hand to brace himself against the wall. He let out a series of harsh, ragged gasps, his shoulders heaving.

Ariel dropped the broom. She rushed over, grabbing his arm. His skin was ice cold under her fingers.

Her heart clenched. She guided him back to the stone bed, making him sit down. In her mind, she reevaluated him. He was stronger than he looked, possessing a surprising burst of power, but that single act had completely drained him. His body was incredibly fragile. Handle with Care.

She rummaged through the broken wooden cabinet in the corner. Nothing. Just dust and splinters. Finally, in the very back, she found a shriveled, mutated potato root.

She took it outside. Using a chipped stone knife, she painstakingly scraped away the blackened, moldy skin. It took her ten minutes just to get it clean enough to eat.

Back inside, she snapped the root in half. The larger piece, maybe a third bigger, she handed to Elvin.

Elvin stared at the tough, fibrous root in his hand. A complex emotion flickered in the depths of his eyes.

Ariel chewed her small piece. It tasted like dirt and cardboard. It was dry and hard to swallow. But she forced it down, her eyes fixed on the river outside the door.

Her mind was already working. Calculating the water flow. The depth. The terrain. Remembering the fishing techniques from the old world.

She swallowed the last bitter bite. She turned to Elvin, her eyes bright with a fierce determination.

"Tomorrow," she announced, "we eat meat."

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