The ground trembled softly with each fall. One after another, massive trees were torn from the earth as if invisible giants were pulling them up by the roots and hurling them down. The sound of cracking wood and thundering impacts echoed through the forest like distant war drums.
Kaelor stood beside Mildred, arms crossed, his expression carved from stone as he watched the silver haired woman work her will.
Vi raised her hand again, her lips moving in hushed incantations Kaelor couldn't hear. A vibrant shimmer passed through the air as arcane energy surged through the ground, and another tree, thick as a hut and tall as a tower, was wrenched free and slammed to the forest floor.
He had expected the task of gathering lumber to span several days, at best, but in just a handful of hours, she had downed a hundred trees.
One hundred.
After the final tree fell, Vi exhaled and wiped her brow. Mildred handed her a water pouch, which she took without ceremony. "That's one focus crystal exhausted," she murmured, almost to herself. "One of those could fetch hundreds of gold coins."
Kaelor narrowed his eyes, studying her. "Then why use it?"
Vi met his gaze and smiled faintly, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Has no one told you that you're quite charming when you speak with that kind of confidence?" Her tone was light but not mocking. "You might not have the looks of a charmer, but you certainly talk like one."
Kaelor scowled, looking away as if her words had no weight. "I didn't ask for flattery."
"And I didn't give it," she replied under her breath, drinking deeply from the pouch.
The rest of the day passed in the steady rhythm of labor. With the help of the townsfolk and the Dreadclaws, the fallen trees were heaved onto crude sleds and dragged back to town.
Kaelor oversaw it all from the rear, his silent presence a pillar around which the town's resolve formed.
By dusk, the last of the timber had been carried through the gates. The sun sank low behind the hills, casting a golden glow across the valley. As Kaelor entered the clearing before the gates, his eyes were drawn to a lone figure waiting.
Vi stood there, wrapped in a coarse woolen coat that looked borrowed, out of place on someone with her poise. And yet, she wore it as regally as if it were silk.
She wasn't merely born into her bearing. It was earned. Forged in fire and tempered by hardship. The way she stood, chin slightly raised, arms relaxed, but eyes alert, spoke of battles fought, both in courts and in chaos.
When Kaelor reached the gate, he stopped. Their eyes met.
"You worked all day," she said quietly. "You should rest."
Kaelor raised a brow. "So should you."
Vi smirked. "I will. I just wanted to tell you something before I do."
His expression stiffened, subtly raising his guard. "What is it?"
She stepped closer, her silver hair catching the light of the moon, cascading like flowing mercury down her back.
"Whatever it is you think you're doing… don't believe you're the only one capable of the extraordinary." Her voice was gentle, but edged. "Your power, it's not some divine anomaly. There are others capable of doing things even beyond the arcane."
And with that, she turned.
Her coat fluttered behind her like a cloak as she strode into the town, leaving only her words and the soft rhythm of her steps behind.
Kaelor watched her go, thoughtful.
Vi, meanwhile, didn't look back. But a click of her tongue betrayed her thoughts.
'What a man. Didn't even stop me to ask. Most would grovel for what I know. He doesn't even know about gifts… and yet refuses to ask.'
She smirked.
'He'll come around. They always do.'
"Others? Are there others with the fusion system?" Kaelor muttered aloud, his voice barely louder than a breath.
A soft chime echoed in his head, followed by a cold, absolute answer from the system:
[No other living being has been granted the power of Fusion.]
Kaelor's brow furrowed. "Then what was she talking about? Was she lying?"
Before the thought could linger too long, a voice behind him interrupted.
"My Lord, the trees are ready." It was Jon, his tone low but firm.
Kaelor cleared his throat and turned, casting the thought aside, for now.
He followed Jon to the clearing where the felled trees lay in orderly rows. Their roots remained intact, just as he'd instructed. Massive, heavy trunks, stripped of their leafy crowns, were sprawled across the grass like slumbering giants.
Kaelor drew his sword with a whisper of steel.
"Chop off the branches. Leave the roots. We'll need every inch of their strength."
The men got to work.
With the strength of the Dreadclaws, six in number now, and the raw might of Hound, the work progressed swiftly. Volunteers and newly recruited Guardsmen, now numbering twenty alongside the beastkin, moved with tired but determined resolve.
By the time they finished, the first tendrils of pale dawn crept through the thick fog. Most of the men had slumped against carts or logs, fast asleep. Exhaustion blanketed the air.
Kaelor, standing alone before the completed task, whispered to the system:
"I want to fuse these trees with the town wall. What would it cost?"
[Cost: 1800 Fusion Points.]
Kaelor's breath caught. That was nearly everything he had, almost his entire reserve.
His jaw clenched. The safety of the town hung by a thread. The walls, still made of hardened mud, wouldn't hold against an army of devil wolves.
He didn't have a choice.
"Fuse," he muttered, voice low but filled with resolve.
The air grew still.
Suddenly, a burst of blue flame roared to life, dancing along the trunks of the trees like living serpents of light. The flames lifted the logs from the earth and carried them through the air, slowly, steadily, as if guided by an unseen force.
They aligned with the town's crude wall, one by one, spacing themselves with precise, mathematical symmetry.
As if lured by the flames of the wall. When the fusion was done, a thick, reinforced wooden-mud hybrid wall. From afar, it appeared like a dark earthen wall interwoven with bark and knotted roots. The structure absorbed impacts more effectively than either material alone. Tree roots wrap around the base, anchoring it into the soil like claws.
Like a living wall rather than someone made of man.
[You have successfully created the Earthenwood Palisade, a wall that slowly repairs itself by drawing moisture and nutrients from the soil. Less likely to crumble under shock like catapult or monster strikes. And the roots can extend slightly underground, bursting out at intervals to trap those you desire. To control, you must be in contact with the wall.]