Chương 67: House of Glass

Melia spent longer than she'd like to admit simply wandering the streets of the First Act. After all the monsters had been killed and their bodies despawned, it really did feel like wandering through a particularly lively town. Even if nobody paid her any attention or noticed her presence at all. Or perhaps that was a good thing? Between the perpetually sunny sky where the sun didn't budge an inch and the oblivious murmuring crowd, Melia lost all track of time.

At some point, she remembered that her friends had traveled to Lakeridge, and she was going to have to catch up with them. Melia practically flew out of the dungeon, out of the mansion, and into the darkness of the cool mountain air in the dead of the night. Blinking up at the pale moon, Melia realized there was at least one way to partially check the time, even if she didn't have a clock on her: the dungeon lockout.

[Obsidian Mansion] First Act: Complete Final Act: Complete Full reset: 5 days, 5 hours, 53 minutes.

Melia grimaced but relaxed. Somehow, she had spent almost seven hours inside the First Act alone. While better than something insane (like a hundred years passing), Melia decided she didn't want to potentially waste even more time before getting back to her friends. She decided that, in the interests of fun and experiencing new and exciting things together, she would wait to explore the other Acts until she could do them with her team.

Melia was sure they'd get a blast out of the First Act and was impatient to finally get to see them run it. But for any of that to happen, she needed to find them first. Once again, Melia had set something in motion without really thinking things through. How was she supposed to find everybody?

Chatgems were powerful, but their range wasn't nearly that long, and Melia wasn't carrying around any other types of long-distance communication, which in this world weren't as simple (or compact) as slipping a cell phone into a pocket. And then Melia remembered she was a dragon and she could literally cheat. She turned back into her real form, making sure to go far enough into the clearing to not partake in any impromptu demolition, shaking herself off.

Turning back into her large body always felt a little bit like emerging from a deep pool of water; everything that had been muted suddenly felt loud and alive, and she instinctively felt the need to rustle herself down as if she was covered in water. Melia closed her eyes, lifted her snout into the air, and took a deep breath. … something very tasty smelling was about a mile to the north, but that had the same flavor as cooked steak, quite unlike the smell of princess or treasure. So that was out. For now.

Speaking of princess, Melia diverted her attention to the west. Perhaps it was her imagination, or maybe she was just secretly craving cinnamon rolls, but Melia got the feeling her [Crown Jewel] was over that way. It was slowly being joined by feather-duster, which made Melia wrinkle her nose. She had three distinct feather duster smells… so were those her retainers?

Actually, now that she focused on them more intently, only two were actual feather dusters, while the third was suspiciously more like one of those cat toys with the feather on the end of a stick. L'menia. Melia shook her head. She couldn't really tell where they were, and only got the faintest hint of them when she intently focused on them, like a blip of a radar detecting something on the very edge of its radius. As soon as her mind wandered somewhere else, her treasure's whereabouts were instantly lost.

It was, at least, enough to tell her one of her [Retainers] was relatively close by, a little to the southwest, while the other was further to the east. It seemed to be clumped together with four other silvery smells and something much closer to a million-watt flashlight pointed straight into her eye. Ah. So that must be Brandy. Melia blinked, even though the light wasn't real and she had her eyes closed in the first place, wincing at the imaginary dots her mind had conjured.

As soon as Melia opened her eyes, all traces of her treasures vanished, even Brandy's bright spot, but it was enough to give her more than a vague guess. Melia nearly took to the skies to be reunited with the beacon, but she held off. The words she'd heard the other day reminded her that real people needed real space, and she shouldn't cling to them so tightly that they got smothered. Besides, her [Retainers] promised they'd watch over her friends, and Melia trusted them.

With restraint holding her back (for now), Melia decided to let [Sunrise] have an adventure without her, and she looked forward to a story when they eventually met up. Instead, her growing curiosity got the better of her. What was L'menia doing over here all by herself? Melia shrouded herself in [Stealth] and took off flying. Because it was late at night and most reasonable people were probably asleep, Melia decided to investigate the smell of food first.

Normally, she didn't smell any monster in particular, so one sticking out so clearly intrigued her. Strangely, once she found the thing (a level 700 [Thunder Lizard]), there wasn't anything unique about it that should have called it to her attention. It wasn't a unique, rare, or named mob, and it wasn't part of any quest or drop-chain. It was very tasty (somewhat gamey, lean with smoky undertones), but otherwise had no reason to stick out. Maybe it was because it was the highest-level mob in the area?

The closest one to Melia's current position? It certainly had all the wolves and [Wololol] beat. Perhaps she would never know, other than making a mental note of a good snack spawn location.

By the time Melia turned her attention back to her treasure sense, the feather-toy hadn't moved and the sun was starting to rise, so Melia figured it was time to investigate. She flew over the mountains and the ruins of her ex-mansion-turned-dungeon, scowling at the reminder of her lost property. Maybe it was for the best. She spent her entire life in isolation in her old world; there was no reason to self-impose the same restrictions on herself here.

While the mansion had been relatively close to civilization (as the dragon flies), maybe she'd try setting up shop closer to the abbey, where she could finally work on some of those projects she'd placed on the back burner. In particular, she had all the enchanted plates of glass in her inventory required to make quite the impressive greenhouse. Steak was good, but Melia was a greedy dragon, and she wanted exotic things like fruits and veggies for her side dishes. Maybe some cherry trees or pineapples for dessert?

Melia wasn't sure how greenhouses were supposed to work in real life, but in games, they had always been a sort of "congratulations, you can do what you want now!" Especially in those harvest -style farming games where the player spends more time trying to romance ineligible bachelors than they do growing crops.

By the time she reached the halfway point to finding her [Retainer], Melia realized the tigerkin was either in the abbey itself or otherwise very close to it. Melia smiled; that was good. Maybe she could kill a few birds with one stone. She tried setting herself down gently in what appeared to be a large enough clearing on the northeast edge of the Abbyton valley, but she misjudged her size. Melia slowed her approach, hovered momentarily, and let herself drop what she felt was only a couple of feet…

on top of at least a barn-sized amount of trees. A loud crash rang out as tall pines and oaks snapped like brittle twigs beneath her weight, echoing through the rest of the forest. Birds and small animals added their own panicked cries as they fled the scene of destruction, desperately trying to avoid the fate of several unfortunate wolves. The flattened woodland bore a striking resemblance to a certain dragon's backside, though few existed who might think to make the comparison. Well! The abbey gained a new field.

Melia reverted back into a gnome, checked her [Stealth], and skittered away before the commotion could draw the attention of any concerned brothers.

Melia's feather-toy was very close by, but she didn't seem to be inside the abbey itself, so Melia gave the building a pass for now. However, something interesting was going on, since most of the brothers Melia had seen always rose before the sun and were already hard at work long before the break of day. Congregated around the entrance to the abbey was a large group of very fancifully dressed individuals.

If Melia had to classify these people into a specific stereotype, they could only be Oxford University professors. They wore long, billowing black robes, with mortarboard hats and long, multicolored mantles denoting their stations. They reminded Melia briefly of that one guy she had to put in his place after giving Ellesea a demerit and otherwise being a total butt.

Melia didn't want to get in the way, so she waited until they began moving and followed them around the side of the building toward her [Enlarged Planter Boxes]. There, Melia found an amusing sight. The tables the brothers had originally set up to observe her enchantments had doubled. Not only were there four tables instead of two, but a semi-permanent pavilion had been erected to provide them with cover from the elements. On top of that, Melia could see that somebody had included mana lighting.

She'd never seen them up close before, at least none that weren't enclosed in a fixture, and Melia found that they were crude, but versatile, little chunks of light grey rocks specially attuned to mana. Already her [Engineering] was telling her she could run a mana conduit across one of the support beams and connect it to a touch-activated switch and powering plate. Melia dodged between the legs of various brothers and scholars as they went about setting up for the day's tasks.

The black-robed folks seemed focused on studying and research, while a good number of brothers were carrying farming equipment. A quick glance over at the [Planters] told Melia the crops were growing splendidly. She made her way over. Both fields were in the middle of harvest, which meant an entire season of growth had passed. Rippling waves of golden wheat swayed in the breeze, while tall, green stalks of corn promised a bountiful yield of meal.

Melia knew little about agriculture and wondered if this corn was good for popping. She made sure she was out of the way of any brother coming or going, pushing heavy carts laden with crops ready to be threshed. Now that she was staring at an entire harvesting operation in the works, Melia could see it was a lot more involved than the six amused people who watched her dig a hole. … perhaps she had inadvertently given these poor folks a lot more work. If need be, she wasn't above apologizing.

Melia took up a position next to some of the more industrial types, who were handling the logistics of the harvest. Some must have had some inventory skills, not to store the goods but to log it all into their records as they scratched rapidly on clipboards. Hopefully, their warehouses could handle the increased load; otherwise, maybe Melia could build them a new barn. Eventually, the scholars in the pavilion became lively with some sort of discovery or revelation, and noisy squabbling drew Melia's attention.

She turned, finding a group of black-robed individuals huddled by one of the [Moai], and Melia had to clamp her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. She hadn't yet turned to see how her stone wardens were faring, but it seemed any worries she might have had about them fitting in were definitely unwarranted. Clearly, the brothers at the abbey had taken more than a passing liking to them if they considered it necessary to deck them out in hats!

There, keeping watch in front of a [Planter], each giant head had been adorned with an equally massive straw hat. The kind of straw hat Melia had only read about in fiction, suitable for sitting on a porch in a rocking chair while playing a banjo, or maybe floating lazily on the current of a slow-moving river while lying on top of a crudely fashioned log raft.

On one of the [Moai], somebody had gone so far as to take a whole stalk of corn and stick it in the statue's mouth, its size relatively comparable to a stick of wheat.

"Bob," Melia heard one of the brothers mutter pleasantly as he passed the statue. The enchantments kicked in and the stone head swiveled to stare at the man as he walked by, in turn dipping the tip of his own hat in greeting. Bob. They named the [Moai] Bob. She couldn't stop the grin as she crept closer, making sure not to bump into anybody who couldn't see her because of her stealth. Which did not seem to be a problem for the [Moai].

As soon as Melia stepped foot into the detection range, the giant stone head swiveled in her direction. Most people nearby didn't react to the statue turning, having become comfortable around the silent watchmen, but a few did. Most notably, the more observant brothers who knew the statues didn't move unless something came close by, and the scholars studying the nearby enchantments. A few perked up curiously, and Melia had to scramble out of the way before she got trampled.

Not that she was afraid of getting hurt, but watching the brothers scratch their heads was surprisingly fun. The [Moai] heads were programmed to face the closest individual after a short delay; that way, they weren't constantly moving around and grinding down the rock. Melia made sure to skitter around, staying as close to it as she could while the slowly growing crowd inched closer, growing more complex by the second.

"What's wrong with Ferdinand?" asked one of the farming brothers. So they named both of them. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"I dunno," replied a more scholarly brother, but not one of the actual scholars. He was wearing robes from the abbey, depicting him as a [Priest] who probably worked in the library or maintained records.

"You think he's busted?" the first guy asked.

"Not a chance," the other guy said. Melia perked up when she heard him say that with such conviction.

"Didn't you hear who made these? Supposedly, it was by the same weird gnome." Okay, so that was a little harsh, but was it wrong? Strictly speaking, no, but it didn't stop Melia from puffing out her unseen cheeks. Melia gave them another dose of "ring-around-the-[Moai]" for their troubles before moving on.

Making her way to the far end of the second field, Melia found three very official-looking scholar-types, one who very well could be a legitimate [Scholar], joined by somebody who could possibly be a [Bishop], making a sort of semi-circle around something she couldn't see. Not one to pass up a good mystery, Melia decided to poke her nose where it probably didn't belong. There, in a (frankly pitiful) attempt to recreate one of her [Planters], was the most scholarly looking scholar who ever scholared.

He wasn't an old man, per se, but he wasn't young either. [Identify] told Melia he was a "Fancy Scholar", which really wasn't all that helpful even if it was what she was thinking, and that his level was in the high 840s. His face was smudged with dirt and soil, but Melia could see multiple laugh lines and wrinkles, which, along with his salt-and-pepper hair, gave him the appearance of someone in his late 50s.

His long mantle was wrapped around his neck several times like a scarf to keep it from dragging in the dirt, and his billowing robes were caked with dry mud. He had his sleeves rolled up, revealing thin forearms most likely unaccustomed to wielding the shovel he held with both hands. … why was a rank 8 clerk of some sort digging a ditch in a field? Melia had to know. She crept to the edge of the hole, which was roughly a dozen feet in diameter, plopped down to let her legs dangle over the side, and listened in.

"Sir, do you really think this is wise?" one of the underlings asked. Even with how fancy their robes and mantles were, could they really be anything else compared to the genuine Fancy Scholar in the pit? Melia thought not.

"Wisdom is knowing when to act upon the knowledge you possess," the man said sagely, making Melia nod along. Looks fancy, sounds fancy…the dude checked out. Fancy Scholar. The underlings disagreed, and one rolled his eyes.

"But sir, how does that relate to…this?" another asked while grimacing. It was clear he thought the manual labor was beneath him (and not just in elevation).

"Hands-on experience, dear boy!" the older man said, wiping a sweaty palm against his brow and dragging a long line of dirt across it.

"Perhaps we could have some of the [Acolytes] assist?" asked the [Bishop]-looking man. He sounded much more amused than the scholars. Who was he to deny another man the chance to dig? All the same, he motioned to two younger gentlemen in simple robes fit for toiling in the soil, each holding shovels. They were well-built and sun-kissed, suggesting they were no strangers to manual labor such as this. One of them even held up a shovel helpfully, as if showcasing he had what it took to dig a hole.

The Fancy Scholar looked up, actually acknowledging the senior clergyman's words. He glanced at the two youth, visibly torn, as if secretly admitting that his body wasn't what it once was, even if he wasn't going to say it out loud. But he eventually shook his head.

"No," he said sadly, shaking his head.

"This is my burden to bear. If I am to pry the secrets from these [Planters], I must do it with my own two hands."

"Surely there must be another way?" one of the lackeys asked in a last-ditch effort to get the man to stop. This time, there was no hesitation.

"No," he said darkly.

"That tigerkin made it quite apparent what she thought of our tampering with the other [Planters]. If we do not wish to be buried in this hole, we cannot tamper with the [Planters] and risk damaging them… or their enchantments." Wait. Melia closed her eyes, sniffing out her feather-duster, which, sure enough, was no longer nearby. L'menia seemed to be traveling east, either to meet up with [Sunrise] or else… do whatever it was her [Retainers] did when they weren't summoned to do her bidding.

But, the thought of L'menia, for whatever reason, stopping by the abbey, only to find somebody vandalizing some [Enlarged Planter Boxes] made by Melia? The gnome was sure the tigerkin could easily find out who made them, simply by [Inspecting] them, which would then turn her from a fun-loving goofball into a furry ball of terror. After seeing what her [Retainers] were like when they got serious, Melia could imagine the threats she leveled against the poor scholars were most dire indeed.

In fact, she found it hilarious and laughed so hard she broke out of [Stealth]. The remaining scholars and clergy jumped, startled at the sudden appearance of a gnome swinging her legs so carefreely on the edge of a pit right next to them. One of the young workers hitched up his tool, though what he thought he might do with it against somebody who'd been hiding amidst them this whole time, Melia couldn't say.

The Fancy Scholar seemed to recognise her, though, which was strange to Melia since his face wasn't familiar at all.

"Ah!" he said, his face lit up with a smile.

"It's you! Melia the Magnificent, if I am not mistaken?" Melia nodded with a small smile and gave a reflexive wave. It seemed his familiarity was minimal at best. That was good; it meant she hadn't simply forgotten him.

"Indeed, I am!" she chirped, "Though I don't know who you are. Sorry."

"Think nothing of it!" the man laughed.

"We've never spoken. I've only seen you from afar, several weeks ago, when you made a demonstration at the Arcanus Scholastia. Such mastery of the arcane is astounding."

"Demonstration?" Melia tilted her head.

"Oh!" Her face darkened slightly.

"You aren't here to punish Ellesea again, are you? I thought that was settled?"

"Heavens, no!" the man said.

"Dean Hamilton has been sufficiently chastised. I assure you, no such lapses in judgment will happen again." Melia tilted her head the other way. That was good and all, but did this guy have the authority to guarantee that?

"Ah! I'm getting ahead of myself," he shook his head.

"Though I may not look it, I am Archmage Izrizar Veloran, Headmaster of Transgracia's Arcanus Scholastia, Thaumaturgical Academy of Horizon! And as it so happens, I've been looking all over for you. If you would have it, I've come to offer you a position at our school!" He certainly did not look like the highest power at the most prestigious magical academy in the land. Closer to [Ditch Digger], if anything. But there was nothing wrong with that, and Melia's answer was the same, regardless.

"Wow!" she gasped, stars sparking in her eyes. Yet, in the same breath, Melia crushed his hopes ruthlessly.

"That's amazing! But no thanks! I'm good!" The men all stared at her, mouths slowly falling open. Especially the younger scholars, who probably had a chip on their shoulder about their school and their headmaster. But the Archmage himself recovered quickly, opting to laugh out loud instead.

"I expected as much!" he roared with laughter.

"It was a long shot, coming all the way down here! System blessed [Archmages] such as yourself are elusive creatures indeed. But, I won't consider it a loss! Over the last few days, I've been able to observe these magnificent workings you've put to motion with my own eyes! I must say, I'm quite jealous of the good folk here at the abbey!"

"You're welcome here any time," the head clergyman said with a chuckle.

"Ah, but I've already pressed your hospitality enough, Bishop Larkin," Veloran said theatrically. He paused to give Melia a look out of the side of his eye.

"Are you sure? Part-time could…?"

"No," Melia said firmly but kindly. She wasn't an adventurer or a teacher; she would join no guilds or academies. That said…she didn't mind taking the occasional student, like Ellesea, or leaving her work open for people to study.

"That would lock me down far too much. I must be free!" she said with a flighty wave of her arms. But her curiosity eventually got the better of her, and she stared back down in the hole.

"So what are you doing?"

"Trying to replicate one of those magnificent [Planters]!" Veloran said shamelessly.

"Anyone else would disguise or obfuscate their spellwork…how could I not attempt to create something so grand?"

"Oh!" Melia gasped.

"Are you a [Mason], too?"

"No?" the man blinked up at her curiously.

"A pity," Melia said.

"That would have made it much easier. I used a recipe to make these, but I could probably reverse engineer the enchantments and tell you how they work." The man stared at her in shock, as if what she suggested should be impossible. Melia felt rather smug, but she limited herself to a small smirk. She knew that to anybody else, it might as well be impossible, but to her, it was as easy as working out a mildly challenging puzzle.

"I see that you are not just a master of the arcane," Veloran said seriously, "But crafting and [Enchanting] too. It's a pity I never met you in my youth…the things I could have learned…."

"Perhaps it's for the best," Bishop Larkin said, "Think of the lives you've already touched. They would be missed."

"I suppose dwelling on wishes and what-ifs is rather moot," Veloran said with a sigh.

"But I can't pass up the offer before me. Archmage Melia: how would you instruct me to complete this [Planter]?" Melia looked down at the man in the hole, and then at the hole itself. She repressed a cringe. He was probably a very impressive man in many fields, but digging down into one, he was not. She couldn't lie to him.

"I don't think anything can save your hole," she said sadly.

"But that doesn't mean I can't help in other ways. Say," she said as her lips curled in a smile, "How do you feel about [Greenhouses]?"

Melia led the small procession of scholars and clergy around to the north side of the abbey, leaving several brothers the unenviable task of filling up the headmaster's failed hole. She wanted the best spot possible, so as the scholars went about setting up another research base, she surveyed the land. The north side of the abbey was filled with tough, uneven, rocky dirt, unsuitable for much besides parking the occasional spare wagon or for specific training needs.

Little grass grew among the hardened ground, and even the trees seemed reluctant to spread their roots nearby. Which was all perfect for Melia, because she didn't really want to take up usable space, anyway. Her schematic for the [Greenhouse] did not require digging into the earth for anything other than a foundation, so it wasn't like she was trying to plant in barren ground. It also had the added benefit of maximizing sun exposure, ensuring rapid growth, even in the winter.

The first thing Melia did was use her skills to flatten and level the ground, preparing for the base. All the while, the scholars bombarded her with questions, which she happily answered while she worked. At first, everybody was stunned speechless that somebody dared to interrupt her while she worked, but after hearing her explain, in relatable detail, each step as she went along, Melia found herself with over a dozen impromptu students.

She chuckled to herself, relying on the system to help her explain things she really had no business understanding. But since she did, she figured she might as well spread it around. She started with a relatively large base, since this was going to be a commercial-grade greenhouse and not some piddly amateur endeavor. When it came to crafting, Melia never did anything by half, and she didn't see a reason to start now. When asked why she didn't simply make a small one, say, 10 by 12 feet?

Melia glared at the man as if he had insulted her firstborn child, and he shut up rather quickly. No, this would not be 10 feet. Melia cleared a space approximately 100 feet by 30 feet, planting down a solid foundation in the ground which would have taken a team of "lesser" builders a week, maybe more, to lay. They might be professionals… but technically, so was Melia. At level 3700, she could do some really crazy stuff.

And, of course, she had already chosen premium materials from her vault precisely for this occasion. Once again, Melia chose [Deepslate] for the base. It worked just fine for the [Moai], and it would work just fine here. As a level 900 building material, it was near-unbeatable… and it looked nice, too. At the very least, it matched. One of the scholars may have passed out when she retrieved it from her inventory, but if that's all it took to end him, he wasn't long for the world anyway.

At regular intervals, Melia set large footings along the slab's perimeter to serve as support beams and to help her guide and visualize the eventual enchantments. For the posts themselves, Melia favored two options. [Adamantite Bars] or [1000-Year Pine Logs]. Both would be incredibly durable, and as she retrieved a sample of each, two more students bit the dust. She waved the headmaster over to ask his opinion: [Adamantite] for structural superiority, or [Pine] for unmatched magical cohesion? The man looked pale.

He took the coward's route and told Melia it was her project and thus up to her… but he redeemed his honor by ultimately admitting he'd never worked with such rare and valuable materials, so Melia let it slide. She eventually chose the [Adamantite]. Not because it was better. The logs would still hold up against a category 5 hurricane, but might not hold out if Melia sat on them in her true form.

She went with [Adamantite] because the rich red hue of the ingots reminded her of the abbey's wine, and she felt it was a fitting tribute. This time, one of the brothers had to take a seat. For a [Greenhouse] with this footprint, the recipe called for a 40-foot roof. Melia didn't know if that was good, bad, or neutral, but she did have the materials. In the end, she needed 120 [Adamantite Bars] for the main supports, and another 40 for the glass pane fittings, several doorframes, and a little accent work.

She may have lost another student, but Melia wasn't paying attention. Besides, those people wouldn't make it through the next step, which was going to separate the builders from the boys. After all, what was a [Greenhouse] without glass? And Melia had the perfect glass for hers. [Managlass]. It wasn't the rarest or most unheard-of thing in existence. It wasn't quite like pulling out [Elementium] in front of a bunch of [Blacksmiths] and watching them melt into a pool of their own saliva.

In fact, it was only a level 750 material. Only. And, of course, every pane in Melia's inventory was a full 5 stars. What made [Managlass] special was the amount of effort (read: mana) required to make it. In the game, [Alchemists] needed to partner with [Mages] and [Enchanters] to make the stuff. [Mages] supplied the actual mana for the glass (in the form of short-lived [Mana Gems]), while [Enchanters] provided [Alfheim Dust], gathered from disenchanting certain gear from select locations.

On top of that, crafting [Managlass] took a considerable amount of mana to imbue when crafting, so if the [Alchemist] didn't have a sufficient mana pool, it would fail. Essentially, it was a ball-ache. But, for what the recipe called for, and what Melia wanted, it was the best option she had. And Melia had lots of options. To top it off? It looked very pretty. When caught from just the right angle in just the right light, each pane of [Managlass] looked like a tangible piece of rainbow.

Melia was certain that by the time she started installing the glass into the framework itself, she was down to two observers. The headmaster and the bishop. Crafting the [Greenhouse] was a multi-hour affair, which was pretty much insane for what it was. Melia constantly stopped to answer questions whenever asked and took her time to explain the process.

She used as simple terms as possible in her reasoning, but even then, she got frustrated when none of the languages she understood could convey her thoughts properly. Sometimes, the words just didn't exist. She was fortunate… or perhaps it should be said Headmaster Veloran was fortunate to be an incredibly learned man, because at one point, she used a total of 4 different languages in a single sentence.

Two of them were somewhat rare with niche dialects, and one that was probably dead and wasn't actually spoken anymore. By the time Melia was fitting in the last few panes of glass, having wormed her way up the roof and balancing perfectly on the crossbeams, Veloran had filled two entire notebooks with minuscule writing. One of them was devoted entirely to the baffling spatial magics that eluded even the most accomplished [Mages].

Once the last pane of [Managlass] was set and sealed, the entire structure erupted briefly with golden light before settling as a completed project.

[Greenhouse XXL] Level: 1500 Rarity: Legendary Quality: 5-stars Made by: Melia the Magnificent Throw no stones in a house made of glass. Unless it is this one. Then feel free.

Melia ignored the flavor text, lest she be tempted to find a bigger rock. Instead, she looked toward the research tables, encouraged by the sight of several [Priests] coaxing their fallen brethren back to life. At her side, Headmaster Veloran stared at the greenhouse in a sort of daze, muttering darkly into his notes as he tried to wrap his brain around the many enchantments.

She watched him enter and exit many times, amused at how she could see the man through the glass, watching as he shimmered slightly upon entering the enlarged internal space, before returning to normal space. Bags of Holding had nothing on her greenhouse: she didn't know the exact square footage of the building, but she might be able to plant an entire forest there. When the man had his fill of doing the hokey-pokey, Melia was about to call out and ask if he had any questions… just as her stomach growled loudly.

The man looked down at her, shocked, but Melia just thought of something amusing and smiled.

"Are you staying at the abbey for long? It's almost lunchtime and I bet I can weasel my way into the kitchen. I'm a pretty decent [Chef] and the sisters might not mind if I make enough food for everybody. Tell me, how do you feel about [Grilled Cheese Sandwiches]?"