Chapter 3: Building Upon Blood

Loki turned, not waiting for an answer. He walked quickly, heading back through the trees towards the clearing that was the center of their hope. Behind him, he heard hurried movements. The two men carefully but awkwardly lifted Einar's slumped body. One held his shoulder, the other his feet, trying to keep the shattered leg from moving.

The journey back felt much longer. Every step was a risk. Groans of pain escaped Einar's lips each time one of the men stumbled slightly on the wet leaf litter. Astrid walked beside them, her face pale with tension, one hand continuously pressing the cloth to Einar's wound, while the other pushed away obstructing branches.

Loki arrived at the camp first. His breath hitched, a mixture of running and panic. He didn't stop. His mind was focused on the system interface that only he could see. With a mental command, he opened the building menu. He selected the hut icon with a cross sign over it.

By the time Einar and the others finally arrived at the clearing and carefully laid him on a bed of moss, Loki had already chosen a location. He pointed to the flattest, driest patch of ground, slightly away from the fire pit. On that spot, a translucent blue outline of a small hut appeared, glowing with a faint light in the deepening twilight.

"Build!" Loki commanded, his voice sharp in the tense air.

The two men who had helped carry Einar, along with a woman who had previously been gathering stones, immediately moved. No questions. No hesitation. They approached the pile of materials and began working on the virtual blueprint.

They laid foundation stones along the blue outline, and the stones seemed to instantly settle perfectly, forming a sturdy base in seconds. Then, they began lifting wooden beams. Every beam they placed seemed to find its position instantly, interlocking with a precision impossible for ordinary human hands to achieve in such a short time. Walls began to form, wooden planks perfectly interlocking.

Loki watched this eerie miracle with mixed feelings. On one hand, a hut was born from the ground before his eyes, a tangible proof of his power. Yet, on the other hand, a few steps from this clean, orderly construction process, Einar lay on the moss, his blood still seeping, his breathing shallow.

Loki's gaze shifted from the quickly rising hut walls to Astrid's face, furrowed with concentration as she continued to press Einar's wound. He saw the brutal contrast. His system could perfectly create inanimate structures, but it couldn't stop the blood flowing from a living human body. The power he possessed felt so immense, yet at the same time, so cold and indifferent to the suffering before him.

Moments later, the last plank for the roof slotted into place. The blue outline that served as the hut's blueprint flickered once, then vanished. Before them now stood a sturdy small building, smelling of freshly cut pine. It looked simple, even crude, but functional. A miracle born of desperation.

"Bring him in," Loki said, his voice quiet.

The two men carefully lifted Einar again and carried him through the newly formed doorway. Loki and Astrid followed behind. The hut's interior was dim and spartan. There were only two low wooden cots made from scrap wood, and a packed dirt floor. However, the place offered protection from the wind, and the atmosphere felt calmer and more controlled.

They laid Einar on one of the cots. The man still groaned softly, his eyes closed in pain.

Within this cramped space, Astrid took command with natural authority. She knelt beside the cot, her hands never leaving Einar's wound. "We need clean water, now," she said to one of the women standing anxiously near the door. "And more cloth strips, the cleanest you can find."

The woman nodded and immediately rushed out.

Loki stood in the doorway, watching Astrid expertly begin to examine the wound more closely. He felt like an outsider peeking in. He had created this place with a thought, but here, where the real fight to save a life was happening, he was utterly useless.

Loki stood frozen, witnessing his own inadequacy. He could conjure buildings from thin air, but he couldn't stop blood or mend bones. The feeling of helplessness was like poison, paralyzing him. Yet, amidst that despair, a thought emerged, born from the cold logic of a gamer. If the building was part of the system, then it must have a function.

He refocused his mind on the virtual interface. He selected the {Healer's Hut} icon that now glowed actively in his menu. A small submenu appeared before him, with only one option.

{Assign Healer}

His eyes immediately fell on Astrid. The woman was still calmly cleaning Einar's wound, her movements steady despite their precarious situation. The choice was clear. With a mental command, Loki selected Astrid for the task.

There was no flash of light or magical sound. What happened was far more subtle and unsettling. Loki saw Astrid pause for a fraction of a second. Her eyes flickered once, as if a long, complex thought had just passed through her mind in an instant. When she moved again, there was a newfound confidence and precision in her every action. Hesitation had vanished, replaced by the focus of an expert.

The system didn't give him healing magic. It gave him knowledge.

"I need something for him to bite down on," Astrid said, her voice now sharp and authoritative. She looked at one of the men. "A strip of leather from your belt. Quickly."

The man swiftly cut a piece of leather and gave it to Astrid, who then placed it between Einar's teeth. "Bite down on this," she whispered to Einar. "As hard as you can."

She then looked at the other two men. "Hold his shoulders and hips. Don't let him move, no matter what."

The two men immediately obeyed, pressing Einar's trembling body to the wooden cot.

Loki stood in the doorway, his heart pounding. He knew what was coming next. Astrid placed one hand above Einar's knee and the other on his ankle. She took a deep breath, then pulled with one strong, steady motion.

There was a wet, sickening crunch of bone.

Einar's muffled scream, choked by the leather strip, filled the small room, a sound of pure agony that made Loki's hair stand on end.

Loki did not look away. He forced himself to watch. To witness. This was the cost. This was his responsibility. This was the reality of being a Jarl.

Einar's muffled scream finally faded into a long groan, before vanishing altogether as the man succumbed to the pain and slipped into darkness. The silence that followed felt heavier and thicker than before. Inside the dim hut, the only sounds were their ragged breaths and the tearing of cloth.

Loki still stood in the doorway, his muscles rigid. The echo of that scream seemed etched into his skull, a silent reverberation of the suffering he had caused and witnessed.

Beside the cot, Astrid worked tirelessly. Her usually alert face now looked pale with exhaustion, but her hands moved with unnerving steadiness. She took two straight pieces of wood that one of the men had prepared, then carefully placed them on either side of Einar's leg. With the remaining cloth strips, she began to tie the makeshift splint with tight, neat knots.

The two men who had held Einar now stood awkwardly in a corner of the hut, their faces still pale. They avoided looking directly at the injured leg. They simply stared at the floor, as if the fear and horror from moments ago were still trapped in this small room with them.

After the last knot was tied, Astrid knelt beside the cot. Her shoulders slumped slightly, her breath escaping in one long sigh that showed her weariness. She wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her dirty hand, leaving a faint smudge of dirt on her skin. The most brutal work was done.

Loki finally forced his feet to move. He stepped in from the doorway, approaching the cot slowly. The soft sound of his footsteps on the dirt floor seemed incredibly loud in the hut's silence. He stopped at the foot of the cot, his eyes fixed on the makeshift bandage wrapping Einar's leg.

He had to ask. He had to know.

"Will he survive?" Loki's voice was hoarse, almost a whisper.

Astrid didn't look at him immediately. Her eyes were still fixed on her handiwork, assessing it with a critical gaze. "The bone is straight," she answered softly, her voice flat and tired. "But the wound is open. If dirt gets in, or if fever comes, his life is still in danger."

She finally raised her head and looked at Loki, her sharp eyes seeming to pierce the Jarl's mask Loki tried to maintain.

"The next few days are the most crucial," she continued. "He must be kept warm, and if he regains consciousness, he needs food and clean water."

The words offered no relief. It was a brutal and honest diagnosis. One problem had been overcome, only to be replaced by another, quieter, equally deadly threat: infection and starvation.

Loki nodded slowly at Astrid, a silent acknowledgment of the heavy burden now resting on the woman. He turned and stepped out of the Healer's Hut. The cool evening air felt like a slap to his face, helping to clear his mind from the stuffy, suffering atmosphere inside.

The other three inhabitants, two men and one woman, stood awkwardly near the pile of wood. Their efficient rhythm of work had vanished, replaced by an anxious silence. They looked at Loki as he approached, their eyes seeking direction, seeking a certainty that Loki did not possess.

However, he knew he had to provide it. He stopped before them, allowing the silence to linger for a moment. His tone, when he finally spoke, was lower and heavier than before.

"Einar is resting," he said. "Astrid is tending to him. The work must continue."

He looked at one of the men. "You. Take one of those axes. Stand at the forest edge and keep watch. Let us know if anything approaches."

The man seemed relieved to have a clear task. He nodded, took an axe, and walked to his position.

Loki then turned to the remaining two. "You two. We still need more wood before it gets completely dark. Continue your work, but..." He paused for a moment, making sure he had their full attention. "Look up. Always check the branches above you before felling. Don't take risks. Understand?"

Both nodded solemnly and returned to work, this time with much more careful and vigilant movements.

With the tasks distributed, Loki walked to the stone circle Astrid had prepared. He crouched down, taking out a flint and steel from his system supplies. After a few attempts, a spark finally caught the pile of dry tinder. Thin smoke plumed, and a small, fragile fire began to glow. He patiently added small twigs until the flame was strong enough to consume a larger piece of wood.

The fire blazed, its flickering light pushing back the lengthening shadows, a small center of warmth in the vast, indifferent wilderness. A fragile order had returned.

Night fell swiftly and mercilessly, as if a thick black cloth had been dropped over the forest. The darkness beyond the firelight felt absolute and filled with strange sounds. The warmth from the bonfire became the only solace in a world that suddenly felt so cold and hostile.

The wood gathering eventually stopped. The four healthy inhabitants now sat near the fire, their backs slightly hunched with fatigue. No one spoke. A heavy silence enveloped them, broken only by the crackling of burning wood. Their faces, illuminated by the firelight, looked tired and anxious, the shadows of the day's events still clinging tightly.

Loki stood slightly apart from them, his back to the fire, staring into the deep darkness. His stomach churned, a sharp, empty ache he could no longer ignore. Hunger.

The new reality hit him hard.

He had been so obsessed with shelter, with building efficiency, with Einar's medical crisis, that he had forgotten the most basic need. Food. His system supplies only contained basic tools, not rations or preserved food. They had nothing.

He glanced back at his silent people. They must be feeling it too. The exhaustion from hard work and the fear from the incident must have drained their last reserves of energy. He looked at their faces one by one. They were his responsibility. Their health, their safety, and their empty stomachs.