Chapter 5:

Day 8: No Matter, What the Weather, We're Together.

"..Do I even know how to build a house?"

Wanting to build a nice home is one thing. Building it, even with reality-bending powers, is another. Not to mention, I lack tools, if I need them, or pen and paper to plan it out, or the materials, or even the experience to build a house. Not to mention how I should try to put modern luxuries into this house.

But being under a roof, one I can call my own, where I can relax, instead of constantly watching my back for monsters, is something I absolutely must have at this point. I've tried the solo nomad lifestyle for a week, and it isn't for me. The comforts of civilization are simply too good to pass up.

A shack, then. Something simple, somewhere I can store my items, place my workstations, sleep on a future bed (which does exist in my encyclopedia, despite my missing need to sleep), and maybe even something better than a campfire. I saw a furnace in the encyclopedia, maybe that would be helpful?

Well, sitting around and doing nothing won't get this shack, or cabin, if I can manage, built. First off: Wood.

I grabbed my axe from my inventory, and started walking down to the forest. Mentally, I wondered if this is what the early Wild West was in America, just instead of (probably incorrect depictions of) Native Americans, I had to deal with the undead…

"...not the best comparison to make, I suppose."

I could make a good lumberjack. Well, excluding this world's strange rules and my own ability to bend them in some ways, this body was already rather strong. From my own guess, I'm now somewhere between 170 and 175 cm, and somewhere around 60-70 kgs, and my strength (even without physical enhancements) was far above average.

Especially considering I did not look as strong as I felt. Little bit muscular for who I am? Sure. But not strong enough to carry a chest full of wood, that still weighed as much as over a million kilograms of wood. Up a hill, as well.

There is no way Being X would've let me have this body. Even if this was somehow going to be mine eventually, had I not languished in the orphanage and ate nothing but the worst of Imperial rations, he likely would've stunted me regardless, out of some twisted sense of justice.

I sighed after setting down the chest holding an incredible amount of wood. Perhaps I overdid it, but considering how these trees grow back incredibly quick with just a few saplings, especially multiple if you scatter them everywhere you go, then deforestation shouldn't be too much of a worry. Though, that made me curious enough to look into if the trees have roots, which, apparently, they do not.

Not that surprising anymore, I thought, pulling a few stacks of oak logs out and converting most of them into planks. Honestly, I shouldn't need to go woodcutting for a good while now. Atleast, not unless I want to use some other wood.

As for building this cabin, I had a rather simple idea in mind. After all, how hard could putting together a bunch of wood be?

…As it turns out, without a general plan to format the wood, using planks was a bad idea. Instead, I wound up using the logs I chopped as walls, giving a stereotypical wild-western look to my temporary residence. The roof was made of planks, since that was easier to figure out than mashing boards together until it made a solid-enough structure. Besides, this method made my walls more secure, since they were a lot thicker than planks.

I even added end pieces to the ends of logs, so then the inside of the wood logs wouldn't show. Once I had finished making sure the boards were sealed up nicely, and the logs were in place, I took a step back to inspect my work.

"...It's actually not that bad," I commented, examining my work. By the standards of my first life, this would likely be some forgotten structure deep in the American wilderness, while my second life's standards only really let this exist well outside places like Berun and Wien. It might actually be worthy of officer's quarters in occupied territory, and the less said about the Eastern Front's housing, the better.

Sure, there weren't any windows, and only one door, and no heating, plumbing, or electricity, but I should take what I can get. Especially with the night descending on me, I realized. I entered the cabin, looking at the empty space within as I closed the oak door.

Still have no clue how I managed to add glass windows without glass to this door.

The door was placed in one of the corners of the house. It was a rectangular layout, probably large enough to fit a bed, some storage, and a future kitchen area. Probably also a nice fireplace, too. But that's for later.

In terms of lighting, a single torch was able to light up the room decently enough, perched on the wall next to the door. In time, I might be able to get some better lighting, but by then my actual home should be finished. And finally, the one piece of furniture I had, in the opposite corner of the room.

A bed.

Eight days of (mostly) uninterrupted consciousness, regardless of how hard a worker you are, is never advisable. And this was after I had already spent several hours fighting in Amstreldam before-

I shook my head. What has happened is in the past. I'm likely to never see anyone from there again.

…

I glanced at the light coming from the door, seeing the last embers of dusk burn out. A perfect time to try sleeping. Before, when I attempted to sleep, my body refused to consider falling asleep. Potentially, my body knew it needed a more comfortable, more secure space to sleep at.

As I stripped down to my undershirt and undergarments, I began to think about my defenses. Sure, I can wake up immediately if something tries to attack me in the night. Sure, my door should prevent anything from getting in. My cabin is completely sealed, I checked it myself with various enhancements and formulas. But I believe there might still be something. Artillery? Not present. Ambush? I don't have any enemies, aside from the undead and Being… Y? Sure, let's go with that.

Perhaps it's merely an irrational fear. In which case, it's not important and can be… ignored…

Yaawn…

Ah, good, so I can sleep…

Just… need to sleep for a few hours… That's all, sir…

My eyes fluttered open, staring at the ceilingless roof of my cabin.

I actually managed to sleep. And all it took was an actual bed. My eyes wandered across the barren room, envisioning the planned kitchen, the fireplace right in front of the door, and all of the things I'd need to store, well, anything really.

Yes, this would work for now. I might have to add a basement to run plumbing in, if I can, but if I can get this cabin into a proper living space, I wouldn't have to worry about housing passing travelers in my own home. If said travelers exist. That, and it serves as a backup in case my proper house has an unfortunate accident.

"Far too many of those explosive plant monsters… I really need a name for them," I muttered, re-checking my mental checklist of things to do. Now that I think about it, wouldn't paper be a great tool right now? Any civilized society needs it, except perhaps in the futures I have yet to see, and making it shouldn't be… too difficult, right?

Ah, there's already a method for constructing paper! Excellent! Now, what would I need?

Sugarcane.

…Didn't expect sugarcane to be the preferred method of making paper. Why not trees? Did they not figure out how to turn trees into paper in whatever civilization made this in the first place? Hell, who made this first? If I can add construction methods to my Encyclopedia, surely others must have before me, right?

If so, where did they go? I idly thought, exiting my house fully dressed while I had been thinking. I began scanning my surroundings to see if I could somehow spot some sugarcane. Logically, it would have to be in a much warmer climate than this, but considering the rules of this world, wouldn't it also make sense for it to-

Ah, there's some!

A handful of tall reeds, standing up from the shoreline, waved in the wind. Some part of me told myself that this was sugarcane, and some other, more natural part backed them up on that. Based on the mana I felt associated with each part, my soul identified it and the world's mana backed it up.

As I gathered the sugarcane, I pondered the nature of the natural mana that seems to flow everywhere here. If my mana seems to be split between the silver of my soul and the purple of… whatever that extra mana source is, then what of everything else? Everything, even the servant of Being Y (at this point, I might need a new naming scheme for these assholes), had pools of natural mana. They stay the same, and exist completely uninvolved with the lives of their hosts.

Except mine.

I don't have any natural source inside me as far as I can tell, and mine only seems to grow, with a persistent number-

Eleven.

Ah, Albish now, hmm? How inconsistent.

As I was saying, my pool of this mana does not stay stagnant, even when I'm not actively absorbing sources of it. Perhaps this form of mana is this world's form of nature itself, the good and the bad. The light and the dark.

Logically speaking, however, it is more like a fundamental force that holds this world together and keeps its own cycle running. Being X's system required maintenance, and was ultimately flawed. If this world has its own reincarnation cycle, one that could bring me back repeatedly as myself, then it seems to be a much better system than what that bastard has. Unless, of course, I am once again an exception to the world.

Considering I'm completely foreign with my way of utilizing mana, perhaps this is the case.

I tried to leave some sugarcane behind, placing some down to replant itself like saplings. Only for some of them to refuse to take root, leading me to discover that it will only decide to grow when next to water. How troublesome of it.

In any case, I had my sugarcane supply secured, which meant I had two things going for me now. I was one step closer to civilization with the ability to produce paper, and I can finally have sugar again.

If only chocolate existed in this world…

With paper secured, I could start work on gathering resources for my cabin and, eventually, my house. The majority of the planned upgrades and building, I realized however, needs materials I don't currently have. Most of which come from underground.

So, that's why I'm exploring this cave.

Which was a lot bigger than I expected it to be, in all honesty.

Illuminated only with torchlight, I found quite a bit of ore, even though this should've been a small cave that wouldn't make sense to have ores like coal, iron, copper, and even some others like silver and gold.

Very, well, golden gold, I thought, looking at the chunks of raw gold I have picked up. Much like various other parts of this world, gold too is almost perfect. Probably His fault.

I stopped, staring at the chunks in my hand. For the first time, I thought about His mana, the feeling it gives, and compared it to this gold…

"They aren't the same."

That's… interesting. If gold is supposed to be holy, why does this chunk of rock pulled out of some cave quite literally feel-

Why can I feel mana within gold? Silver, too, for tha-

Silver's supposed to be a holy metal as well, isn't it? Is holiness actually a thing in this world, manifesting itself in objects considered to be holy? What does that mean in a magical sense? Is there some aspect to these two metals that influences mana somehow? Why is Being X, the so-called god, not quite the same color of mana as gold? And-

I choked on air for a second.

"...Why is my soul's mana silver then?"

The evidence I had gathered for my existence at this point began to fall into a place my mind refused to believe in. There is no way I could be some holy thing, right? After all, I went against the supposed will of God- which he obviously can't be, so-

I shook my head. I can't think about the implications these rocks have given me while I'm deep underground.

Especially since I nearly got blown up again because of it, I thought, pulling my sword out of the monster that tried to sneak up on me. My reflexes found it first. Honestly, these things that creep up on me and blow themselves up are far too annoying.

The… creeper, I'll call it, began to wither away before me, its mana pool flowing into the orbs that I attract and collect unwillingly. As it vanishes into nothing, I notice something all too familiar.

Something I thought I'd never see again.

At my feet lay a pile of gray powder, and picking it up in my hand told me exactly what it was.

Gunpowder. Real, pungent gunpowder. In a suicide-bombing monster that sneaks up on you…

That raises a whole host of questions, conveniently letting me forget the previous spiral into my own mind over a few rocks. Why do these creepers have gunpowder inside of them? Are they not as natural as I thought they were? If they were some kind of weapon, who created them, and why are they loose?

The sound of water dripping reminded me of my present circumstances.

"Right, I'm still in a cave," I said, looking around. "And I still need to gather a few more things…"

I stared at the solid bar of steel in my hands.

When I came back up from underground, I had brought up a dizzying amount of ores and resources, as well as various stones. Turns out, there's a difference between the dull gray stone I see everywhere, and a few select rocks. I didn't find any precious gems, but I did find some other interesting materials.

Unless this world has an overabundance of certain minerals and metals, I must be sitting on what would be a figurative and literal goldmine of resources. Iron, copper, coal, gold, silver, as well as other metals in lesser quantities, were the main things I found. Two other things were also of note.

Opaque blue crystals, for one, which my soul tells me is Lapis Lazuli, and a glowing red powder that was practically brimming with yet another form of mana, though it wasn't alone in that. Lapis too seemed to hold some capacity for mana, yet whatever it was I couldn't see it. Perhaps it could be something even more esoteric than what magic I've already encountered.

Of course, one of the first things I did was construct that furnace from my Encyclopedia, which apparently lets me both cook food and smelt down ores. Iron made the most sense at the time, and yet what came out wasn't exactly iron…

"This is the same steel that is in my armor."

If the process of making steel was simplified to just this, without even needing to do any of the complicated steps I thought were in steel forging, then what does that mean for whatever civilization exists here? What are the economic implications of this, where steel is so easily manufactured?

I waited for the rest of my gathered iron to smelt into steel, presumably via magical means, before putting in some of the other ores. A few stacks of iron, which normally weighs a back-breaking amount, sat on the newly created counters I made for the cabin's kitchen. Apparently, counters, cabinets, and various kitchen furnishings I thought were commonplace did not exist in the Encyclopedia until now.

The first thing I did was repair my armor, making the scratches and dents vanish and, for some reason, turning the cloth gloves inside the gauntlets into leather. It even added comfortable padding on the fingertips, instead of it being bare metal on my skin. Actually, it somehow mended the strips as well, making it slightly more comfortable.

Standing over the crafting table, which I placed at the end of the kitchen counters, I figured it was time to get some proper protection. Sure, I can get gunpowder, which might invalidate this armor soon enough, but since most dangers to me have weaponry of some kind, I had to properly prepare for that. I'd rather not die because my knee wasn't properly protected against an arrow.

Apparently, it only needed seven steel ingots. Actually, would people here just call this iron? Well, whatever it is, seven is enough to create an entire set of leg armor. While I imagine putting it on would be difficult, apparently I could put it on from my inventory without doing any of the proper strapping-in it would take. As for the armor itself?

Despite not using leather, the armor was attached to leather pants. The armor consisted of a thigh piece that stretched from a little bit above the knee to below the hip, covering most of the thigh. Following that was the piece on the knee, which was probably the most complicated piece of armor yet, though it was only a few plates. It protected most of the knee, except for the backside. The final piece covered most of my lower leg, but was designed (much like the rest of the armor so far) for mobility and bending around.

I thought the part of my uniform under my belt would've been tucked under, but instead it remained, hiding the upper part of the new armor. Almost like a skirt…

Despite the fact that my arms were still vulnerable, there weren't any armor options in the Encyclopedia aside from the boots and the helmet, which I wound up constructing as well. Surely someone must've seen the issue with not having proper arm protection during the era this seems to be emulating. Perhaps it's closer to the Francois' cuirassier mages. Not that they lived long enough to be reinforced like normal mages. In order for armor to be viable in either of my two other lives, it'd have to be not only so mass producible that any damaged pieces could be swapped out for a new one, easily repaired in the field, and must also actually protect the user. Which…

I looked down at my steel armor, then at the crafting table and the furnace. I could think of several different aspects of labor that were sidestepped in the creation of this, and if iron is as abundant in this world as it seems to be… Still, that'd have to be a massive industrial complex to support most mages with full armor kits on a wide enough scale to matter. Or less if you simply wanted to supply only a few battalions with some of my training, and use them like the 203rd was used…

In any case, the boots and helmet were one single piece this time. Well, the boots were made into one solid piece, but were made up of several plates, again designed with mobility in mind. It also went up over the bottom of the lower leg armor, completely covering the ankles. Clearly, someone learned of Achilles and decided to not let that happen again.

As for the helmet, it…

It looked very similar to the Stahlhelms of the Empire, however the sides were a bit lower down and covered slightly more of the face near the eyes. There was also a bar stretching down the middle, barely reducing my visibility but providing some facial protection. Probably the least surprising one, though it did have a leather strap produced from nowhere to keep it on my head. Thankfully, it seems to be accommodating to hair, as I didn't have to adjust it at all.

With armor out of the way, I improved my tools and weaponry, getting one of each thing for now. Oddly enough, with my armor filled out, my sword came with a sheath, and I think my axe and spear have loops on the back for them now, as well as something for a shield. Which I promptly constructed.

Momentarily, I was worried that I had made a mistake and wasted material on a heavy shield when the rectangular object appeared, but I was proved wrong when it felt extremely light in my hands. It seems like it didn't lose much of the protection with the strange loss of weight, so the shield should still be effective. Probably. Until someone with a firearm shows up.

If those things exist somewhere, I thought mentally. If gunpowder can exist, why have I not seen any construction methods for firearms yet? I looked through the methods created, and realized why. It's all still explosives and fireworks. Very early uses of gunpowder…

Whoever made those Creeper bombs must've been unable to figure out how the gun aspect of gunpowder works, and everyone else hasn't either. How do you even make gunpowder? I know it was sulfur, and charcoal was also used, but what else would there be?

Regardless, I was somewhat confident now that nobody, except for me, knew about firearms. If I can figure out the proper method for gunpowder construction, I could create a firearm construction method. But not right now.

Right now, I need to improve my cabin.

I had to expand the roof a little, but it was worth it.

For the price of some coal and water from a seemingly infinite water source, one can create a warm bath.

While I wasn't able to figure out how to make soap just yet, I desperately needed a bath after nearly a week of wandering, fighting, and occasionally rinsing off in a river. In the process of making utilities suitable for civilized use, I had invented several different construction methods. Oh, and inventing plumbing.

Without the use of lead, of course, I thought mentally, splashing warm water over my hair. The warm water of the bathtub was actually heated by the eternal campfire in the new fireplace, which was placed right across from the front door. It's a little bit clunky, but that's a reasonable price for a taste of modern cleanliness.

Even on the frontlines, this would be a bit of a luxury.

Water can apparently be infinite in this world, which I am sure would make water prices rock bottom for my previous lives. In my case, however, it meant infinite clean water, which after creating all the piping I need for getting water everywhere I need to in this cabin, or I suppose house now, though that really only meant the new sink and the bathroom added behind the fireplace. By extending the house a little bit from the opposite wall, I was able to add a bathroom and stairs down into the newly installed basement, where all the plumbing can be accessed, along with anything I decide to put down there, out of sight.

Getting out of the bath, I looked in the (also newly created, how did people make sure they looked nice before now?) mirror, staring at the woman before me. The traces of malnourishment were gone, yet the face I saw still looked… elegant, I suppose? It'd be what I'd want to look at in my first life, not on my face.

In other words, I died and became more attractive. Isn't there something about becoming more popular once you die, like that one artist? I thought, drying off my hair and body and donning the simple grayish-white tunic and brown leather pants I created. While my self-regenerating uniform from when I arrived here was nice, it would give some people the wrong idea. Although I still elected to wear the jacket, in case someone from my second life followed me through, with the medal still pinned to the chest of it.

Food was still an issue, but I'd be able to figure that out soon enough. Apparently the grass seems to occasionally leave wheat seeds behind, instead of grass like it should, so getting wheat is feasible. I also still have the carrot from that one undead from the cave. That, and some of the local livestock, should be enough to make a farming career that'll keep me fed for however long I'll live.

…How long am I going to live for in this world anyways?

||𝙹⚍ ⍑ᔑ⍊ᒷ ⎓ᔑ╎ꖎᒷ↸ ᒲᒷ, ∴⍑ᒷꖎ!¡.

╎ ᔑ!¡𝙹ꖎ𝙹⊣╎⨅ᒷ, ||𝙹⚍∷ ᒲᔑ⋮ᒷᓭℸ ̣ ||, ʖ⚍ℸ ̣ !-

ᒷリ𝙹⚍⊣⍑!

╎ ∴╎ꖎꖎ ⍑ᒷᔑ∷ リ𝙹 ᒲ𝙹∷ᒷ 𝙹⎓ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ.

ᔑリ𝙹ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ ∴╎ꖎꖎ ℸ ̣ ᔑꖌᒷ ||𝙹⚍∷ !¡ꖎᔑᓵᒷ.

⎓𝙹∷ ||𝙹⚍?

↸ᔑᒲリᔑℸ ̣ ╎𝙹リ.