I stood before the remains of the first golem, its once imposing figure now marred by cracks and damage.

Its defeat had been a hard lesson, but a necessary one.

I knelt down and ran my hand over the damaged surface, my fingers tracing the fractures.

This time, I wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

I focused, allowing the green aura to flow through my hands as I began to disassemble the golem, piece by piece.

The materials responded to my command, and soon, I had stripped it down to its core elements.

I had learned from my first creation.

The properties of the materials needed to be more adaptable, more durable.

This time, I would not settle for anything less than perfection.

As I began to reshape the golem, I focused on refining every aspect.

Its external structure would be stronger, but it was the internal design that truly mattered now.

My mind raced with possibilities as I worked, considering every angle, every detail.

I needed something more—something that could make the golem independent, able to sustain itself.

The golem core would be that solution, but simply placing the core inside wasn’t enough.

When I channeled my own energy into the golem, it flowed naturally, filling every part of the body.

The golem core, however, wouldn't work the same way.

Its energy reserves wouldn't distribute on their own.

I paused, studying the materials before me.

Then, the solution struck me—a network.

An internal structure that could channel the core’s energy throughout the golem, much like how blood vessels carried blood from a heart.

I began creating delicate, vein-like pathways within the golem, intricate tunnels that would allow the core’s energy to flow seamlessly into every part of the body.

It was an incredibly delicate process, requiring precise control over my matter manipulation ability.

But I was meticulous, and after hours of careful work, the veins were complete.

The golem stood before me, its newly reconstructed form larger, more solid.

The core, glowing faintly in its chest, was now connected to every limb, every joint through the network I had built inside.

It was just like a living creature—its core was the heart, and the veins were its lifeblood.

Exhausted but satisfied, I stepped back to examine my work.

The golem seemed to pulse with latent energy, waiting to be awakened.

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I had achieved what I set out to do.

But this was only the beginning.

I began crafting more golems, each one better than the last.

The process became smoother as I perfected the method, and I soon became adept at gauging the exact amount of materials needed for the core.

The ideal composition, I discovered, was a ratio of one mana stone to five Philosopher’s Gems.

It provided the perfect balance of storage and amplification, though the exact ratio varied depending on the rarity of the mana stone.

Obtaining Philosopher’s Gems was easy—Krothe could simply purchase them from the store.

But the mana stones were another matter entirely.

Most of the stones available were low-rank, barely sufficient to power a golem of any significant strength.

I needed something more.

Fortunately, after searching through the store, I found one—a higher-rank mana stone, rare and potent.

Perhaps it was there because I was unable to summon any minions or creatures of my own, but this would do.

For now, it was enough.

With this new mana stone in hand, I could feel the potential growing.

I decided to save it for later.

The golems I created now would be far stronger than before.

They would fight with autonomy, powered by their own cores, their movements more fluid, their strength greater.

I stood back, surveying my creations with a sense of grim satisfaction.

Seven golems stood before me, each one a testament to my growing power and skill.

Four of them were clay, their surfaces smooth yet durable, capable of absorbing blows and adapting to the terrain.

The other three were stone, their bodies rigid and imposing, towering over the clay golems like sentinels carved from the earth itself.

They were far from perfect, but they were ready.

"Krothe," I called to my crow-like companion.

His sharp eyes glinted with curiosity as he fluttered around the golems, cawing in excitement.

"Kaw! You’re amazing!" he crowed, his feathers ruffling as he circled them, clearly admiring the work.

"Yeah," I murmured, still lost in thought. "They still need improvements, but for now, they’ll do."

Their forms were strong, but I could already sense the limitations.

I needed more efficient cores, more adaptable materials.

Still, there was time for that.

For now, I had seven golems at my disposal, each one a new piece in the puzzle of my growing dominion.

"Kaw! By the way," Krothe flapped over to perch on the shoulder of one of the stone golems, his beady eyes fixed on me.

"How were you able to do all this as if you’re a natural? You were human not long ago. Now it’s like you’ve been a creator your whole life."

His question lingered in the air, and I paused.

He was right, of course.

It was strange.

Everything—creating these golems, understanding how they worked, manipulating matter—it came so easily, as if I had done it a thousand times before.

But I hadn’t.

At least, not in this lifetime.

"I don’t know," I replied slowly, eyes narrowing as I thought.

"I just feel like... someone is guiding me. Like there’s a whisper in the back of my mind, showing me how."

I didn’t say it out loud, but sometimes, in the quiet moments when I wasn’t creating, I could feel something else.

A presence. A force.

It was as if my transformation into a Matrivan had unlocked something ancient, something that had been dormant in me for a long time.

I couldn’t explain it, but it felt as though my hands moved with a purpose I didn’t fully understand.

"Hmm… maybe it’s because you’re now a Matrivan," Krothe suggested, hopping down from the golem’s shoulder to the ground.

"Your demon form could have unlocked instincts you didn’t have before."

"Perhaps," I muttered, though I wasn’t fully convinced.

This wasn’t just instinct.

It was deeper than that.

There was knowledge flowing through me—an ancient, primal knowledge, as if it had always been there, waiting for me to tap into it.

But there wasn’t time to dwell on it.

I glanced toward the forest.

The humans would come eventually, and when they did, I needed to be ready.

"Let’s create more before the humans arrive," I said, rolling up my sleeves as I prepared to channel my powers once again.

The golems at my command were useful, but I needed more—an army, a defense strong enough to crush any intruders who dared enter my domain.

I commanded the golems to dig into the earth, and they obeyed without hesitation, their massive hands tearing into the soil with mechanical precision.

The sound of dirt being shifted filled the air as they worked, digging deep to gather more materials for their brethren.

As the clay golems harvested the earth, the stone golems smashed through the nearby forest, breaking down trees with swift, brutal force.

The trees groaned and splintered under their weight, crashing to the ground in a tangle of broken branches and leaves.

With each tree that fell, the area around me expanded, opening up more space for my creations to roam and defend.

I wasn’t satisfied with just clay and stone.

My mind raced with possibilities, and soon I began to experiment with wood as well.

The forest provided an abundance of material, and I started to craft golems from the very trees themselves.

These wooden golems would be lighter, faster, perhaps more agile in the dense forest terrain.

They lacked the raw power of their stone counterparts, but they would serve as nimble scouts and attackers, moving swiftly through the trees, unseen until it was too late.

I worked tirelessly, and as my golems continued to dig and clear the land, I also began setting traps throughout the forest.

Pitfalls lined with sharpened stakes, hidden snares ready to ensnare anyone foolish enough to wander too close.

It wasn’t enough to rely on brute force.

I needed to turn the land itself into a weapon, a deathtrap for any hunter that dared to breach my territory.

And at the heart of it all, I built something for myself.

A throne.

It rose from the ground, carved from stone and adorned with twisting vines and branches, a symbol of my control over this place.

It wasn’t just a seat—it was a statement.

I would sit here, at the center of my domain, and watch as anyone who came here was crushed beneath the weight of my creations.

Beside the throne, I left a tall tree standing, untouched by the golems’ destruction.

In its branches, Krothe nested, his dark eyes glimmering as he perched among the leaves.

It was fitting.

He, too, was a part of this new world I was shaping.

"Kaw!" Krothe cawed from his perch, looking down at me. "It would be piece of cake stopping those humans now."

I nodded, feeling the weight of the throne beneath me as I sat down, surveying the landscape before me.

The golems moved like clockwork, their heavy footsteps resonating through the clearing.

This was only the beginning.

Soon, this small army would grow and soon, my influence would spread beyond this dungeon.