Chương 105: Chapter 102: Make a House a Hill

The great "Chips n Guac" fiesta lasted into the evening. Melia taught every cook in the abbey's kitchen how to make it, and by the time they'd become confident enough with preparing it that the system granted them a [Recipe], several variations were already popping up. Some liked it smooth, almost like a paste, while others preferred big, chunky portions featuring coarsely chopped onions and tomatoes that were easy to identify.

It amused Melia greatly that every chef made two bowls: one for the revelers and one for Celestara's statue. She understood why they did it, and it was amazing to actually witness the food disappear… but that didn't stop it from being funny. Eventually, once the abbey's famous wine started circulating around the room, Melia decided to call it a night. She left the sister in charge of the buffet table with a mountain of chips and scurried away before someone tried to get her drunk.

Having taken a very respectable nap earlier, Melia didn't really sleep that night. Instead, she stared up at the stars in quiet contemplation. She thought back at what she'd done so far in this life and wondered if she was doing good. Certainly, she was doing well for herself, both in terms of money and her health. But had she left a positive impact on the lives of those around her? She hoped so. Melia had done a lot of big, eye-catching things in the last few weeks and brought a lot of change rather quickly.

She liked to believe that she did more good than harm, but maybe it was time to take a step back from pulling pranks and building selfish crafts. At least for one day. As soon as the sun rose in the morning, Melia climbed her way to the roof of the abbey and watched the world turn. Most things went back to normal. The same brothers who tended the fields diligently went to work, while not long after, the small contingent of [Scholars] returned to their station.

Melia could see various magics floating off both groups and she was happy they seemed content. Somewhere in the middle of watching, Melia noticed a new group of people come out of the abbey. The colony of halflings laughed, chatted, and most importantly, snacked on little bits of leftover breakfast. She watched them take their time loading up nearly a dozen carts and wagons pulled by ponies and miniature horses.

Despite being what was essentially a group of refugees or pilgrims searching for a new home, they showed no signs of anxiety or worry, unwilling to let the hurried pace of modern life sweep them away in a storm. They lived life to their own beat and they wore huge smiles while doing it. Melia watched a few brothers help with loading and decided to see if she could lend a hand.

"Hi!" Melia said as she made her way down to the halflings. The nice thing about simple folk was that they didn't need any grand explanations or reasons to say hello. A quick and easy "How d'ya do" was a perfectly reasonable way to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger. The man Melia approached was an elderly halfling with a large, shiny bald patch atop his head and a hefty belly that weighed down his three-and-a-half-foot frame.

He wore coarse-looking trousers held up by a pair of suspenders and a white shirt faded by the time spent toiling in the field. He turned, glanced down at Melia, and a huge grin bloomed across his weatherbeaten face.

"Well, I'll be! A gnome!" A few neighboring halflings heard him and turned to see the commotion. Nearly all of them dropped what they were doing and wandered over.

"Good mornin' lass!"

"Wouldja look at that, Jeb? You're finally taller than someone!" A lady holding a plate of what smelled like tiny apple pies came forward, glanced down at Melia, and simpered.

"You poor thing, you're all skin and bones! Here, have a tart." A few greedy fingers from other bystanders reached out, but she swatted them all away. Still, she offered the plate to Melia with a smile on her face. How could she say no? Truthfully, it wasn't the best mini-pie Melia had ever tasted, but the lady's generosity filled the gap. Without so much as a second word, she was already welcoming Melia into the group like a wizened grandma. Yes, Melia could get behind these folks.

"So," Melia asked, after licking away a few crumbs, "Whatcha doin'? I heard you're moving in?"

"Ah," the first man nodded happily.

"That we are. Come all the way from Eastshire, we have." Melia nodded and made an appropriately impressed noise, though to be honest, Eastshire wasn't very far away. At all. Not considering someone like her, who could travel from one end of the country to the other in a matter of hours, let alone days, even somebody from Horizon could book a carriage to Lakeridge for a normal outing. Adventurers did it as part of their job.

But, Melia supposed, those other people weren't looking to uproot their entire lives and weren't carrying entire households' worth of goods on the backs of rickety old carts. For these folks, that might as well have been the equivalent of a pioneer "moving out west" back in the olden days.

"Have you really been given a dream command to move here?" Melia asked. She'd heard bits and pieces of their encounter with the Bishop, and she found the idea of packing up their entire lives because "a god said so" to be terrifying.

"You've got it in one," the man said.

"Word's spread about their bein' a holy tree and a place where crops can grow big and strong, and Moore wants it done right. We're here with his blessin', and we mean to see it through."

"So…where do you plan to live? The area around the [Greenhouse] isn't exactly suitable for development."

"We'll make do, lass; we'll make do." Melia was dubious, seeing as none of the group was higher than rank 3 and there wasn't a single combat class among them. But… she admired their faith. So she decided to tag along. After eating another pie, she helped load.

Some of the younger, tougher boys were surprised and stared at her with their mouths agape as she moved crates multiple times the size of her body, but some of the older gents laughed and cheered her on, going so far as to stand by and watch, claiming in cheeky voices that their "old bones" weren't what they used to be. After getting everything prepared, the group moved out. They didn't head toward the [Greenhouse]; instead, they took the road to Abbyton.

With the Matron's blessing and several builder-coded brothers, the caravan rolled into the sleepy little hamlet and took the fork toward the northern outskirts. Abbyton was a mile away at absolute best, so it wasn't like it would take a long time to commute back and forth no matter where they stayed. But they weren't staying in houses. Most of the free space nearby was taken up by tents, set up by the Adventurer's Guild and their related companies.

Melia was concerned there wouldn't be any place for the new community, but it turned out they never planned to inconvenience "the big folk" in the first place. Halflings tended to live in low buildings or burrows half-buried in the ground, so a tall, multistory settlement for humans wasn't something they were interested in. One of the old men and a brother stayed behind in Abbyton to notify the local leadership of their arrival, while the rest set out to settle.

Melia was only half surprised to see them finally stop in the middle of a sprawling field with rolling hills.

"Yup," one halfling said.

"This'll be perfect." Melia gazed out over the field. It was a beautiful down, if that was the word, and she could already imagine sheep grazing, little gardens sprouting with tomatoes and roses, and halflings kicking their feet up after a hard day's work. There was only one problem. That level of society didn't just pop up overnight.

"That's, uh, one way to look at it," Melia muttered.

"You mean to tell me you're planning to build up from scratch?" She was sitting next to the first old man, who was one of the 7 leaders of the bunch, and not exactly a spring chicken. Mr. Belgin Glenfellow. He smiled, laughed, and patted Melia on the back.

"That's right," was all he said.

"Won't that…take a while?" Melia delicately asked. For all his simplistic bluster, the man was no fool, and he looked at Melia with wisdom in his eyes.

"I'm sure it will. Things worth havin' are worth doin' right, and things done right take time. Might not see it in my lifetime, but my gran'kids'll see it done." Melia's eyes went wide. It seemed that when a halfling decided to commit… they committed. She squirmed, slightly uncomfortable with the fact that a man was completely accepting of rooting up his life with the distinct possibility of never seeing the fruits of his labors.

Maybe she was spoiled, having grown up in the age of computers where everything she could ever want was at her fingertips. Instant gratification was a demand, not a luxury. But she could do something about this. She was, for all intents and purposes, a one-woman construction crew, not to mention something closer to a god in stats rather than a mortal. The only problem was… how to offer her help. These people reminded Melia of the Amish.

She'd never actually met one before, and, truthfully, her understanding was closer to myth than to historical records. In fact, Melia didn't know if any Amish actually existed anymore in her lifetime, but tales remained. Especially with how they shunned advancements, preferring simple lives of hand-crafted goods and old-fashioned work. Plenty of parodies and comics ridiculed or made fun of the simple folk, but Melia was sure there was a truthful middle ground somewhere.

She just didn't know how they felt about accepting help from outsiders, just as the same as these halflings might. So she asked.

"I could, ah, help with construction, if you'd like?" Melia asked timidly.

"I might not look like it, but I'm an accomplished builder." If, strictly speaking, she had never built a house before, Melia felt the title was still merited considering her other feats. Mr. Glenfellow looked down at her, surprised, and laughed.

"That's right kind of you, lass! I won't say no to honest labor. Might even save a few 'o these generous brothers' backs." He waved amicably at the brothers, who were (quite rudely, in Melia's opinion) looking very worried now that the gnome had offered her services. It wasn't like she'd make them do all the heavy lifting! Belgin knew nothing of these troubles, though, and only remembered how Melia was able to load the carts.

"Great!" Melia beamed.

"Ah…do you have a plan?"

As it turned out, they did. The halflings weren't so oblivious as to leave their entire lives behind without a shred of planning. They had schematics (and an [Artist] who could draw them, too) for any type of burrow a halfling could ever want. They tended to live in hollowed-out hills rather than tall buildings… which might save on construction materials, but Melia was doubtful.

Just as she was dubious about the halflings' plan to source said materials from the holes they dug and repurpose them into bricks or stabilizing supports. In theory, this could all work… but again, it would take decades. Melia didn't want these kind people to live in tents or hovels for the rest of their lives, especially since they supposedly came out here to work the fields. If they were farming, who would be building? The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Melia met with Mr.

Glenfellow, a level 320 [Gardener], Barace Summertop, the level 277 [Artist], and the rest of the head council. She made a quick sketch of the land and handed it to Barace to make better before sharing it with the group. Though it was clear the ruling halflings were becoming overwhelmed with the greatly increased speed, they were simply out of luck. This was Melia's show now, and she'd set them right.

As soon as she got a layout of the first full neighborhood, with one great "hall" that could fit several families of halflings, she set out to work. Melia made sure that nobody was going to get in her way, and quite seriously asked the brothers to enforce it. They nodded much faster and more severely than was strictly necessary, but Melia would rather have them on board than see them work against her.

She made a mental note of the blueprint, saving the details of where roads would run and homes would burrow, before setting out to work. She started with a main road back to Abbyton. She tuned everything out (catching a single gasp as she leaped away) and engaged all her skills. And sometimes, not even her skills. With her ludicrous amount of stats, pounding the earth and compacting it into something that wouldn't erode in the first spot of rain was trivial.

She hummed as she sped along, and a simple, if effective, dirt road trailed like a snaking tail behind her. By the time she'd made the trek back to the halflings, they'd managed to get two canopies up and several tables where they could all relax in the shade. One of the council members caught her attention as she was breezing through.

"Miss?" The woman shouted as Melia stomped, plowed, and otherwise steamrolled a smooth surface through the middle of an open field without so much as a single obvious tool.

"What are you?" Melia looked up, paused, and grinned.

"Just your friendly, neighborhood dragon!" The group froze, stared at her…and let out a joyous, heartfelt laugh. It was clear they didn't believe her.

How wrong they were. Jeblaw Tenderfoot was a cantankerous old coot, and even he could begrudgingly admit that there was "Somethin' peculiar about that funny little gnome," which was all Belgin could get out of him. The two old farts had been something of rivals for their entire lives, so Belgin was a little surprised when Jeb told him over a pint that the Tenderfoots were heeding the call.

Not every halfling in Eastshire was willing to listen to the ramblings of a [Cleric], even when they believed he was telling the truth and wasn't seeing hallucinations at the bottom of his mug. Some families simply didn't want to uproot, and Belgin couldn't blame them. He was getting on in years, reaching 72 summers this very year, and though he still had a good few decades ahead of him, those were his twilight years and weren't meant for sudden, drastic changes.

He'd be lucky to see the first foundations being dug for the new hall, let alone any increase in crop yield as they began settling in. Or, at least, that's what he thought this morning. He was speechless as he watched the gnome move. He didn't know nothin' 'bout no dragons, save that's where adventurers went to end themselves, and apparently they lived in big caves with lots of jewels. Gnomes lived deep underground, deep as any dwarf, so maybe that's what the girl meant?

She knew what it was like to dig deep into the earth, like a dragon. Though… Belgin ain't ever heard of no diggin' dragon, either. To his utter astonishment, the gnome came up to them (right in the middle of elevenses no less!) and declared that the road was finished. Half of the ruling heads nearly fainted (while the rest kept on eating), and old Gelna Suneyes had the presence of mind to send some of the young fold out to check.

They were hardly gone for the time it took Belgin to eat a roll when they came running back, panting.

"Pa!" A young [Stablehand] shouted, "It's true! There's a road!" The gnome rolled her eyes and dragged some of the old coots out. Belgin could hardly believe his eyes, looking at a long lane that stretched on for miles, where just earlier that day had been spongy, green turf. And yet, the gnome hardly looked winded…or satisfied.

"Which hill do you want me to start with?" She asked. It took Belgin several moments to realize she actually meant to continue.

"Ah," he said weakly.

"I'd say Glenfellow Hall…or Tenderfoot Row," he added hastily, noticing Jeb puff up out of the corner of his eye. If Belgin didn't say anything, there was a good chance he'd be hearing about it tonight. Which reminded him…they needed to source out a good pub in Abbyton. Few human inns would turn away a halfling, but not all of them were well suited to serving Little People. The gnome put a finger on her chin, deep in thought. Eventually she nodded sharply and smiled.

"I can do that!"

"Eh?" Belgin blinked, confused.

"Which one?" Not that it really mattered, since it would take a long, long time to dig out an entire hill-"Both!" The madwoman chirped.

"I figure I can do two in one day." Belgin truly was speechless. He decided to follow along, which spoke to how severely odd this small creature was…since lunch was entirely forgotten.

The gnome stopped at a high point along the path, and if Belgin squinted, he could just barely envision the future entrance to a great halfling hall. It would have a low fence with a postbox, some small shrubbery lining a brickwork walk, leading up to a nice, round door. He'd paint it green, perhaps, or maybe deep blue. Or, if he was feeling particularly pious, perhaps orange. Yellow would be good for the spring months, but that was a long way away.

The gnome motioned for the onlookers to stand back, took a deep breath… and retrieved some unholy contraption from her inventory. Supposedly it was a [Pickaxe], but it looked like the sort of thing a barbarian would use to murder a monster. By size alone, it should have been impossible to wield, being double the gnome's height and width. But she reached back, drawing it behind her in a grand arc… and brought it crashing down in front of her to devastating effect.

It wasn't a small gouge that got removed, but seemingly an entire section of the hill. As if an entire dwarven excavation team with machines and black powder had come down to turn the place into a quarry. And she didn't stop there. The first swing wasn't enough. She swung again. And again. And again. Of course, in hindsight, no one, not even a fabled dragon, could cleave a hill in two with a single strike from a pick. The thought was laughable.

But the group stared, spellbound, as in the span of an hour, she had a tunnel hollowed out and the first support beams installed. Another hour in, the walls had been compacted, the floor had been smoothed, and a cellar had been dug. After yet another hour, several windows appeared peeking out of the hill, as a kitchen, a dining room, and a living room were all built. It even came with multiple chimneys where they could sit around a homely hearth. But the gnome wasn't satisfied.

She declared the first building "good enough for a start," meaning it was safe to walk inside. Belgin could hardly believe his eyes. Although there were no furnishings, this was a brand-new home. It even had paneling on the walls and lacquer on the polished wood floors. An iron chandelier hung in the entryway with candles just waiting to be lit. And yet, as all but two of the spectators rushed into the new building to explore, the gnome wore a frown.

"That went pretty well," she said, wiping a light layer of sweat off her brow, "But I think I can do better." Belgin looked to his long-time accomplice, Jeb, and they shared a look.

"What…do you mean?" He barely dared to ask. She had already done the impossible. A literal miracle. She'd done in hours what would have taken professionals decades. There simply couldn't be better. The gnome gave him a curious look as her strange eyes sparkled.

"How do you feel about magic?"

"Eh?" Both men grunted.

"Magic is magic," Belgin said, as if that answered everything.

"What in Moore's name does magic have to do with buildin' a house?" Jeb spat, as eloquent as ever.

"Then…do you mind if I try?" The gnome asked earnestly. Belgin couldn't see a reason why not, but this was going to be the Tenderfoots' home, not his.

"Do as you please," Jeb said gruffly, by which Belgin understood that he was actually asking nicely. The gnome showed them a splendid smile that took up her entire face and backed up. The two men made to follow her, but as soon as they moved, she stopped them.

"I'm going to need some space," she said.

"A LOT of space." Belgin didn't know how much room a gnome needed to cast magic, but then again, he wasn't a magic-man himself. So he stood next to Jeb as the gnome scurried away. She was already pretty small, so it didn't take long for her to disappear from sight.

"What's she playin' at?" Jeb muttered. Honestly, Belgin was curious too. He knew Jeb would have liked to complain more, but the fact that one hall had been built already was enough to silence any doubts. And then the world ended as a great shadow fell over them… or so Belgin's heart felt as he trembled in fear. A gigantic dragon formed on the other side of a hill, and the head, which had to be the size of a building on its own, turned to face them. The eye, eerily familiar to the gnome's… winked at them.

Then it raised a claw… and the hill was gone." Oh ho ho," the dragon's voice floated down to them. It was like the gnome's, only much deeper. And infinitely more terrifying." This is so much easier than using a pick." Tell that to the dwarves, Belgin thought before catching himself. How was it possible he was having such an irreverent thought? Maybe it was how his mind chose to cope before, surely, the dragon ate them. But it did not.

Instead, it continued to dig, and as the hill vanished, he understood why a certain creature might choose to dig with its hands instead of a tool. The dragon had done in seconds what it had taken the gnome hours to do. And not only that…

but Jeb's new home had two cellars. Belgin groaned; he could already hear the gloating. But! What was a burrow without a roof? He was interested to find out. After shaping the inside of the hill, creating a row of housing, the dragon pulled out dirt. Belgin didn't know where it kept the dirt hidden… he didn't know dragons had inventories… because, honestly, he'd never spared a single thought for dragons before today. But out came the dirt and the dragon molded it like clay.

She recreated the same rolling hills that had been there just minutes before, albeit in dreary, brown mud. She then took a deep breath. Belgin's hand instinctively flew to the top of his head (even though he wasn't wearing a hat). He could have sworn the dragon's breath was sucking in the world. And, though he was no [Mage], he could feel magic moving. Eventually, she had her fill, and she breathed out. No fire came, but Belgin thought he saw something with green sparkles. But he blinked, and it was gone.

For a very brief moment, nothing changed. Until the grass started to grow. Now, Belgin had been a [Gardener] all of his life. He was a pretty good one, too, if he did say so himself. Therefore, he was able to say with some certainty that the giant beast had just used [Infuse]. It was a skill [Gardening] shared with [Druids], and it breathed fresh life into plants. Grass sprouted from the dirt, growing in thick, hearty clumps as it rapidly blanketed the earth.

"Moore's Mercy," Jeb breathed from beside him, and Belgin agreed. The dragon grinned, a terrifying, heart-stopping grin with massive fangs on display. It raised a claw…and beckoned them closer." Well?

"She boasted." What do you think?" Jeb couldn't talk, and neither could Belgin. They were frozen, rooted to the spot, their hearts beating a mile a minute.

"It's nice, as far as hills go," a voice said from behind them. Belgin turned to see a young human woman with a bow slung across her back and an absolutely enormous maid following her. He had no idea who these two were, but he wondered how they weren't cowering in fear.

"I think you've terrorized our new neighbors more than enough," the woman said with a smirk. Belgin said a quick prayer for her soul; surely, after being so disrespectful, she was about to get eaten." Ah," the dragon said, stooping low to peer in their faces. Jeb silently passed out. The maid quickly stepped in, picked him up, and took him back to the now-needless lunch pavilion. The human girl had the stones to walk up to the dragon, pat it on the snout, and peer into Tenderfoot Row.

After several minutes she came back out, wearing an impressed smile.

"Not bad, if you're a shortie," she said.

"Pretty good work."" I guarantee that for at least 500 years," the dragon said. Belgin wondered if dragons were big on insurance.

"Right," the girl shook her head.

"Well, Lethia said it was time for you to feed, so I came to get you. I'm betting you worked up an appetite, so let's go. What's it going to be today? More [Crimson Cattle]?"" Oooooooh," was all the dragon said, lowering her head to the ground. To Belgin's utter shock, the human girl climbed right on. The dragon flapped her wings, but before it took off, it turned to him." It was nice meeting you,"she said in a bizarrely polite tone. Belgin simply gave the beast a blank stare."

If you're in the area, drop by my lair. I'll have you for lunch."" Wording, Meliastraza," the human girl sighed. The dragon rolled her eyes." I mean I'll serve you lunch. Halflings like tea, yes? If I'm home, come by." She flapped her wings, lifted off the ground… and she was gone. Belgin stood there in complete shock, utterly and undeniably confused. His entire world had been turned upside down, and, heck, tossed off a cliff where it tumbled to a stop in an unbelievable heap. He simply…

stared into the distance where the dragon disappeared. After several moments, he became aware that he wasn't the only one staring. A tall human, the Bishop who welcomed them here, stood behind him with several of the abbey's brothers.

"Who was that?" Belgin muttered. The gnome never even offered her name.

"Ah," Bishop Larkin chuckled.

"That was Meliastraza Obsidianheart. Other than that…who can really say who she is?"