The high, pitched roof of the greenhouse glowed faintly under the weakening afternoon sun. Inside, the air was still, unnaturally warm, and smelled faintly of fresh pine and the rich, earthy scent of packed soil. Outside, however, the late autumn chill was immediate and aggressive.
Jacob stood beside the completed structure, basking in the success of the roof enchantment, but the reality of the farm quickly intruded. Ellis and Tom, who had worked tirelessly helping Arthur hammer and lash the framework together, were huddled together, blowing into their hands.
"That roof of yours is a marvel, Jacob," Ellis said, stamping his feet. "Not a drop of water will get in there, and the light is like liquid gold. But my fingers are seizing up. We still have the feed trough to fix before the dark."
Tom nodded, his breath clouding heavily in the air. "That warm dirt will be nice for the grass, but it does little good for the hands outside the walls."
Sera, who had been sitting near the wagon, was also rubbing her arms, her simple peasant dress offering little defense against the damp cold.
Jacob knew the labor was important, but his priority shifted the moment he noticed Sera rubbing her hands to stay warm.
He wanted her to be comfortable. Her laughter made the chores feel lighter, and he would ensure the winter wouldn't steal that away from her.
I should have planned for this, he thought, recalling his old gamer habits. He had solved the dungeon boss, but forgotten the debuffs on his party members.
"Bring me your jackets," Jacob commanded, turning to the two farmhands. "And your gloves. Both of you."
Ellis and Tom exchanged a skeptical glance. Arthur, who was stacking leftover planks nearby, simply smiled. He knew what was coming.
Ellis, hesitant, slowly peeled off his threadbare wool tunic, the fabric stiff with sweat and grime. "It's thin, Mage. It won't hold much of anything."
"It doesn't need to hold much," Jacob replied. He laid the tunic flat on a clean plank. He had no complex circuits to draw on the fragile fabric. His old methods, which relied on fixed anchor points and rigid lines, would simply rip the wool apart.
He pulled out his inscription tool, mithril shining in the light. Channeling his magic, he visualized a bright sunny day as he impressed a simple comfort rune on the thin field that the cloth provided.
This garment is protection from the cold. It keeps the core warm and dry, allowing the wearer to work without pain or distraction.
He asked for comfort, not heat and protection, instead of fire.
The mana flowed effortlessly. The rune shimmered for a moment before the magic sank in, leaving no visible trace.
"Put it on, Ellis," Jacob instructed.
Ellis, still doubtful, pulled the tunic over his head. The moment the fabric settled against his skin, his eyes widened. The skeptical slump of his shoulders straightened.
"Gods above," Ellis murmured. He flexed his arms. "It's not hot, but it's like sitting by the stove. The wind just disappeared."
Tom was next. He offered his thick, stiff gloves. Jacob repeated the process quickly, drawing a Warmth rune on the cuff of each glove and visualizing the sensation of always-flexible, capable fingers. When Tom pulled the gloves on, he immediately began flexing his hands, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"I can actually feel the wood grain with these," Tom exclaimed, lifting a plank. "They usually feel like blocks of ice."
Jacob turned to Sera, who watched the exchange with shining eyes. She didn't have a jacket to offer, only the thin dress she was wearing.
"Sera, come here," Jacob said gently.
She walked forward. Jacob knew he couldn't simply enchant the dress without it being intrusive. He instead took the heavy, square-cut bolt of leftover thatch membrane. He tore off a rectangular piece, crude and unhemmed.
"This is temporary," he told her. He laid the piece of thatch on the ground. He didn't use a rune. He placed both hands on the material and sent a clear visualization as he thought, This shawl is soft, comfortable, and provides continuous warmth to the wearer, shielding her from the harshness of the outside world.
The thatch, which should have been stiff and brittle, softened under his hands, becoming pliable and feeling like heavy wool. The golden filter enchantment from the roof lingered, giving the fabric what looked like an inner glow.
"Wrap this around you," Jacob instructed.
Sera took the improvised shawl. She didn't question the method, simply wrapping it around her shoulders.
As the cloth touched her neck, the low, humming melody she had been maintaining for the whole day intensified slightly, confirming that the magic had harmonized perfectly with her own supportive essence. She was comfortable, and Jacob felt his own mental clarity increase dramatically in response.
Arthur watched the entire exchange. He walked over to Jacob, his gaze sweeping over the miraculously warm farmhands and the satisfied girl.
"That cost us nothing but a few minutes of time," Arthur stated, his voice impressed. "If you can do that with a tunic, imagine what you can do for the fields, boy."
The work ethic of the farmhands, suddenly warm and invigorated, surged. They returned to their chores with renewed energy, lifting and digging faster than they had all week. Jacob had secured his labor. The logistics were solved, for now.
Jacob looked past the thriving skeleton of the greenhouse toward his home, where the cores were still sitting in their jar.
He knew what the chaotic structure deep inside the monster cores looked like, and the complex, faceted geometry he needed to shape them into. He hadn't been able to force that shape before, but now, he didn't have to.
Jacob dusted the chalk and sawdust from his hands, smiling with confidence.
I just need to ask the cores nicely to be the perfect shape, he thought.
He turned and walked toward the house, his focus settling, not on the greenhouse he had built, but on the small jar on his shelf containing the expensive Earth Cores.