“Careful, my lady!” Vesiphis grabbed the collar of Agwyn’s robe, foiling the girl’s master plan to run off to adventure for the 8th time that day.

The little girl whined, for she rightfully demanded to lead an investigation on precisely how magic was used to build the dhionne shelters. However, the half-finished structures looked much too rickety to let the clan’s only princess wander around inside.

Truth be told, Elrhain was also curious. But he had better self-control than his weird roommate.

The boy threw another strip of dried meat towards the drooling Alleigh. The husky was as silly as ever, its ears drooping pitifully the moment Agwyn jumped off its back for other fun things.

So Elrhain could only cheer it up with lots of food and intense head pats, much to the amazement, or possibly horror, of the locals.

The men and women of the settlement strummed and thrummed all over the mountainside, only sending some occasional uneasy glances towards the visitors. They all seemed to be from the same tribe judging by their crests, and they were all positively terrified of Alleigh, for God knows what.

But that didn’t stop the local dhionne from doing what had to be done.

The shouts of men breaking open boulders warred with the cries of the women dragging up giant bundles of timbre to where the new village was gradually taking shape.

Even the lush flora couldn’t keep the dust and soot from rising, as the construction was in full gear.

Dhionne didn’t need cranes and bulldozers. Their sturdy physique and mastery of spells were enough for any sort of grunt work.

They stacked stones inside the holes they had dug on the mountain floor as the foundation. Then, they inserted wooden stumps wherever necessary as pillars or beams. Clay and mud served as a simple cement, filling the gaps between the planks and rocks, which acted as the walls.

Some dhionne used dried grass and straws to line their roofs, while others used fresh green leaves, each bigger than Elrhain’s body, to keep their new homes protected from the wind and rain.

Finally, giant vines taken from the colossal trees of the primaeval forests of Earthloch bound together the ramshackle structures as the last line of defence.

Elrhain felt a tug on his sleeve and saw Agwyn pointing in a particular direction with bated breath. Only to see one teen girl lifting up boulders with nothing but unguided manna coursing through her meridians.

‘Holy electrolytes!’

Yet, he knew this was but the most unrefined use of manna. It was something which only mortals without proper cultivation techniques employed, mortals who accounted for the vast majority of Earthloch’s servant population.

However, what amazed Elrhain the most was the myriad of magic the cultivator dhionnes employed, their efficiency far higher than a crude servant’s.

It wasn’t anything new to the other children, but even the most basic spells that could raise a rock spike or shape mud into walls were highly novel to the two foreign souls.

Though one fact Elrhain had just learnt about spells from Vesiphis disappointed him greatly when he speculated some of their possible uses.

It would seem that once a dhionne cultivated manna, they could not just immediately manifest magical effects however they wished.

Spells needed strict chants and gestures to cast correctly. Only with many cycles of practice could untalented servants manipulate the effects of common spells, such as [Raise Rock] or [Mud Shaping] to a certain extent.

According to Vesiphis, the kid proud of his vaster cultivation knowledge, only earthen realmers and above could even dream of freely manipulating elemental magic solely by their will alone.

And even then, it was a chore to do that without sufficient training.

Unless one was a Naeman witch, of course. Individuals who could simply sneeze, and it would mysteriously turn an onion into a living, breathing unicorn.

Mundane spells for ordinary mortals depended not on the uniqueness of their cultivation roots or if they chose to properly ignite all their nodes to reach the earthen realm.

They could, of course, do that, and it would increase the effectiveness of the spell.

But spells didn’t need all that sophistry.

They had pre-selected steps that a dhionne needed to follow, nodes and channels in certain regions of their totemic souls they had to activate to create extremely specific frames. After which, the process would actualize the effect of the spell for a price of manna.

Almost like pre-packaged scripts written in python 91.01 that anybody could learn to use, regardless of if they even understood the logic.

They could even put fire manna into water nodes and still cast water spells with them. But obviously, this case will cause the power of spells such as [Aqua Ball] to be extremely weak.

Then again, mages would fling their middle fingers at whoever claimed spells were for losers grasping for straws. Like all else systematic practitioners did, they had to elevate spells to such heights that apparently even the founders dare not offend the strongest of them.

… which immediately cheered Elrhain up, as he now knew there was an Archmage in South-Eastern Uoris Diosca who could gather light into a spear of destruction. The same spell had once erased an army of Horuxi invaders from the edge of the disc.

Stolen story; please report.

‘Isn’t that a friggin’ laser beam?! Ugh, I want one soooo bad!’ The boy bit his lower lips in both envy and anticipation.

Eudav also mentioned practitioners like the wicked devil conjurers, rigid druids, and priests of cryptic deities who preached to do away with spirits. Regardless of good or evil, these dhionne professions each had their unique brands of spells and augurs Elrhain was dying to get his hands on.

The boy was so busy fantasizing that he almost didn’t hear the raucous shouting coming from the direction the mountain trail led to.

The kids quickly exchanged glances before hurrying towards whatever was happening on the now excited husky.

At the hamlet's east end, huge metal cauldrons were lined up side by side, boiling with ominous mixtures spewing out nasty chemical scents from the brew within.

Arfon and Eudav squealed, and before anyone could stop them, they sprinted to the cauldrons the moment they came into view.

The two fancily dressed dhionne standing there immediately put a hold on their loud disagreement with sour expressions. They disguised even that as soon as they recognized the tiny interlopers’ identities.

The two boys obviously cared none of the social etiquettes and excitedly bombarded the younger of the arguing duo, a shaman by the looks of his robes, question after question after question.

They were not daunted at all by the noble who was now standing to the side awkwardly.

In fact, it was the noble, a spindly man with shaggy green hair and an ape-like snout who stood at attention at the sight of the children. More precisely, when he noticed Agwyn and Elrhain lazing on top of Alleigh.

“Master shaman, what are you doing in those big pots?” Elrhain asked after getting down from the husky. He stood on his tiptoes, trying to take a closer look at whatever voodoo or witchcraft was going on.

The shaman first bowed. “Respected P-prince, this one is just an un-mentored apprentice from the Lochuir Shire. I am yet far from being a full-fledged shaman. And to answer your question, it is House Glue.”

““House glue?””

The apprentice nodded. “To help the people here build the hamlet. When constructing a dwelling, it is mixed with the mud to make it sturdier, to ward off damage by the storms and rains.”

““Ohhh!””

“How does it work?” Arfon beat Elrhain to the punch.

“That,” the apprentice thought the question over as he stirred the mixture some more. He ladled a bit out for a sniff before pouring it back in. It would yet take some time.

“Do the noble young masters know of Rubra trees?”

The kids nodded while Eudav held up a hand, shouting, “Yes! Those giant leaves they are using to make the roofs, those are Rubra leaves, right?”

“Correct. How perceptive, my lord. As expected of the main house’s scions. Yes, they are indeed the same. Rubra leaves have a certain magical characteristic that repels water. Also, its sap can stick two stones so firmly together that if enough is applied, it can even thwart the full-powered charge of an adult Kaloxen.”

“But why is that magical? Normal leaves and saps also have water repellent and adhesive properties.” Elrhain asked, and the apprentice chuckled.

“Certainly, they do. But if you use a normal tree leaf as material to line a roof, it might last this monsoon at most before it ruptures and rots. Then it will have to be changed every cycle anew.

But a Rubra leaf, if properly prepared, can last tens of cycles, if not more. The inherent magical aspect of the tree makes water shy away from even touching its leaves. Here, watch.”

The apprentice had a servant bring back a stack of giant Rubra leaves. He took one and placed the rest beside one of the cauldrons. Then, holding the leaf parallel to the kids’ eye levels, he gently sprayed some water on it from a waterskin.

The kids huddled around eagerly to watch. Alleigh, who was left behind, dishearteningly sniffed the leaves in the left-over pile before sneezing as he jerked his head away.

Elrhain gasped in shock as his superhuman vision caught the water droplets float above the leaves and not touch the surface membrane at all. It was completely different from the banana or taro leaves back on earth, altogether magical and out of his expectations.

This phenomenon was like the… the…

「Leidenfrost Effect?」 Agwyn guessed.

Elrhain nodded.

Above the Rubra leaf, water broke apart into perfect spheres as they gently bounced off. The apprentice started spraying more and more water, even using a [Spray Water] spell, but the leaf was utterly immune.

Then, he poured. And finally, the large volume of water broke through whatever magical shenanigan was going on and hit squarely on the leaf’s surface.

“As you can see, it works better when the water comes down in droplets, such as rainfall. Even a rainstorm can hardly damage it. But even like this,” The apprentice stopped pouring the water and slanted the leaf to one side. The angle was the same as how the villagers would set the leaves on the hut roofs.

The water slid off like oil, not leaving behind a hint of wetness.

“See? Well, it’s still a rather low-grade material, so it can’t do much against a dedicated magical offence. But for these people, it is more than sufficient.”

“Then the sap?”

“That would be harder to demonstrate as it takes time for it to dry.” The apprentice shaman pointed towards the cauldron. “Here, we mix the leaves’ extract, sap, along with a few other materials such as blood from specific gheists and manna core powder to strengthen the effects. Combine this with the viscous mud that you can find anywhere, and any house smeared with it will stand strong even in a hurricane.”

‘Impressive!’ Elrhain admitted. If what the young man said was true, this kind of concoction turned simple mud into a modern cement-like compound.

“Wait,” He thought of something, “I saw many dhionne bring back mud from the riverbanks and simply using them as is. Are they also using this stuff?”

“That…” The apprentice scratched his head stiffly.

It was then that the nobleman finally spoke up. “As expected, no way would the prince not notice this crucial point!” He exclaimed, then introduced himself. “This one is Onthoakt Slanout, your highness!”

Elrhain waved his hand nonchalantly. It had become a habit by this point, responding to noble greetings with impassive annoyance.

“Continue what you were saying before.”

“My pleasure! Your highness, this Rubra house glue simply takes too long to concoct! We expect this batch to finish today, but it’s been boiling like this for a week already.”

Elrhain turned back towards the cauldrons. They looked about a metre high and half that wide. And there were seven of these currently in use.

“Are they not enough?”

“Absolutely not. We need a third of each cauldron for one measly servants’ hut. Even us cultivators have to make do with lesser and smaller dwellings far below our prestige.

My people number four hundred strong. How can we afford to wait till all the homes have used the house glue, with the first monsoon of the collapse right around the corner? Even if us cultivators can, the weak servants cannot withstand the storms without a roof above their heads, not to mention the elderly and children!”

“Can’t you simply make more cauldrons? Since metal is limited, then what about using clay or stone?”

It was the apprentice who replied, “No, my lord. These are special alchemical tools lent to us by Palaikt Maegan Earthloch Blethen of the North Lakes, and of course the ever so generous main house.”

Slanout nodded. “My meagre Onthoakt house only had two to begin with, so we can only depend on your kindness. This mixture is, after all, alchemical. It will eat right through normal clay or stone.

And more importantly, while Rubra leaves are plenty, the sap, gheist blood, manna cores, and even some of the other supplementary materials are harder to find.”

Elrhain thought it over for a bit. “There are hundreds of mountains around Lochuir being turned into settlements. Of course, there would be deficits.” He looked at the two men. “Are there no alternatives?”

Onthoakt Slanout and the apprentice looked at each other awkwardly, “There are, but they are even more valuable.”

“I see. That is something to worry abou-Hey! Annie, what the heck are you doing?!” the boy suddenly yelled, his eyes glaring in the direction of one of the bubbling cauldrons.