Valley of the Fallen (5)
The story that had dragged on for so long finally wrapped up as we left the restaurant and trailed after Adrian into an open clearing.
Adrian stopped in front of the clearing, turned to face us, and spoke.
"Well... I think I've explained everything about this place. Got any more questions, Ain?"
"Hm... not really? Nothing's coming to mind right now."
I didn't have any burning questions at the moment. I'd never even dreamed of getting answers to my curiosities among a bunch of criminals, so nothing popped up.
I shook my head, and Adrian gave us a quick once-over before turning and walking off alone, leaving us standing there.
"Alright, then that's the end of the tour. Be grateful—no one's ever gotten this much of my time for a guide."
"Wow, thanks, I feel like I'm gonna die."
"Then drop dead."
Just as expected from our first meeting, the guy had a mouth that could get you thrown in jail.
As he started to abandon us in the clearing, I called out to his back.
"You psycho. So what's this clearing for?"
"Huh? Oh, right, I didn't mention it. This is where you'll be living from now on. Park the cart here too."
He shrugged like he'd just remembered, answering casually.
"...There's nothing here? No lodging or anything?"
"No volunteers in a den of criminals. No profit in running an inn. Everyone just builds their own place and lives there."
What the hell kind of logic was that?
"But there's a perfectly good restaurant that doesn't even make money, so why no inn?"
"How the fuck should I know, idiot? If no one wants to run one, what do you want me to do about it?"
He'd sworn up and down earlier that everything you could need was here since people lived here, but after dinner, there wasn't even a place to sleep.
I stared at Adrian with half-lidded eyes, utterly dumbfounded.
"So you're telling us to camp out here?"
"What else? Like I said, build your own damn house. We've got basic materials over there, so make a shack or a brick house or whatever."
"...For real?"
"Dead serious. I'm out. Live well, and if something comes up, find me near the walls. But don't bother me unless you have to—it's a pain in the ass."
Build our own house. With that, he waved us off like we were annoying him and walked away.
"..."
"..."
"..."
We fell silent for a moment. I pondered, then glanced sideways and spoke.
"Asha."
"Yes, Ain."
"You don't happen to know any house-building magic, do you...?"
I asked cautiously, hoping magic might whip up a house easily.
Of course not.
"Sorry, Ain, but magic isn't that versatile. Well... if I dug through magic books, maybe something exists, but..."
"My bad."
It was a pointless question anyway—she had no reason to know house-building spells. I scratched my head awkwardly, and then came some words meant to cheer me up as she stared.
"But I can lift wood and stones with mana. And honestly, camping's fine by me. It might even bring back good childhood memories?"
""Us too! Camping's not so bad—we're pretty used to it!""
Not cheering at all, in the end.
"...No. I'll figure out how to build a house somehow."
Kids. Don't say that to someone who knows your past inside out.
Anyway, we ended up doing something totally at odds with our desperate escape earlier.
I'd thought we could just eat and sleep in the cart at first.
"Hm, that'd work for a week or so."
"...We're planning on staying way longer than that."
"Then build a house, dumbass. Cart's a cart, no matter how comfy."
Horn jumped up at my words about staying long-term, swinging his hammer with a whoosh.
And despite living among humans for ages, the old man was still a dwarf at heart.
"Ugh... then something super simple...?"
"'Simple' ain't in the dwarf dictionary, kid."
Fuck. They were the type who had to perfect anything they started.
And so, a massive construction project filled the clearing.
"Kid, stacking 'em like that'll collapse soon. Twist the angle a bit to overlap 'em—that'll last."
"Like this?"
"Yeah. Stack 'em like that and slather thick mud over it."
Honestly, having a skilled dwarf like Horn made it not too bad.
He grumbled that he wasn't some construction lackey, but once we started, he took full command of the site.
"Hey, quack! You still got that failed reagent from last time?"
"Uh... you mean that sticky stuff...?"
"Yeah, that! We'll use it as glue—haul it all out of the cart!"
"Got it...!"
I hammered minerals from that dwarf elder Shillin into sharp nails in seconds, using mud for the gaps.
"Hm... Asha, no magic to smooth logs?"
"...Magic isn't omnipotent."
"Tch... mages are less useful than I thought."
"...Ain. Horn's bullying me."
I'd asked about house-building magic earlier, but now this pointless follow-up made her pout as I smacked my lips in disappointment.
What good's a log-smoothing spell from a high-end mage? No carpenter's switching careers over it.
I was about to chew Horn out for bothering her.
"Horn, quit making Asha do weird shit... Hm? Log-smoothing magic?"
"Ain?"
But thinking it over, if we developed one, engraved it on a wooden wand, and mass-produced it for sale... that'd be pure profit.
Practical everyday magic was surprisingly scarce in a world full of it.
"Asha, is developing magic hard?"
"..."
But I shelved the idea—her face was darkening, and one more dumb remark might land me in a truth room.
"Nah... forget it. Let's build this house hard."
"Isn't harassing that mage enough rudeness without rest, Ain?"
"...Yeah, sorry."
I apologized and went back to smearing mud into the log gaps.
"Kid, I told you not to slap it on like shit. Got a hole in your head or what?"
"..."
"Thought swinging a sword meant some handiwork, but wrong. Just trim logs with your sword."
"...Yes, sir."
A bit heartbreaking. My only experience was a rickety doghouse from scrap wood as a kid—real houses under dwarf direction were tough.
"You three brats! I said bring snacks—why're you pigging out alone!!"
Our chaotic house-building dragged on till nightfall.
In conclusion, as expected, we couldn't finish in a day.
We'd left the half-finished—hell, maybe 10% done—structure and piled into the cart to crash.
"Ah, I'm beat..."
"Good work, Ain."
Somehow, running around building was harder than sword training.
With the nonstop-nagging dwarf beside me and unfamiliar labor eating up my strength, yeah.
The problem was Horn.
Dwarves were obsessively meticulous about crafting—the materials Adrian left were way short for completion.
Even mud-slathering had to be flawless, so revisions doubled the time.
And even in the cart for rest, he was dwarf to the bone.
"Tsk... ah. That part bugs me."
Ah, crazy dwarf starting up again.
"Please... Horn. We're not living here forever—can't we just slap it together?"
"You just insulted dwarves? Apologize."
"Fuckin' sorry... "
Even suggesting "good enough," the psycho elder blew up, calling it the ultimate dwarf insult.
He'd been a passionless near-corpse, but now his eyes gleamed like a maniac, itching to build tomorrow.
"Ah, how to fix that. Tsk... redo the foundation from scratch?"
Ah, please. Cut the bullshit.
And responding to his mutter was another lunatic.
"Not bad! They taught me as a kid—solid foundations for everything!"
"Hm, figures? If even human nobles teach that, we'll restart foundations at dawn. Kid, sleep—up early with me."
"You got this!"
Eileen. You little shit.
Her words stirred the thick rage I'd been suppressing deep down.
If I didn't vent now, I'd hammer it into her skull tomorrow.
So, gritting my teeth, I turned to her.
"Eileen, you're an adult now—join construction tomorrow."
"Huh...? Me??"
She bolted upright, wide eyes fixed on me.
Like a bolt from the blue, she flapped her arms in panic.
"B-but as an adult, we take responsibility for words and actions."
"I-I'm... way too clumsy to call myself an adult yet...!"
"You're fucked."
"Eeeeek!!! Why me!!"
I'd been babying her with the twins since she acted childish, but I couldn't tolerate her loose mouth anymore.