Crafting (5)

The realization that only those blessed with monstrous natural constitution could attain true cold resistance had been baffling, but it was still too early to give up hope.

What Starlight Princess had just shared was merely the bad news; the good news had yet to come.

I silently prayed that whatever silver lining remained would offer me a glimmer of hope.

That would be a living nightmare. Neither truly alive nor dead.

Still, just as Starlight Princess pointed out, it was an exceptional trait for raw wilderness survival. For someone like me, who constantly had to anticipate the worst-case scenarios, I couldn't have asked for a better safety net.

Missing out on actual cold resistance stung, but this was still something to be grateful for.

Since the topic had come up, Starlight Princess sent along two Elixirs as gifts. Two entire bottles, no less.

I conveyed my heartfelt thanks to her and set about tidying up the cave.

‘Now that things are roughly in order…’

It was time to tackle the rest of the workload. With the construction of a traditional Seokbinggo rendered moot by the freezing weather, I pivoted to drafting plans for the shelter's fortification. The objective was to build something robust enough to shrug off any freak natural disaster the forest threw at us.

Of course, that was easier said than done. An ecological calamity far harsher than a simple avalanche could strike at any moment.

‘Should I line the drainage ditches with cement, too?’

Now that I knew cement was available, dozens of potential uses flashed through my head. Then again, I had never worked a day of civil construction in my life. The extent of my experience with cement came from a handful of fatigue details during my mandatory military service, and even then, the noncommissioned officers handled most of the troweling while I merely hauled buckets and lent a hand.

‘Come to think of it, I really did every odd job under the sun back in the army.’

Chuckling faintly to myself, I browsed the continental auction house, filtering for cement. Since it was widely utilized across multiple trades—especially construction—there were surprisingly massive quantities listed for sale. Considering I had assumed it wouldn't exist at all in this world, seeing the abundant listings felt almost anticlimactic.

If only I had checked a little sooner. Had I even thought to search for it earlier, my masonry oven and smelting furnace wouldn't have been washed away down the hillside.

‘I need to throw up barricades, too… So much to do.’

That damn avalanche had swept away practically everything. Just looking at the bare hillside made a sigh escape my lips. Whatever else could wait, perimeter barricades were an absolute necessity; the difference between having them and being caught in the open was night and day. Back when the smilodon had ambushed the campsite, it was solely thanks to those wooden pickets that we had bought enough time to react.

‘I'll have to commission the dwarf for that. Though I won't be able to pay him in booze this time.’

Given Starlight Princess’s warning that the Blue Mandrake liquor might be lethal, I shelved that idea for later.

After hammering out the preliminary structural blueprints to fortify the camp, I immediately geared up. I needed to fetch sand to blend into the cement mortar, and I recalled seeing plentiful deposits downstream along the riverbank.

"Bbarmbo. Watch over Wonmo while I'm out."

"……."

With Wonmo deep in winter slumber, I decided to leave Fast Tree Sloth behind to guard the shelter. Ppareumbo showed zero inclination to budge anyway, content to sit blankly in front of the brick fireplace, completely absorbed in the dancing flames. Apparently, the urge to avoid venturing outside into the bitter cold was universal, whether for man or beast.

For me, however, this freeze presented an unparalleled window of opportunity. If Wonmo was fast asleep, the majority of the forest’s wildlife would have curtailed their activity or entered hibernation as well. That meant local hazards—including the venomous vipers that used to spring from the thickets at every turn—should be at an all-time low.

‘What I need to bring: a shovel and burlap sacks. The topsoil might be frozen solid, so let's pack an ignition stone and some dried firewood, too.’

Having a subspace dimensional bag made the entire logistics trivial. Weight was hardly a factor; by compressing the spatial footprint, the perceived burden on my back was negligible.

Double-checking that I hadn't forgotten anything vital, I headed toward the river.

‘Feels like ages since I last hiked down to the lower basin.’

Following the frozen riverbed downward, thoughts drifted through my mind as the crunch of ice echoed beneath my boots. Since I was heading this way anyway, swinging by the lake to scavenge some fresh provisions seemed like a sensible detour. It wasn't that I was tired of smoked rations, but Fast Tree Sloth’s dietary needs were becoming an issue.

‘Relying purely on beast inner cores for every meal is getting dangerous.’

Gulping down high-grade Neidans at every feeding was steadily depleting our stockpiles. Because winter had descended with zero warning, we hadn't managed to warehouse enough fibrous fodder suitable for Bbarmbo’s herbivorous digestion. If we hadn't accumulated a decent reserve earlier, our supplies would have run completely dry by now.

‘And there's no telling when ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Heavenly Demon will send over another batch of Inedia Pills.’

To make matters worse, those thieving gorillas had ransacked the camp and made off with every last pill we possessed. Until she delivered a fresh shipment, we had to stretch our resources however we could.

‘The riverbank sand… Wow. Frozen solid like granite.’

Arriving at the downstream flats, I discovered the silt and sand had bonded into an icy crust. Being directly exposed to the water, it was inevitable. Resigned, I pulled the prepared firewood from my subspace bag. Starting a small campfire over the deposit ought to soften up the ground enough to shovel.

Crack! Snap, crackle!

Basking in the radiant warmth of the crackling fire while waiting for the frost to loosen, a pleasant drowsiness settled over me. As I spaced out watching the flames, a sudden realization struck me like a slap to the face.

‘Wait a minute. Couldn't I have just hacked the frozen chunks out with a pickaxe and melted them later?’

Come to think of it, that made far more sense. Since the sand was meant to be blended with cement anyway, there was no pressing need to thaw it on-site. I could have simply chopped it loose and stirred it into a slurry back at camp using boiling water. They say human intellect tends to kick in after the manual labor has already begun, and that described me perfectly.

‘Hah. Just write it off as learning the hard way.’

Grumbling under my breath, I tested the sand. Still rock hard. It seemed I had enough time to make a quick trip to the frozen lake while the heat worked its magic.

Even so, I kept my guard up, scanning the brush. In this forest, one could never predict what might leap out from the tree line.

‘Nothing stirring out here.’

There was no trace of the colossal lake crabs, while the smaller river crabs had been caught by the sudden temperature plunge, frozen solid in the shallows. If someone asked whether these were edible, I would simply describe them as nature's flash-frozen delicacies. I dropped a half dozen frozen crabs into a sack and surveyed the perimeter.

The entire lake was an unbroken sheet of dense ice, stretching out like an expansive, pale highway.

‘If push comes to shove, I could probably use this surface to scout deeper inland…’

No need to take reckless gambles today, though. With the crabs secured, I retraced my steps back toward the riverbank.

The moment I stepped out of the frosted willow groves, a surreal sight stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Snort."

"……."

A stag. A massive wild deer was lounging comfortably beside the campfire I had built.

Was this the same beast that had dispatched a charging bull shark with a single, contemptuous hind-leg kick? I froze, fixing my gaze on the animal before inching forward one deliberate step at a time. If that hoof swung in my direction, my ribcage would be reduced to kindling.

‘Talk about an extortion racket.’

I hadn't imagined for a second that an animal would commandeer my fire the moment I turned my back. The creature exuded the unmistakable aura of an absolute back-alley thug; one wrong move, and I would pay dearly for it.

Nevertheless, I needed that sand. Keeping my posture non-threatening, I edged closer, projecting that I harbored zero hostile intent. Even as my boots crunched into the clearing, the stag merely reclined in the heat of the embers, not so much as twitching an ear.

Thwack! Chunk!

Remarkably, the stag remained completely unfazed even as I drove my spade into the softened sand right beside it. Whether it refused to budge because the fire felt too good, or because it had instantly gauged that a puny human posed no physical threat, I couldn't tell.

‘The arrogance of the truly strong, huh?’

In this bizarre woodland, the herbivores were abnormally terrifying. Sloths, gorillas, stags… If the carnivores were apex predators, these plant-eaters were sheer gangland enforcers.

‘That's about all the sand I can carry for now, but…’

Just how long did this freeloader intend to loiter here? Its unblinking, heavy-lidded stare bore into me with uncomfortable intensity. Still, since it hadn't trampled me into paste, I couldn't complain. I had accomplished my objective.

Clatter! Tsk-crack!

Before packing up, I tossed several thick logs onto the dying pyre—a silent peace offering to signal that I had no desire for a dispute. As the embers roared back to life, the stag seemed to register my gesture. The piercing gaze that had followed my every move finally drifted back toward the crackling wood.

‘That should hold you over.’

Emptying the rest of the timber onto the mound, I made my retreat toward the shelter. The stag never once showed any intention of parting from the warm blaze.

Despite the bizarre run-in, I had returned with both building materials and food.

‘Sand goes into the storage corner; the crabs belong in the cold box.’

The "cold box" was simply an insulated wooden crate packed with river ice—a makeshift icebox, for convenience's sake. But the second I stepped across the threshold into the main cavern, an immediate irregularity prickled my senses.

Fast Tree Sloth was still zoning out before the hearth, and Wonmo remained curled in his winter hibernation nest.

So who on earth was the pint-sized creature huddled right next to Ppareumbo?

‘What the…? I know for a fact the iron gate and the heavy storm tarps were tied down.’

There was no sign that the barricade or canvas flaps had been tampered with. It had slipped inside through some alternate route. Seeing how Bbarmbo hadn't flattened it into red paste, it clearly wasn't a lethal predator, but letting down my guard in this forest was asking for an early grave. I crept forward to get a clear look.

"Kyuuu-uuung…"

"……."

As I drew near, the creature's silhouette became unmistakable. An old acquaintance.

It was the raccoon from before—the very one that had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wandered into our camp, shoved its bare paws into the campfire, and then stuffed the licking flames straight into its mouth.

‘Why is this little rascal here?’

My brow furrowed as I inspected the animal. Frayed scrapes and fresh abrasions scored its flanks and hind legs. Yet, if it had been fleeing from a pursuing carnivore, it made no sense that the main entryway remained undisturbed.

"Hey there. Where on earth did you crawl in from?"

"Kyu-ung…?"

Perceiving my cautious approach, the raccoon blinked up with wide, bewildered eyes before slowly rising onto its hind paws. For a split second, I braced for an attack, but the creature promptly shattered every expectation.

"Kyu-ung… kyung…"

With an intensely contrite expression, it pressed its tiny front paws together in front of its chest, bowing repeatedly. It was, by all metrics, a textbook apology.

Combining such an adorable mask-like face with earnest, remorseful gestures naturally disarmed my suspicion. Compared to those thuggish, unprincipled apes across the forest, this little critter displayed vastly superior manners.

"Kyung… kyu-uu…"

The raccoon then reached out and pointed a trembling claw toward the brick chimney above the fireplace, wearing a face of absolute, cosmic grievance.

The full picture instantly clicked into place.

It must have tried seeking shelter down the chimney pipe, only to slip and take a vertical tumble straight into the hearth. Given the rough landing, it was a minor miracle the creature had escaped with only surface scratches instead of severe third-degree burns.

‘Talk about rotten luck.’

After it went out of its way to formally apologize, executing it was out of the question. Had it acted like an insolent, brazen pest, I would have tossed it back into the snow, but even Fast Tree Sloth seemed to recognize the sheer absurdity of the raccoon’s plight and remained passively sprawled by the hearth.

I reached out and gently stroked the raccoon’s furry head, silently reassuring it that it wasn't in trouble. Sensing my goodwill, the animal let out a soft breath, its tense shoulders relaxing.

"Hold still for a second."

"Kyu-ung?"

Since it was banged up, a dab of medicine was in order. I retrieved a diluted batch of animal-grade Elixir and rubbed it over the scraped patches on its back and legs. The wounds closed instantaneously, knitting fresh skin over the scratches. The raccoon poked and prodded its own torso in utter astonishment, turning in circles to inspect itself. It was endearing in a completely different way from Wonmo.

"Feeling better now?"

"Kyu-ung! Kyung-kyung!"

Clasping its paws together, it bowed repeatedly in frantic gratitude. It really felt as though every beast native to the Forest of Four Seasons possessed bizarrely high intelligence. Truly an uncanny ecosystem.

While I watched on with an amused grin, the raccoon glanced around the stone chamber, then waddled deliberately back toward the open hearth. Before I could question what it was up to, its eccentric antics began anew.

Rustle—

Without the slightest hesitation, it plunged both paws directly into the roaring blaze.

Unlike before, when it had dipped a single claw, it now cupped both front paws together, plunging them deep into the heart of the coals. I stared, entirely dumbfounded.

"Kyu-ung!"

"…What are you doing?"

The raccoon pulled its paws from the flames and presented them toward me. Both hands were engulfed in vivid, crackling fire, yet the creature showed not the faintest hint of distress or burning flesh.

Before I could even process how to react, the raccoon seemed to read my bewilderment. Turning its wrists downward, it allowed the gathered blaze to slip from its grip.

Whoosh!

The fire poured downward exactly like viscous water, splashing over the stone floor and dissipating a few seconds later.

My eyes widened. The fire had dripped like a liquid.

If fire could behave like water, did that mean it could be contained inside a vessel?

Acting on the thought, I hurriedly fetched an empty glass vial from my tool rack. Reading my intent, the raccoon cupped its paws into the flames once more, drawing up another pool of fire, and tilted its hands over the open rim of the bottle.

Fwoosh! Flack!

The liquid fire spilled into the flask, maintaining its vivid, flickering form without dying out. Even when I slammed the cork stopper into the neck, cutting off all atmospheric oxygen, the blaze continued to dance energetically inside.

Looking closer through the glass, I realized the flames were swirling around a tiny, condensed core—a glowing, spherical seed of heat.

‘What in the world is this?’

A flame that burned without fuel or air, completely defying every law of basic physics. What did this even signify?

Completely lost for an explanation, I stared at the raccoon. Picking up on my scrutiny, the creature promptly dipped its paws into the hearth a third time.

"Chomp."

It stuffed its blazing paw directly into its mouth, swallowed the flame, and puffed its cheeks out like a bellows.

"Fwwwoooosh!"

ROOOAAAR!

An immense torrent of blazing fire erupted from its snout, illuminating the cavern interior with a brilliant, blinding flash.

My jaw dropped to the floor.

‘Are you kidding me?! Is there an actual ninja raccoon living in this forest?!’

Just as my mind was reeling in sheer shock—

SMACK!

"Kyu-gack!"

Fast Tree Sloth’s heavy paw swept down, swatting the raccoon square across the back with a resounding crack.

It was the stern, no-nonsense reprimand of an elder making it crystal clear: Stop playing with fire inside the house.