The next morning, Oliver woke and headed toward the mouth of the cave. As he reached the entrance, he stopped dead, his eyes falling on a pile of wooden utensils Emmet had carved, neatly arranged on a sturdy wooden shelf. Looking around, he saw even more furniture scattered about; the craftsmanship was elegant and precise. It baffled him how Emmet had achieved such a finish without modern machinery or power tools. The chairs were built without a single nail or screw, yet they were incredibly sturdy, clearly capable of supporting a great deal of weight. In Oliver's mind he knew it was only a matter of time until Emmet would turn sticks and rocks into a fully functional base and workshop.
As Oliver stepped outside, his mouth dropped in total astonishment, it seems Emmet had already started on his base making mission. Standing in the center of their clearing was a wooden house—a structure that simply hadn't existed when he went to sleep.
How the hell did he manage that? Oliver wondered, his mind reeling at the impossible structure.
He stepped inside to explore the impossible building. Entering the first room, he found it fully furnished with only the stove missing. Though everything was crafted from wood, the level of detail was breathtaking. The chairs and table were accented with silk, adding a touch of luxury to the rustic decor, and a large window featured a delicate silk sheath that fluttered in the morning breeze.
"Wow, this place is beautiful," he whispered. In the corner, he spotted a couch piled high with silk pillows. He blinked in disbelief. "Is that a couch? Did he stay up all night building all of this? I knew he was handy, but this is insane."
Tracing his fingers across the smooth, interlocking wooden walls, Oliver continued his tour. He found six identical rooms, each furnished with a bed, two silk pillows, an end table, a dresser, and a closet. Each room featured its own window to let in the natural light.
"Alright, this is just crazy," Oliver muttered to himself. It was indeed a feat of madness for one person to build an entire furnished home in a single night, but if anyone was capable of such a feat, it was Emmet. He knew his friend was an expert in biology, agriculture, mathematics, physics, architecture, wood working, literally anything that had to do with establishing a settlement in the medieval times since he was in love with fantasy.
Walking back outside, the scent of burning wood caught his attention. He followed the smell to find that Emmet had constructed a bathhouse. He had created an artificial hot spring using clay, stone, and wood to form the pool. Using bamboo, he had engineered a piping system to channel water from the river with high efficiency. The design was ingenious: a person only had to stoke the wood stove and, once the water reached the right temperature, pull a lever to fill the pool.
"He really thought of everything, the crazy bastard," Oliver chuckled.
Near the entrance of the bathhouse, Oliver noticed a message etched into a flat piece of stone. It read:
Gone out to find some iron ore or mineral-rich dirt to make tools and soap. I'll be back in a few days. Enjoy the new house! Tell the knight lady I'm sorry and I'll make it up to her when I get back. I put the building together using interlocking joints, so it's rock solid. Also, the knight's sword is in the second room, i used it for carving the wood :). Love, Emmet.
Oliver leaned back, letting out a heavy sigh as the sparring finally ceased. While he still had to spend the coming days training with Alisa to master his **Soul Bound Blade** and keep a very close eye on Violet, at least they no longer had to sleep in the dirt of a cave.
After explaining to Violet that her "master" was away on a supply run, Oliver turned his full attention to Alisa. Once the knight had recovered her sword from the second room, her professional demeanor returned, though she remained wary of the "absent architect" who had built their new home.
"You possess a weapon that mirrors your strength, yet you stand like a peasant holding a pitchfork," Alisa remarked, her turquoise eyes sharp as she paced in the clearing. "If we are to survive the Great White Forest and the **Four Great Kings**, you must learn to move with the blade, not against it."
At her signal, Oliver summoned the **Soul Bound Blade**. The matte-black steel materialized in his hand like a solidified shadow. The session was brutal. Alisa forced him to hold a single high-guard stance for an hour, explaining that because his weapon scaled with his strength, any lapse in mental focus would cause the blade's balance to shift, making it unwieldy.
Next, she placed her ornate broadsword on a stump. "Mimic it," she commanded. Oliver succeeded in copying the shape perfectly, but as he swung, Alisa shook her head. "You have the shape, but you lack the 'weight of experience' required to wield a broadsword. Power is useless without the bone-deep knowledge of how to use it."
They moved into light sparring. Alisa moved with the fluid, lethal grace of a seasoned knight, easily parrying Oliver's clumsy strikes. "You have the power of a Hero," she chided, disarming him for the third time with a flick of her wrist, "but the technique of a child."
As the sun reached its peak, they retreated to the porch of the house to rest. Violet watched them, peeling fruit with a small knife, her purple eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and lingering fear.
"Your friend... Emmet," Alisa said, wiping sweat from her brow as she admired the interlocking joints of the porch. "Was he a renowned craftsman in your world? Even among the highest artisans of my kingdom, I have never seen a structure of this quality built in a single night without magic."
Oliver nodded, glancing at Emmet's stone message. "He wasn't a professional, no. But he had a hobby of 'reliving medieval times' with his father. They would go into the woods and create everything they needed from scratch. After years of that, he just knows how things fit together. Now that he's a Hero, those skills are only going to become more efficient."
Alisa looked toward the dark tree line. "He went to find iron and soap. In this forest, that is a death wish for almost anyone. If he returns, I will have words with him about his 'discipline.' But for now, Oliver... again. Pick up your sword."
As the afternoon sparring continued, Oliver's Hero abilities began to kick in. He started to predict Alisa's movements, his eyes tracking the path of her blade with uncanny speed. However, his body wasn't yet trained to match his sight; he could see the strike coming, but he could barely move fast enough to stop it.
*Clang!* Another heavy strike rattled Oliver's teeth. He blocked it but reeled back, gasping for air and drenched in sweat.
"That's enough for today," Alisa said, a genuine smile softening her stern face. "You did well. You are improving at an alarming rate. You are a truly competent Hero."
"Well, that's good to hear," Oliver panted. He dismissed his sword, watching as the steel turned into a black, shadow-like tendril before being absorbed back into his skin.
The two of them retreated to the newly built bathhouse. The steam from the hot spring was a welcome relief, soaking away the fatigue of the day. Oliver leaned his head back against the smooth wood of the pool's edge, eyes closed.
"Oliver, can I ask you something personal?" Alisa inquired, her voice echoing softly in the steam.
"Ask away," Oliver replied, finally feeling his muscles start to relax.
"What do you plan on doing once you leave this place? Do you plan on joining a nation, becoming a mercenary for glory, or perhaps settling down in a small town?"
Oliver opened one eye. "Do I really have those options? Don't kingdoms usually force Heroes to fight their wars? Isn't that why your party was sent here?"
"Usually, yes," Alisa admitted, her voice relaxed. "But the people who summoned you are dead. You don't have to join anyone's side if you don't want to. You could even join my nation. Our King is married to a former Hero, so I'm sure he would treat you with the respect you deserve, unlike other lands."
"I was planning to just live out my life," Oliver mused. "I don't mind fighting if I have to, as long as it's not against some ancient Demon Lord or a Great Dragon. Guarding a small city against bandits or monsters sounds more like my speed."
"Then you should consider the Holy Knight Order," Alisa said softly. "We specialize in hunting heretics and beasts that threaten the innocent. You'd use your power to its fullest without being used for someone's profit. But... let's think about that when we actually get out of here."