The morning mist of the Jura Forest still clung to the roots of ancient trees when the metallic sound of tools echoed with cadence and rhythm for the first time through the streets of Avalon. It was no longer the erratic noise of confused beings striking stones at random, but something bordering on industrial coordination. Sirzechs Gremory walked along the main avenue, which he had mentally dubbed the Crimson Way, observing how the white marble reacted to the dawn light. He did not use his Power of Destruction to sculpt the buildings; instead, he used [Visionary] to create the molds and raw materials, leaving the heavy lifting to the Hollows themselves. He believed that sweat and physical effort were the necessary catalysts for those empty souls to begin developing a connection with the soil they trod upon. The reincarnated human knew that if he simply wished the city into existence, it would be nothing but a hollow stage, devoid of its own life.
Grayfia Lucifuge did not share this sentimentality. For her, the construction of Avalon was a high-precision logistical operation that was, according to her analytical reports, functioning at only 60% of the desired efficiency. She floated a few inches above the ground, her ability [Gabriel] processing trillions of data points regarding the magical density of the atmosphere and the subjects' energy consumption. She stopped before a group of Hollows attempting to erect what would be the city's first research center and library. The Hollows, now wearing simple grey linen tunics that Grayfia had manifested to standardize the nation's appearance, immediately halted their work upon sensing the cold aura of the Housekeeper. She pointed to a column being installed with a tilt of a mere two degrees. Without a word, Grayfia froze the base of the column until it cracked, forcing the workers to understand that in a city designed by a god, imperfection was an affront. She gave them an ultimatum: technical perfection was the only path to evolution.
Sirzechs approached the site and saw the discouragement in the shadows of the Hollows. He intervened, not to undermine Grayfia, but to provide the necessary counterbalance. He explained to the workers that the column didn't need to be perfect just because Grayfia ordered it, but because that library would hold the knowledge that would allow them to stop being mere forest monsters and become the masters of their own destiny. Sirzechs then manifested a small sphere of light containing conceptual images of Earth's great libraries—Alexandria, the Vatican, and modern structures of glass and steel. He allowed the Hollows to touch that light. The visual impact and the promise of a grand future caused the magicules within the Hollows to vibrate with a new intensity. Physical fatigue seemed to dissipate in the face of inspiration. Grayfia merely observed, noting in her mental clipboard that Lord Sirzechs' "abstract incentive" had increased productivity by 22%—a data point she reluctantly accepted as functional.
As the library rose, the civil sector began to take the first shapes of a real economy. The Hollow who was once merely Number 07 now possessed a small marble structure with a counter facing the street. He spent his days experimenting with different types of seeds and the heat of magic stones. He still didn't speak in full sentences, but the way he handled the bread dough demonstrated a growing sophistication. Other Hollows began to approach him, not just out of hunger, but due to an instinctive attraction to the order his work exuded. Sirzechs observed this interaction and realized that Avalon's society was forming from the bottom up. He decided it was time to take the next step in infrastructure: the creation of a magicule circulation system. He channeled his infinite stock through [Visionary], creating "veins" of crimson crystal that ran beneath the marble streets. This system would provide light, heat, and energy for any tool or machine Avalon's future scientists might create, eliminating the need for primitive fuels.
However, progress brought new challenges. Grayfia brought a concerning report to Sirzechs late in the afternoon while they both watched the sunset from the balcony of what would become the Gremory Palace. She explained that by anchoring their souls in professions and purposes, the Hollows were becoming brighter targets in the forest's spiritual plane. Irrational monsters and hungry entities were drawn to the "light" of consciousness that Avalon emanated. The Guard, composed of those five aggressive Hollows, was being pushed to the limit. They spent their nights fighting off incursions of Direwolves and giant serpents trying to breach Grayfia's icy barrier. One of these guards, who had begun to stand out with a longer mask and bone horns, was showing signs of a violent evolution. He didn't just want to protect; he wanted to hunt.
Sirzechs looked at Grayfia and asked if she believed they should intervene directly. Grayfia replied that if they stepped in for every minor skirmish, the Hollows would never develop the thick skin necessary to survive the true predators of this world. She suggested that instead of fighting for them, Sirzechs should provide the first technological advancement: weapons capable of channeling ambient magicules. Sirzechs agreed and, focusing on memories of fantasy weapons and futuristic tech, projected a central forge. He didn't create finished weapons; he created the concept of "Magical Smithing." He summoned one of the Hollows who displayed brute physical strength and an uncommon resistance to heat, placing him before an obsidian anvil. Sirzechs handed him a hammer pulsing with the Power of Destruction in a latent state. He told the new blacksmith that his task was to shape Avalon's defense, transforming raw energy into blades that could cut through the very souls of invaders.
Night fell over Avalon, but the city did not go dark. The crimson veins beneath the marble glowed with a soft pulse, illuminating the deserted streets. The sound of the hammer striking the anvil and the aroma of baking bread became the new soundtrack for that corner of the Jura Forest. Sirzechs Gremory felt the foundation was solid. He wasn't just a human in a god's body; he was the engine of a growing utopia. Grayfia, at his side, closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing herself a rare expression of satisfaction as she saw the chaos of the forest being tamed by her hand and her sovereign's vision. Avalon was ceasing to be an idea and becoming a living organism, and every Hollow who discovered a new purpose was proof that the chosen path, though slow and difficult, was the only one that would create a nation worthy of lasting forever.