Morning came beneath low clouds.
They hung heavy over the village, gray and unmoving, as if the sky itself was uncertain whether to bless what was being built below. Damp air clung to skin and stone alike, carrying the scent of turned earth, wet ash, and old smoke. Yet despite the weight overhead, the village was awake, fully awake, for the first time since the raid.
Amon stood at the edge of the cleared perimeter where the old barricade had once leaned, rotted, and broken. The remains of it lay piled behind him, splintered wood and rusted nails that would never serve as protection again.
Villagers gathered at a cautious distance, tools in hand, watching him with a mixture of anticipation and unease.
Vanessa stood closest, arms folded beneath her cloak.
"You're certain about this?" she asked quietly.
"Yes," Amon replied.
"This wall," she continued, eyes sweeping the marked perimeter, "it will surround the entire village. That's no small undertaking. Even with magic."
"A person must do what they must to survive," Amon said.
He stepped forward, boots sinking slightly into the soft soil, and knelt. Pressing his palm flat against the ground, he closed his eyes.
The sensation spread instantly.
Roots.Stone.Moisture.Compressed layers of earth responding like nerves brushed by a familiar hand.
Amon inhaled slowly.
"Everyone, stand back," Vanessa called, raising her voice. "Farther than that."
The villagers obeyed, retreating toward the inner edge of the settlement. Gemma watched from near the forge's ruins, hammer resting against her shoulder, eyes sharp with interest.
Amon held both hands out.
This time, his flesh did not answer.
The land did.
Stone stirred beneath the surface, not violently, not explosively, but deliberately. Rock rose in broad, slow slabs, grinding together as it emerged. But unlike raw earth magic, it did not fracture or crumble.
Green veins spread across the stone as it surfaced.
Not vines.
Not roots.
Something subtler.
Plant magic threaded itself through the rock, growth guided carefully, reinforcing weaknesses rather than overwhelming them. The stone darkened slightly, surface smoothing as its structure reorganized itself from the inside out.
Amon's brow furrowed.
"…Good," he murmured.
The wall began to take shape.
It was not straight.
It curved naturally with the land, rising where the ground dipped and lowering where bedrock ran dense and thick beneath the soil. Each segment locked into the next with seamless precision, edges knitting together as if they had always been part of the same whole.
As the stone settled, it changed.
Hairline cracks sealed themselves. Weak points thickened. Where stress formed, the material adapted, layers compacting, reinforcing, redistributing pressure like a living muscle beneath the skin.
[Subskill: Evergrowth Stone]
Sweat beaded along Amon's brow. This was not a simple construction. He could feel the land trying to remain fixed a rigged, but he could not falter.
Gemma let out a low whistle. "That's…one hell of a sight."
The villagers watched as crenellations formed naturally along the top of the wall, shaped by thickened stone ridges rather than carved design. Narrow slits opened at measured intervals, arrow ports formed by instinctive spacing rather than calculation.
When the final section locked into place, the ground shuddered once.
Then stilled.
The wall stood.
Tall.Broad.Quietly formidable.
Its surface bore faint green tracery beneath dark stone, barely visible unless the light caught it just right, like veins beneath bark.
Amon swayed.
Vanessa was there instantly, gripping his arm.
"Amon."
"I'm fine," he said, though his breath was unsteady.
"You used a lot of mana, didn't you?" she said quietly.
"Yes," he admitted. "But I will be fine in time
"And the wall, what is it made from?"
"It's something created. It will repair itself," Amon replied. "Slowly. Constantly. And if it's threatened…" His amber eyes hardened. "I'll feel it."
The villagers murmured, not in fear, but awe.
One man placed a tentative hand against the stone. "It's warm," he whispered.
Another pressed his ear against it. "It's… quiet. But not empty."
Gemma snorted. "Yeah. Don't listen too hard. Land that listens back tends to make people uncomfortable."
Vanessa turned to face the villagers.
"This wall," she said steadily, "Will be our shield to protect us, unlike that night," Vanessa spoke as she placed a hand against the wall.
"Allow me some time to rest, then we shall move onto the farm fields...the food stored will only last two more days at best," Amon said as he drank some water that Abigail gave him.
"Amon, are you okay?" Abigail asked with a worried expression. She saw Amon out of breath and sweating.
"Don't worry, Abigail...I'm okay, really," Amon said, forcing a smile and patting her head to reassure her.