Jacob scraped the chalk against the hard, packed earth. The sound was thin and dry, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that had fallen over the work crew. He felt the weight of their eyes, Arthur's steady, patient gaze, Caleb's eager curiosity, and the quiet, assessing looks from Ellis and Tom.
Behind them, Sera sat on the wagon, her silent presence a source of steady calm.
He was supposed to be drawing the foundation circuit.
In his head, he could visualize the ideal layout: a complex, multi-layered weave of Reinforcement and Heat runes, carefully layered to create a self-sustaining floor enchantment. It required perfect corners, overlapping but non-interfering pathways, and multiple anchor points where the fieldstones would sit.
Based on his gamer knowledge, this circuit was necessary to keep the ground warm enough to simulate an endless summer, preventing the cold Ruvkan soil from leeching the enchantment's power.
Jacob placed the chalk point down and started the first line, focusing on the sheer logic of the flow.
A single heat rune here, branching into three pressure-dampening lines there. If the mana flows at 10units/second, the heat output must be 5 degrees higher than ambient.
He finished the first corner. It was mathematically perfect, a rigid, right-angle masterpiece. But as he stepped back, he frowned. It felt weak. Fragile. Like a tower built entirely on paper calculations.
He knelt down and wiped the perfect chalk lines away with his hand, erasing an hour of mental design in a single smear.
"What was wrong with it, son?" Arthur asked, his voice low and concerned.
Jacob took a deep breath, looking not at the blueprint in his mind, but at the piece of fieldstone waiting nearby. It was rough, covered in lichen, and utterly imperfect.
Gerald's words echoed back to him:It's not about how perfectly you draw the lines, Jacob. It's about how clearly you tell the magic what you want it to do.
He picked up the chalk again. This time, he didn't focus on the numbers. He focused on the feeling he needed.
Warmth. Deep, enduring, root-nurturing warmth. The feeling of soil that has never known frost. A feeling of eternal growth.
He began to draw. The lines were thicker now, the corners rounded, and the connections were less like mathematical vectors and more like branching roots. He drew a single large Warming rune, not as a symbol, but as a central, pulsing heart.
Instead of rigid Reinforcement lines, he drew curving pathways that simply felt strong. He ignored the precise distances his old theories demanded and instead drew the circuit to flow around the existing lumps and bumps in the packed dirt.
It was messy. It was inefficient. But when he finished the outline of the foundation, the design pulsed in his mana-sight with a low, contented thrum. It wasn't a forced solution, it was a suitable arrangement.
"Caleb," Jacob commanded, rising to his feet. "Start the trench detail here, following this outer line. It needs to be a foot deep for the drainage stones."
Caleb, momentarily distracted by the strange, wavy chalk lines, quickly snapped to attention. "Got it."
"Ellis, Tom," Jacob continued, pointing to the posts. "We need to set the four corner posts first, exactly on these four points. Arthur, you lay the foundation stones on the curved paths I've drawn. Fill every line with a stone, no gaps. The stone holds the magic here, not the dirt."
Jacob had simplified his instructions because the complex logic was now handled by his visualization. The men didn't need to know the heat differential; they just needed to follow the lines.
Arthur, studying the unusual drawing, raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. "Curved lines for a foundation, boy? Are you trying to make the walls lean?"
"The enchantment doesn't care about straight lines, Father," Jacob explained, finally verbalizing his breakthrough. "It cares about the flow, and this flows."
Arthur grinned, the corner of his mouth turning up in a look of pride. He picked up the first heavy fieldstone. "Well, let's see what your flow is worth."
The labor began in earnest. The rhythmic scraping of shovels, the heavy thud of posts being set into the earth, and the low, steady harmony of Sera's voice blended into a single sound of effort and magic.
Jacob was everywhere at once, supervising the work and enchanting the fieldstones with the simple Heat intent, ensuring they would absorb and transmit the energy perfectly once the circuit was finished.
He was building a temple to his own intent.
Arthur and the hands moved planks and posts with speed, their movements efficient and practiced. By sundown, the perimeter posts were sunk deep, the trenches were finished, and the curved, stone-filled paths Jacob had drawn were fully embedded in the earth. The structure was just a low skeleton, but it felt anchored.
Jacob knelt one last time at the central point of the design. This was the focus. He gently laid a small, smooth river stone down and placed his hand over it. He funneled mana into the stone, pushing it along the crude, curving pathways of the fieldstone foundation. He didn't think about joules or output; he visualized the field as a bowl of warm, steaming soup.
With a low, almost silent thrum, the circuit activated.
A faint, localized heat rose from the packed dirt. It wasn't enough to feel with their clothes on, but Jacob saw the instant, subtle change in the air above the stone path: the humidity dropped, and the chill was chased away. The ground, which had been icy just an hour ago, was now pleasantly warm to the touch.
Arthur came over, wiping sweat from his brow. He placed his hand on the foundation stones. His eyes widened slightly. "You've done it, son. It's solid. Not a single leak."
"It flows, Father," Jacob confirmed, standing up. He felt exhausted, but profoundly satisfied. He had used less mana than his old, rigid design would have required.
He looked at the half-finished structure. The hard work was done; the enchantment was set. He had used the knowledge of a peasant farmer and the heart of a mage.
He was building a temple to his own intent.