Chapter 18 - Another World (8)
'Isn't there a better way?'
After thinking that giving them clay they could freely shape might help them craft something, his thoughts expanded in other directions as well. But no easy solution came to mind, and the reason was the elves' incredibly small size. Even Serenian, who had looked over 170 cm tall in reality, was less than 5 mm now. Not even in centimeters. That tiny scale let them treat the fairly large bonsai pot like a vast plain, but the trade-offs were too numerous.
Scale adjustment was undoubtedly a cheat ability that felt like free lunch, but he couldn't tweak the scaling ratio at will. Add to that his status as a mere civilian, and the rule that he couldn't directly touch this pot on his villa balcony—well, the efficiency just wasn't there.
"Not sure if this crap would even work on those mana beasts anyway."
He muttered blankly, rubbing the coated paper backed with plain white sheet. He'd agonized between a cardboard box and this coated paper before picking the latter. The box was too big overall, and its thickness—taller than the elves—made processing it a nightmare. The coated paper, though, was thinner, easier to cut small.
With his limited brainpower, permanently sealing the clay with some finish that might poison the little creatures seemed worse than using this waterproof, sturdier coated paper in combo with the clay for repairs or mods. It felt more effective.
'This should be useful too.'
Along with those, he'd grabbed the smallest sewing pins from a variety store. Adjust the length right, and those sharp needles could serve as weapons.
He sent them into the pot. Routine by now, but the elves—including Serenian—always reacted with awe each time. Especially non-intuitive stuff like this.
Watching her rush to the Herb Pot, he slipped inside ahead of time.
"Ah, you're in there? Right now..."
"The divine one has granted us something, has he not? A sticky white substance, and thin, glossy, sturdy sheets."
As expected, she didn't keep him waiting. Panting hard, she crossed the rift in one go. Her eyes widened; she nodded at him. He chuckled and explained casually why he'd sent them.
"We can build anything if we use them right?"
"That's the idea. Haven't you touched it? Soft and pliable, but it hardens rock-solid once the moisture evaporates. Less labor than stone or wood—I reckon if you use it smart, the enemy won't breach it."
Communication like this was so damn convenient. Stuck unable to leave here, he remained a mere observer of this tiny world. But with their dire straits, passive watching had limits. This bridged the gap.
And Serenian was sharp. She grasped without spelling everything out, even innovated her own uses.
"Clear a path and lash it tight with rope. The black bull will haul the goods to your build site."
On impulse, he queued Battlebot 001 to bundle the clay—fist-sized glass-marble scale—and drag it to her castle spot.
"Understood. Right away."
Her eyes still held confusion, but her actions were swift, unhesitating. Once she'd caught her breath and dashed off again, he snapped back to reality and gripped the Battlebot controller.
Unlike the drone, free to zip in and out, Battlebot needed battery swaps—but stocks were fine. Worst case, send batteries later, teach replacement.
"---!"
'Gotta give 'em a radio or something.'
Out on the balcony, he watched Serenian race across the pot's plain, toward the kid elves poking at the clay—massive relative to their bodies. She barked orders on arrival.
As he'd said, they fetched ropes—handkerchief scraps they'd steadily twisted—and lashed the clay.
Seeing her clamber up, grunting, to tie it off, he activated the idling Battlebot 001.
"--. ---!"
Clay secured, she yelled at the elf boy atop Battlebot. He scrambled down, knotted the ground ropes to it.
'This works.'
He smirked as Battlebot tugged the half-body-sized clay ball. Crude as hell, but good enough. In the pot, the little lump dragged along, soon thudding to a halt at the site.
"--."
Serenian hopped off grinning, patted the powered-down Battlebot, gave it a quick hug. Bizarre sight, every time.
"Chief. What the heck are these? You know something?"
"Gifts from the divine one. No need to toil raising log palisades or hauling dirt for walls."
Serenian—treating Battlebot as sacred beast, bowing to the heavens—fiddled with the still-malleable clay, faint smile playing.
Ren and Lea, the young siblings, didn't get it yet. But she did: why the divine one sent this.
'Even mindful of my plight. Such mercy.'
Raised a tribe princess, she was warrior-priestess supreme—survival ace, devout, clever. But architect? Hardly.
Wall-building, structures, village layout—that fell to other elves. Her own skills there bordered ignorance, dismal at best. Even with manpower, crafting proper works from wood or stone was near impossible for her.
The divine one saw through that, sent tools even she could wield.
"See, Ren? Hardens over time, softens with water—easy handling. We two could raise walls with this."
"R-Really? But rain'll soak it?"
"Those big white sheets came too. No clue what, but light, tough, waterproof. Fence with 'em."
From Seung-hyun's rundown, she envisioned clay-plus-coated-paper combo. Construction began.
World Tree mana summoned stored rainwater into a pond; she sloshed clay there, stacking anew.
'Wider base layer, then stepped up—could go taller.'
Still hands-on drudgery, but easier than before. Fact.
"Lea, cut the white sheets."
She'd haul clay via her handmade cart; Ren dump, shape it. Meanwhile, Lea sliced coated paper as ordered.
"Ch-Chief! Monster ants!"
But smooth sailing? No. As Ren pounded fresh 'wall' base—barely foundations—giant ants crept from afar. He yelled.
"No worries."
Serenian eyed the tiresome ants without fear, kept kneading clay. She had backup.
"Ooo!"
Mighty motor roar: the colossal black beast stirred. Overwhelming even the ants, it charged.
"Time's short. Finish at least layer one, Ren. Move!"
Ignoring ants, she pressed on. Warrior she was—no fleeing fights—but priority one: safe haven first.