Chapter 10: The Iron Deficit and the Art of the Joint
Day Five in the Silent Death Forest began not with a roar, but with the rhythmic, grinding sound of a whetstone.
Kael sat cross-legged on a large flat rock near the stream, his Durable Steel Axe in his lap. The morning mist was still clinging to the surface of the water, swirling like phantom dancers. The air was cool and moist, carrying the scent of damp moss and the sharp, spicy aroma of the cedar planks they had cut yesterday.
Shhhk. Shhhk. Shhhk.
He worked the blade in slow, deliberate circles. Even though the System-created tools were incredibly durable, Kael found a strange sense of centering in maintaining them. It separated the chaos of survival from the order of civilization.
"A sharp tool is the best tool," Kael murmured to himself, testing the edge with his thumb. It feel sharp but he felt hungry. after doing all this.
Nearby, Noir was engaged in his own morning ritual. The massive Level 74 Shadow Panther was sprawled out in a patch of sunlight that had broken through the canopy. He was meticulously grooming his obsidian fur, pausing occasionally to yawn, revealing a set of fangs that could crush a tank.
"We have a big day today, partner," Kael said, splashing some cold stream water onto his face.
Noir's ear twitched, but he didn't open his eyes. 'You said that yesterday. And the day before. Every day is a big day with you.'
Kael chuckled. He walked over to their "warehouse"—the neat stack of fifty Silver-Bark Cedar planks. They were beautiful. The wood had a reddish-gold hue, and the grain was tight and straight. This wasn't just lumber; it was luxury material.
"Today," Kael announced, "we put in the floor and after this no more sleeping on the dirt and No more bugs crawling under the tent."
He approached the raised foundation frame they had finished two days ago. It was a sturdy square of Ironwood, leveled perfectly. Now, he just needed to nail these cedar planks onto the frame.
He pulled up his System interface.
"System, inventory check. How many Iron Nails do I have left?"
[Inventory: Iron Nails (Standard) x 12]
Kael froze. He blinked at the blue screen. "Twelve? That's it?"
He quickly did the mental math. His Intelligence stat kicked in, processing the geometry instantly.
"Okay. I have a 6 by 6 meter floor. I have 50 planks. Each plank needs at least four nails to be secure—two at each end. That's 200 nails minimum. If I want them secure in the middle too, that's 300 nails."
He looked at his Mana bar.
[Current Mana: 140/140]
"System, cost to create: Box of 300 Iron Nails."
[Calculated Cost: 60 Mana.]
"Sixty Mana?" Kael grimaced. "That's half my tank. But wait... I also need nails for the walls. And the roof. And the furniture. And the door hinges."
He started calculating the total iron cost for the entire house. The number was astronomical. To build a standard Earth-style house using nails and brackets would require thousands of Mana points worth of iron.
And If he kept doing this, he would spend days just meditating to recover Mana, turning his "Slow Life" into a "Waiting for the Loading Bar" life.
"This isn't efficient," Kael sighed, dropping the hammer he had just picked up. "I'm thinking like a modern human. I'm addicted to convenience."
He sat down on the edge of the foundation frame, legs dangling. He picked up a cedar off-cut and turned it over in his hands.
"What i do...now" he is said.
" Hmmm..... How did they do it before in old times ?" he asked the trees. "How did they build temples that stood for a thousand years without a single scrap of metal?"
A memory surfaced.
In his previous life, during those lonely nights in his studio apartment, Kael often watched videos to fall asleep. Not anime, but some tranding videos. And where he saw a video of ancient craftsmanship video. He remembered a documentary about Japanese Miyadaiku (shrine carpenters) and traditional Chinese architecture.
They didn't use nails. They used geometry.
"Mortise and Tenon," Kael whispered.
He visualized it. You cut a hole (Mortise) in one piece of wood and a protruding tongue (Tenon) in the other. You slide them together. If the fit is perfect, friction holds them forever. No iron. No rust. No waste.
"It requires skill," Kael mused. "But because of my high intelligence stats i remember it all. I have steady hands to do it all. And most importantly... I have all the time to do this."
He stood up, his eyes gleaming with a new challenge.
"Hayy....We're doing this in traditional way."
He needed new tools. A hammer was useless for this. He needed precision chisels to carve the wood like butter.
He closed his eyes, focusing his visualization. He pictured the tools he had seen in those videos—beautiful, lethal-looking chisels with Japanese oak handles and laminated steel blades.
'Create: Set of Oire Nomi (Bench Chisels). Sizes: 6mm, 12mm, 24mm. Logic: High-carbon steel edge, impact-resistant handle.'
[Cost: 15 Mana.]
'Create: Sashigane (Carpenter's Square). Logic: Flexible steel, marked in millimeters.'
[Cost: 2 Mana.]
'Create: Marking Knife. Logic: Single bevel, razor sharp.'
[Cost: 1 Mana.]
Three beautiful tools materialized on the wooden frame. Kael picked up the 24mm chisel. It was heavy, balanced perfectly.
"Noir!" Kael shouted. "Wake up!.... We have lot's off work to do."
Noir lifted his head, a look of profound boredom on his feline face. 'Does this involve me pulling things until they break?'
"No," Kael grinned. "This involves precision. I need you to hold the wood steady. Like a living vice."
Kael dragged the first cedar plank onto the frame. He measured carefully with the square. He used the marking knife to score a line across the wood. The knife severed the wood fibers cleanly, leaving a crisp, visible scratch.
"Okay. This is the Tenon."
He set the chisel on the line. He raised his wooden mallet.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound was different from hammering a nail. It was softer, more rhythmic. Tap-tap-cut.
Kael shaved away thin layers of the cedar. The wood curled up in perfect, aromatic ribbons. It was incredibly satisfying. With his high Strength and Agility, he had total control. He didn't need to hack at it; he just pushed, and the steel tool obeyed.
He cut a rectangular tongue on the end of the plank.
Then, he moved to the Ironwood foundation beam. This was the hard part. Ironwood was... well, hard as iron.
"This is going to take some force."
He placed the chisel. He struck the mallet harder.
THOCK.
The chisel bit in. Kael carved out a deep, rectangular socket in the beam. It took twenty minutes of focused work just for one joint. Sweat dripped from his nose, landing in the sawdust.
"Moment of truth," Kael breathed.
He lifted the cedar plank. He aligned the tongue he had carved with the hole in the beam.
"Noir, push that end gently."
Noir nudged the plank with his massive nose.
Kael tapped the end of the plank with his mallet.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
The wood slid in. It was a tight fit—an interference fit. The friction squealed slightly, then silenced as the joint seated home.
Kael tried to wiggle the board.
It was solid. It felt like it had grown out of the beam. It was fused.
"Look at that," Kael whispered, running his finger over the seamless joint. "No nails. No gaps. That is stronger than anything I could have bought."
A notification chimed softly in the air.
[Skill Upgraded!]
[Lumberjack Lv. 3 -> Woodworking Lv. 1]
[New Title Acquired: Apprentice Joiner]
[Intelligence +1]
"It gave me Intelligence?" Kael laughed. "I guess figuring this out counts as brain training."
He looked at the remaining 49 planks. Then at the four sides of the frame.
"aaahhhh...This is going to take forever," Kael admitted.
Then he looked at the single installed board. It looked elegant. It looked deliberate. It looked like something a Master Builder would make, not a castaway survivor.
"But it's going to be worth it."
For the rest of the day, the clearing was filled with the sounds of the tap-tap-tap of the mallet and the scritch of the chisel.
It was slow work. Incredibly slow. By the time the sun began to lower, painting the sky in violent shades of violet and crimson, Kael had only installed ten planks.
He sat back, his back aching, his hands covered in fine dust. He looked at his progress. It was just a small strip of floor, but it was perfect. The boards were flush, smooth, and locked together with a geometry that felt almost magical.
"Hey, Noir," Kael called out softly.
The panther was currently resting his chin on the finished section of the floor, enjoying the smell of the fresh cedar.
"I think we made the right choice," Kael said, wiping his hands on his apron. "This house... it's going to have a soul.And you can't buy a soul with Mana. You have to sweat for it."
Noir let out a low purr. He didn't care about the philosophy of architecture. He just knew that this wood felt warmer and nicer than the cold dirt. He extended a claw and gently scratched the wood, leaving a tiny mark.
"Heyyy!... What the fuck are you doing" Kael scolded lightly, tossing a wood chip at him. "Don't mark the merchandise."
As the twin moons rose—the large white pearl and the small red jagged shard—Kael didn't rush to finish. He made a fire. He cooked a simple stew using the Hawk meat and some wild tubers he had found while digging.
He ate slowly, watching the firelight dance on the perfectly joined wood.
"Tomorrow," Kael planned, staring into the flames. "We continue the floor. And maybe.... I'll carve some designs into the corner posts. Since we're going the artisan route, why not go all the way?"
He didn't know it yet, but this decision to embrace "The Art of the Joint" was doing something to his internal energy.
Deep inside his body, the [Celestial Dragon's Breath] technique was shifting. It was adapting to his mindset. It wasn't just absorbing raw power anymore; it was starting to seek structure. It was seeking perfection.
The Mana in his core began to weave itself into tighter, denser patterns.
Kael yawned, oblivious to the fact that his very soul was being renovated along with his house.
"Goodnight, Noir," he mumbled, crawling into the tent for what he hoped would be one of the last nights on the ground.
The Silent Death Forest watched him sleep. The wind rustled the leaves, like whispering the news about him to the darkness.
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