My territory is filled with block creations.

Chapter 2, 1 Axe

What can Thorne say about this? He's had this ability since he transmigrated here.

He couldn't very well tell Alex in front of him that this wasn't alchemy, but rather a power from his past life's game, Minecraft, could he?

Therefore, he simply smiled without saying a word, picked up a plank, and walked towards the group of dilapidated houses behind Alex.

Those scattered dozen or so natives seemed to have been completely fooled by Alex and had now become Thorne's subjects. Of course, they might also have been surprised by Thorne's few punches and tree-like strength. Under the objective pressure of force, they all knelt down in a neat row.

Thorne paused somewhat awkwardly as he watched this scene. He had always been a technical talent in the Alchemist's Guild in the royal city, and had never had any experience of being in a superior position.

Seeing this, he could only give an awkward smile and walk around them. But after walking around them, he realized that it seemed a bit impolite, so he turned back and added, "Get up, everyone, I'll go fix those houses."

After he finished speaking, he continued walking towards the dilapidated houses.

Alex, who was kneeling on the ground measuring the cubic wooden planks with a tape measure and figuring out which parts to make, noticed the commotion behind her. She turned around and was somewhat surprised to see the villagers helping each other to their feet and Thorne observing the dilapidated house.

Remembering how people in the capital used to say that the members of her Mechanical Guild were a bunch of mechanical idiots who were bad at communicating, lacked emotional intelligence, and were not good at management, she realized that after seeing Thorne from the Alchemy Association next door, they were all much more adept at social interaction.

Thinking of this, she walked helplessly toward the group of people with her hands on her hips. Although she had never been in a leadership position before, she had at least seen how things work.

She had seen how the bishop of the Mechanical Church manipulated these mechanical nuns and deacons.

Just then, Thorne, engrossed in repairing the house, suddenly heard a chorus of "Thank you, Lord!"

Startled, he instinctively looked up and saw that the civilians who had been lounging around with blank expressions were now kneeling not far from him, shouting in a numb yet loud voice.

Behind them stood Alex, hands on hips, with an expression that said, "I'm so awesome."

After her gaze followed her own, she didn't forget to give herself a thumbs up, as if to say, "How was that? Wasn't I awesome?"

Thorne didn't know whether Alex was awesome or not, but he was in an awkward situation right now, his toes constantly digging into his boots.

Dead wooden board, move it already! How embarrassing.

As Thorne thought this, he quickened the transformation of the wooden plank in his hand. In just an instant, the hard and solid plank seemed to turn into putty, which was then pasted onto the hole in the wooden wall in front of him. Apart from the different texture and color, it was virtually indistinguishable from the original wooden wall.

Alex, who was expecting to receive a grateful look, watched helplessly as Thorne refused to communicate. However, she quickly realized that there was something more important going on.

She had just seen the wooden plank in Thorne's hand, shaped like clay, flowing and changing shape freely in his hands before finally being pasted onto the hole in the house.

Why had I never heard those old fogies from the Mechanical Church mention this ability to freely control the form of matter when I was in the capital?

You know, the hardest part of building a machine from scratch is sifting iron sand from the mountains—oh wait, that's a bit too early. The hardest part is making all sorts of intricate metal parts.

Although Thorne's current ability can only control the shape of the wooden planks, it's already pretty impressive. At worst, he can first make a model with the planks, then bury the model in the sand to make a mold, and then refine it after casting.

Even if it's not a one-step process, the production efficiency of such a new machine can still be increased several times over.

Thinking of this, her resentment towards those old fogies in the Mechanical Church, whose minds were as thick as lard, intensified.

How can you manage machinery well when you're with those insects?

Alex, feeling sullen, picked up the measuring tape again and started gesturing on the wooden board, muttering curses under her breath.

Then, remembering some mysterious mechanical doctrines, the void swore an apology for the mechanical god whose existence was unknown, and continued to mutter curses.

Soon, Thorne had repaired the houses, which were still largely intact, to the point that they were completely airtight. After all, construction was a piece of cake for him.

Unlike the apathetic villagers, Alex quickly put away her measuring tape after seeing that all the houses had been repaired. She looked around the houses with great interest, wondering where she could make do for the night.

If all else fails, you could discuss it with Thorne and the two of you work together to build a relatively decent house, as a substitute for... what was it called again? Oh! City Hall!

Although calling it the village chief's hut would be more appropriate based on its size, the town hall sounds more grand and impressive.

Thorne, clearly more curious about others than the overthinking Alex, looked at the villagers whose houses had been repaired but who remained apathetic, and asked with some curiosity, "Your houses are all repaired, so why do you all seem so unhappy?"

The villagers stood there, looking at each other, no one speaking, just silently keeping their heads down, none daring to look up.

Seeing this, Thorne assumed they were afraid of strangers, or perhaps of him, their so-called lord. He didn't say anything else, simply waving his hand to let them return to their repaired homes.

The ragged people scattered as if granted a pardon, quickly heading towards the house and disappearing from sight.

Lester was one of these people. He mechanically returned to the drafty wooden hut where he had previously lived, now the gaps that used to let in air had been completely sealed with clean oak planks.

He still remembered the tattered cloth he had used to plug the hole in the fireplace. It was a coarse wool coat that his mother had made for him to wear when he got married before the village was plundered. Later, after the village was plundered by undead monsters and the houses were destroyed, he used that coat to plug the drafty gaps in the house.

Now, the dirty coat has been shaken clean, and as most of the dust has disappeared, its original dirty yellow wool texture has been revealed. It is now hanging on a rather awkward square hook.

Lester glanced at the small hook; its color and material were exactly the same as the oak planks that filled the gaps in the house.

Somewhat bewildered, he reached up and scratched the back of his head, picking off a few lice and casually flicking them to the ground. He didn't understand how the little hook was made, nor did he understand why the oak planks used to patch the holes felt like clay in the hands of the tall man who was supposedly his lord.

He couldn't understand why that person would help them repair their house without taking anything away, and without even letting them say thank you.

Thinking of this, he scratched the back of his head in confusion. His fingernails, which hadn't been cut in a long time, scratched the back of his head. With a sharp pain on the top of his head, he seemed to remember something and looked at the old iron axe that he had placed on the door.

The axe had been snatched from under him by the short-haired woman outside, but the lord did not take it. Instead, he continued to beat the trees in the forest with his superhuman fists.

As for the axe, he kept shifting his body when the woman wasn't paying attention, and then secretly hid the axe on his person while she was kneeling on the ground to thank him.

I got my axe back, but lord... hitting a tree with your fist must hurt a lot, right?

Lester thought for a moment, picked up his axe, and slowly walked out of the house.