an unfortunate change in genre

Part 4

Most people would consider being four years old as a serious disadvantage to getting things done.

Kim Rok Soo's scale of things was just a bit different.

When one is used to overwhelming and impossible disadvantages, something as small as age would naturally feel more like a minor inconvenience that can be simply planned around.

His age really didn't register to him within his plans, other than a factor of his body's strength and ability to successfully negotiate being impacted.

For Kim Rok Soo, it was less like a debilitating concern and more like a broken arm that would heal with time.

For Cale Henituse on the other hand, being eight years old was starting to create a lot of friction for his current aspirations. He wasn't a dumb person, far from it, but there were too many limitations to his current self for him to achieve the things he wanted.

There wasn't much he could do in the way of swordsmanship or study, too much exercise too such a young body can cause far more damage than good and he already knew the majority of the information he would need to study regardless.

Getting adults to make the preparations that he felt were necessary was also something of a nonstarter. Who would listen to an eight year old insisting that they fortify the walls and increase their military spending? Especially when such an act could be taken as one of preemptive aggression by their neighboring territories.

Not to mention he couldn't just build an army himself.

It felt like a gnawing inevitability to Cale that he would need to open up to someone for help. He already knew that Roksu was not an option. No matter how reliable the child seemed, a four year old was a four year old.

Ron might be the only person who might both be able to believe him and assist him.

It was a circular problem for Cale that always returned back to its starting point when he remembered Ron's pale corpse. The look on his son, Beacrox' face when he left the estate and never returned.

Cale had never been particularly close to the cook but it had still rattled him to see the stoic man's seemingly unbreakable composure shatter as he watched his father die.

Cale sighed and kicked a nearby stone.

Then there was this problem.

Puzzle City.

For whatever reason, their father had brought them here on a work trip. Cale had no recollection of this trip occurring during his original childhood so this was clearly another variant.

He frowned at the rock towers that were all throughout the city. The signs of wishes. A defiance to the gods.

Cale liked that part of it, he definitely didn't like the God of Death and was certain the others were probably bastards just the same.

He wondered if building a tower might help to ground himself though. He needed to find the determination to act or he would lose everything all over again.

Roksu was kneeling in front of a rock tower and smiling suspiciously to himself.

Cale's thoughts came to a halt at the sight and he turned to his dongsaeng with the utmost suspicion.

"...Roksu..."

"Hm?" Roksu looked up at him, his eyes alight with a mischievous light that could prove to be truly diabolical.

"...what are you plotting?" Cale suddenly had an idea as to why his father had announced a trip to Puzzle City.

Roksu looked offended, placing a hand over his chest. "Why would you ask that?"