Chapter 165: Organized Chaos
Exactly a week flew by. Dornheim existed in a state of unceasing racket: pickaxes ground through stone underground, saws shrieked on the surface, and inside Iron’s workshop, time seemed to warp into one endless, blurring shift.
When Marek pushed open the heavy workshop door, he froze on the threshold, at a complete loss for where to plant his boot. The entire floor was carpeted in torn parchment, drafting vellum, and thick sheets of charcoal dust. Atop the workbench rose jagged mounds of blue and rainbow ore fragments, with half a dozen empty mugs bearing dried rings of herbal tea huddled between them.
"Good grief..." Marek stepped over a particularly massive blueprint, trying his best not to trample anything. "Place is an absolute minefield, I swear."
Iron didn't even lift his head from the page where his pencil was tracing the distribution nodes of the future tower.
"It's organized chaos. I prefer it this way."
"Well, if you say so," Marek conceded. "Look, I've got a favor to ask. Step away for half an hour. My boys finished the first phase. Built three houses, solid frames, completely up to your specs. Want to come inspect the work? It would mean a lot to the folks if you took a look yourself."
"Can't," Iron cut him off flatly, his focus snapping back to the schematic. "I'm right in the middle of calculating the emitter's power nodes. If I misjudge the core's cross-section by a single millimeter, the first boot-up will hit us all with a lethal ultrasonic backfire. Time is running out. Go without me."
Marek sighed but didn't push.
"Fair enough. I'll leave you to it."
The builder turned and slipped out, quietly closing the door behind him. Since the boss was tied up, I'll just form an alternative 'inspection committee,' he figured. Within ten minutes, he was striding briskly across the square, roping in anyone with a spare hour to look at the work: Darwin, Clara, an exhausted Noah he dragged from the crowd, and Elyria, who was flitting about nearby.
The makeshift "inspection committee" stopped in front of the three brand-new log cabins. Darwin strode up to the corner structure, slammed a heavy fist against a massive support beam, and gave an appreciative grunt. Solid. Clara circled the building, peering beneath the eaves, and offered a nod of her own.
"Clean work, Marek. The joints are tight; they won't let any drafts in."
Marek beamed with pride, then turned his gaze toward Noah.
"What about you, Commander? Think Iron will sign off on them?"
Noah was standing a short distance away, shoulder propped against the palisade. To put it mildly, he looked like hell. Running around-the-clock oversight at the mines had completely drained him. Deathly gray shadows clung under his eyes, his gaze glassy and heavy with sheer exhaustion.
"They're fine..." Noah muttered reluctantly, not even bothering to glance at the buildings. "They've got walls, they've got roofs. The rest is details."
Elyria, hovering just over Clara's shoulder, immediately clocked his sour, sleepy expression. A mischievous glint flared in her eyes. She dived silently toward a small patch of untouched grass near the fence, plucking a massive, incredibly fluffy white dandelion that had somehow survived the builders' heavy boots, and shot back into the sky.
A second later, she was hovering directly in front of Noah's nose, solemnly thrusting the flower's stem toward his lips.
"Iron would call this a 'microphone,'" the spirit piped conspiratorially, barely suppressing a giggle. "Lord Noah, would you care to comment on today's inspection?
Noah stared at her silently for several seconds.
"No."
"Then perhaps a brief statement?"
"No."
"At least a few words for the people of Dornheim?"
Noah let out a heavy sigh through his nose.
"Elyria, if you don't stop right now—"
The very instant he opened his mouth, Elyria shoved the entire fluffy dandelion head straight into it with lightning precision.
"Ghk?! Cough! Cough-cough-cough!"
Fluff clung to his face, hair, and even his eyebrows as he desperately tried to spit it all out.
Elyria froze for half a second.
Then she completely lost control.
"Pffft!.. HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"
The spirit doubled over in midair, clutching her stomach as uncontrollable laughter shook her entire body.
"Such passion! Such emotion! A magnificent statement, Lord Noah!"
"Have you completely lost your mind?!" Noah roared, furiously wiping seeds from his face.
Elyria squeaked, spun around sharply, and shot off toward the central square.
"You little parasite."
Noah immediately took off after her.
Behind them, Marek, Darwin, and Clara watched the chase in silence.
Several seconds passed.
Finally, Darwin broke the silence.
"Remind me again... how old are those two?"
Clara rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly.
"Physically or mentally?"
Marek let out a heavy sigh.
Twilight quickly gave way to the dead of night, spreading a pitch-black canopy over Dornheim. In the center of the settlement, a massive bonfire crackled, warding off the creeping chill of the forest and casting long orange shadows against the timber walls of the new houses. Almost all the camp's leaders had gathered around the flames to finally enjoy a quiet dinner after a brutal day.
Elyria hovered mournfully over the flames, knees pulled to her chest, staring toward the dark silhouette of the workshop.
"We've called him three times already," she piped softly. "Marek went, Darwin went... He won't even unlock the door. He hasn't come out in a whole week. I'm worried he's just going to starve himself into a coma or burn out completely from the stress."
Noah, who had finally managed to clean every last speck of dandelion fuzz from his face and clothes, poked at the embers with a long stick.
"Stop being so dramatic," he snorted, popping a piece of jerky into his mouth. "Is this your first day knowing him? He won't rest until he finishes that damn tower blueprint. Once he delivers a working defense grid, he'll cool down and get back to normal. Leave him be."
Nearby, Clara sat on an adjacent log, ladling a thick, steaming game stew into clay bowls. The rich, savory aroma made the exhausted group's mouths water instantly.
Clara’s jaw dropped when Elyria abruptly abandoned her worries, diving straight toward one of the largest bowls and devouring a full human portion with incredible gusto. Clara froze, ladle suspended midair, staring in disbelief as a third spoonful of hot soup vanished into the tiny spirit. The woman rubbed her eyes for a long moment before she finally couldn't help but ask:
"Elyria... excuse the silly question, but why do you even eat human food? Aren't you supposed to live off... I don't know, moonlight, dew, or absolutely nothing at all?"
The spirit stopped her spoon inches from her face, eyes closed in blissful satisfaction, and haughtily turned up her nose as she perched right on the rim of the clay bowl.
"It's actually quite simple. All physical food is energy."
She tapped her spoon against the bowl's edge like a seasoned academic.
"My body operates on an entirely different spectrum. I don't digest these chunks the way you humans do. My core instantly extracts the pure, energetic baseline from the food and refines it directly into mana. For me, a hearty meal by the fire is the fastest, most effective way to replenish my magical reserves after spending all day moving massive rocks on the surface. So... could I have that piece of meat over there, please?"
Right, 'moving rocks,' sure you were, Noah thought to himself.
Clara shook her head in amusement, but with a warm smile, she ladled an extra helping into her bowl.