"Hypothesis failed," I muttered.
I hadn't forgotten the lesson from the cave—I knew the friction coefficient in this world was broken. But I had calculated a possibility: if friction (a physical force) was unreliable, perhaps cohesion (a chemical force) could bypass the bug.
I tried to exploit a loophole. I used mud and gravel as a binding agent, hoping to just glue the stones together.
Result? Catastrophic failure.
The fundamental laws here were too corrupted. The moment the wall reached a meter high, the reality glitched. The mud didn't even have time to set before the stones slid apart like wet soap.
"I told you, Human." Elder Karl leaned on his bone staff, sneering through his scars. "Here, the earth is alive. It detests bondage. Unless suppressed by a High Oracle's totem, stones are just stones. They will not listen to your arrogant logic."
I ignored his mockery, crouching down to inspect the debris. The mud was still wet, but it had lost all adhesion. It was as if the concept of 'stickiness' had been deleted from the local code.
"It seems there are no shortcuts," I sighed, finally accepting the cost.
"Fine," I stood up, dusting off my hands and looking at the chaotic, shifting reality around me.
Mud is just wet dirt. It dries mechanically; it doesn't cure. In a zone with abnormal gravity and zero friction, a mechanical bond was a joke. I needed a chemical binder—a matrix that would lock the stones together at a molecular level.
I need cement, I muttered inwardly, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead. But modern Portland cement requires a massive rotary kiln burning at 1,450 degrees Celsius. I don't have coal. I don't have a factory.
"Give it up, Outlander." A tall Cat-kin warrior named Ron threw a stone to the ground in disgust. "We've already wasted a morning's energy on your mud games. We'd be better off sharpening our bone spears."
"Your bone spears won't even scratch a Wolf cavalry's iron armor," I snapped. "If you want to survive the slaughter in seven days, shut up and let me think."
I paced around the rubble, forcing my brain to dig through years of architectural history. I scanned the geological makeup of the rift.
Greyish-white rocks near the cliff wall—Limestone (Calcium Carbonate). Down by the dried riverbed—Clay and volcanic pumice (Rich in reactive silicates).
A crazy, ancient blueprint suddenly clicked into place in my head.
The Pantheon in Rome didn't use modern cement. It didn't have steel rebar. Yet, its massive concrete dome had survived earthquakes for two millennia.
"I don't need a modern factory," I whispered, the adrenaline spiking in my chest. "I just need to go backwards in time."
I spun around to face Zayla. "Can you generate fire? Real, sustained heat?"
Stolen novel; please report.
She frowned, her tail flicking suspiciously. "I can channel my mana into a thermal burst. Why?"
"I need to bake those grey rocks. About nine hundred degrees Celsius." I pointed a shaking finger at the limestone outcroppings. "We are going to burn the carbon dioxide right out of them to make quicklime. We mix that with the river clay."
I looked at Zayla, a manic, absolute certainty in my eyes. "If I don't have modern cement... I'll just make Roman Concrete."
Thirty minutes later, I found a flat patch of ground. Instead of rushing to stack stones, I knelt and pressed my hands into the dirt, testing the soil's compaction.
Satisfied, I turned to my makeshift workstation. I carefully dumped our first precious batch of cement onto a flat slate and had Ela trickle in fresh water. I worked the mixture relentlessly until the mortar reached a perfect, thick, peanut-butter-like consistency.
“That is... mud?” Ron frowned. “You want to stick stones together with grey vomit? This is an insult to a warrior's intelligence.”
I didn't explain. Like a rigorous mason, I began to lay the wall on this calibrated foundation. Level one: mortar, stone, level. Level two: stagger joints, fill, compact. Grey cement paste squeezed out from between the stones, rapidly undergoing an Exothermic Hydration Reaction. Because of my construction efficiency bonus, the setting speed was several times faster than on Earth.
In one hour, an L-shaped low wall stood at the wind gap.
“Done.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead. The onlookers looked at each other. The wall was ugly—grey mud mixed with rubble, the surface rough and uneven. Compared to the elven ruins they had seen, this was garbage.
"But it's still green. The mortar needs hours to cure, and we don't have them.""
I turned to Zayla. "| need you to bake it. Not a blast of fire, just a sustained, intense wave of thermal magic across the entire surface. We need to force the moisture out and accelerate the chemical bond." Zayla didn't ask questions. She placed her hands near the wet stone, her mana flaring. Steam violently hissed from the grey sludge as the 'peanut butter' rapidly calcified into a solid, rock-hard matrix.
“This is your miracle?” Elder Karl sneered. “A gust of wind will blow it—”
WHOOSH—!!
The famous “Entropy Gale” of the Silvermoon Rift blew on schedule. Usually, this wind carried enough sand and grit to sand down stone like industrial sandpaper. The previous walls would have loosened and collapsed. The gale slammed viciously into the new wall. Everyone instinctively covered their eyes, waiting for the crash.
Nothing happened. The wind hit the wall, making a dull howling sound, and was forced to divert. The wall didn't budge an inch. Not a single crumb of mortar dropped.
“Ron.” I pointed to the strongest warrior. “Go. Use your full strength. Ram it.”
Ron paused, then charged like a bull. BANG! A dull thud followed by a yelp. Ron stumbled back, landing on his butt and clutching his shoulder. The wall stood indifferent and hard. His shoulder, however, was red and swollen.
“This... This is impossible!” Ron stared in shock. “It's like... it grew out of the ground!”
“That's called Structural Integrity.” I patted the stone wall, feeling the gritty feedback, still warm from the chemical reaction. “Through cement and laws, these stones have become a whole. This is the first lesson: United stones are harder than bones.”
A notification pinged in the corner of my vision: [Achievement: First Foundation] Unlocked. +50 XP.
Night fell, and the temperature plummeted.
Usually, the Cat-kin children would huddle in leaky shanties, shivering. But tonight, I leaned against the back of the new low wall. In the L-shaped Wind Shadow, it was perfectly still.
By the campfire's light, I drew tomorrow's plans in my notebook. Suddenly, I felt something move beside me.
It was a Cat-kin girl, no more than five years old, holding a doll made of dry grass. She moved over carefully, leaning her small body against the wall.
The wall was still radiating heat from the chemical reaction. In that moment, that cold, rough stone felt safer to her than the softest duvet. She let out a soft purr and fell into a deep sleep.
The child’s peace was infectious, finally breaking the suffocating tension in the camp.
I looked up and saw Zayla leaning against a boulder a few yards away. Her eyes were half-closed, her rigid posture completely relaxed. She let out a breath she must have been holding since the wolves attacked.
The ugly, mud-caked wall didn't just block the physical wind for the child; it blocked the Queen's existential despair. A strange warmth bloomed in my chest. It wasn't from a glowing crest on my hand. It was the realization that in this broken world, I could actually fix something.
“Sleep tight,” I whispered to the child and to the Queen, feeling my heartbeat. “I'm here, this wall won't fall.”
Science just punched Magic in the face. Cement: 1, Entropy: 0.
The fortress has begun. It's ugly, it's grey, and it's the most beautiful thing they've ever seen.
Question of the Day: What is the most important part of a base?
(Click your priority to see the outcome)
?? A) Thick Walls.
Result: Survivalist Logic. You are safe, but you are cold and miserable. A wall protects the body, but who protects your sanity? Defense +10. Happiness -5.
?? B) A Warm Bed.
Result: Zayla's Choice. Essential for morale. However, you return to find the Cat Queen has already claimed 90% of the blanket. You sleep on the edge. Morale +100%.
?? C) A Coffee Machine.
Result: The Engineer's Soul. Concrete holds the bricks together, but Caffeine holds me together. Sleep is optional; productivity is mandatory. Efficiency +200%.
What's your priority? Tell me in the comments! ??
Follow and Rate to see Project Zero Wind expand!