Building a house usually meant hard labor—laying foundations, pouring concrete, mixing cement, reinforcing walls with steel. That was how ordinary people did it.
But Luciel was no longer ordinary.
With the mighty rock tortoise as his companion, nearly ninety percent of the usual construction process had become unnecessary. The creature's colossal shell served as a perfect, unshakable foundation—more durable than any slab of stone. Its ability to manipulate and fuse rock eliminated the need for both cement and steel reinforcements. All Luciel and Mino had to do was shape and stack the stone bricks.
And even that task felt almost too easy.
"It's amazing," Mino murmured, placing another stone block carefully along the charcoal outline Luciel had drawn.
As soon as she let go, the new block merged seamlessly with the one below it. There was no gap, no visible joint—just a solid wall of smooth gray stone, as if it had been carved from a single boulder.
"Careful with that side," Luciel called over his shoulder, squinting at the blueprint spread across the tortoise's shell. "Don't build that wall too high. We need space for a window."
He turned back just in time to see that Mino had already built the wall nearly to her height, humming softly as she worked.
Luciel sighed, smiling despite himself. He strode over, pressed his palm to the wall, and used his energy to dislodge a few bricks. They came away effortlessly, leaving behind a neat square opening.
"There. A window."
Mino blinked at it, uncertain. "But… won't thieves climb in through it?" she asked hesitantly.
Her voice was small, almost embarrassed. In the old camp, no one had dared to leave an opening in their huts—too dangerous. Windows were an invitation for thieves, or worse.
Luciel chuckled, reaching over to flick her forehead lightly. "Do you really think any thief could climb up here?"
"Oh." She rubbed her forehead, her rabbit ears drooping, then rising again as realization struck. "Right… we're on Black Tortoise's back."
The massive creature shifted beneath them, as if proud to be mentioned.
Luciel turned back to his work, mentally reviewing the layout. Two bedrooms faced each other across a central hall about thirty square meters wide. The rooms themselves were ten square meters each—cozy, but comfortable enough for two people.
The toilet was set discreetly in a corner of the outer yard, with a drainage channel cleverly directed off the side of the tortoise's shell. That way, the smell would never drift back into the living space. A low half-meter wall encircled the small yard, and a simple gate opened toward the rear.
Luciel even set up a mental signal for the tortoise—a series of gestures that would cause it to raise or lower the stone staircase when needed. Their moving fortress would be completely self-contained, secure, and mobile.
As the day wore on, time slipped by unnoticed. When one worked with purpose, hours flowed together like a river.
By the time Luciel straightened his back, the horizon was awash in shades of orange and crimson. The sun dipped low, painting the clouds in streaks of molten gold.
He exhaled slowly. "It's already evening."
The house before them stood proudly, half-finished but solid—a structure of smooth stone walls and open windows. It had no roof yet, but even so, Luciel felt a deep satisfaction bloom in his chest.
"Wow!" Mino spun in a small circle, her eyes sparkling. "It's really starting to look like a house!"
She clenched her tiny fists in delight. "If we work harder, we can finish it today!"
Luciel smiled, shaking his head. "The roof will take more work. We'll need wooden beams to support the stone tiles. Without them, the whole thing could collapse."
Mino's enthusiasm faltered. "Then… let's go find some wood!" she said quickly, already darting toward the edge of the tortoise's shell.
Luciel caught her by the collar before she could leap off. "No need to rush."
She twisted in his grip, blinking. "Huh? What do you mean?"
He raised an eyebrow. "The people from the camp—they've all evacuated, right?"
Her ears twitched as she thought it through. At that very moment, Luciel mentally reached out to his other companion—the three-color lizard—and sent it to scout the area.
A few seconds later, he felt the creature's confirmation. The camp was empty.
"It's already getting dark," Mino said softly. "So everyone must have gone." Then her eyes brightened as she realized what Luciel was hinting at. "Wait—you mean we can use the wood from the camp?"
Luciel smiled. "Exactly."
"Let's go then!" she said excitedly.
"Black Tortoise," Luciel commanded aloud, his voice calm but firm. "Take us back to the camp."
The tortoise let out a deep, resonant rumble. "Woo…"
The massive body began to move. At first, Mino could hardly tell—everything felt so stable underfoot. Only when the horizon began to shift did she realize they were in motion.
"Wait! We're moving? But… it doesn't feel like it!"
Luciel smiled faintly. "Black Tortoise is dampening the vibrations. A creature this large can shake the ground just by walking—so it adjusts its balance as it moves."
"Wow…" Mino whispered in awe. "That's so clever."
The tortoise's speed was deceptive. Its steps were slow but enormous; each one carried them farther than a dozen human strides. In just ten minutes, the abandoned camp appeared in the distance, ghostly and silent under the fading sunset.
Luciel's connection to the lizard confirmed it again—no life signs, no movement.
"They're really gone," Mino murmured, her voice tinged with loneliness.
From the tortoise's back, she gazed down at the empty settlement. The fire pits were cold, the wooden shacks half-collapsed in the dusk. The place that had once been filled with noise and quarrels now felt lifeless.
Luciel stepped beside her. "How far did they say the Moon Lake Tribe is from here?"
Mino's voice was quiet. "The hunting team said it takes five or six days to reach it."
Luciel frowned slightly, thinking of the Bloodbeard thieves and the chaos they'd caused. "And are there many people there?"
"I heard there might be… ten thousand," Mino said, her eyes widening even as she spoke the number. "But I don't know if that's true."
Ten thousand.
Luciel whistled softly. "That's a big tribe. If it's real, we'll see for ourselves."
Mino looked up sharply. "We're going there? Really?"
Luciel met her gaze, his expression calm but warm. "Do you want to?"
She hesitated. His dark eyes reflected the fading sunlight, steady and sure, and for a moment she couldn't look away.
"I…" She bit her lip, then nodded with sudden determination. "Yes! I want to go. I want to find my big sister."
Luciel smiled. "Then that's our next destination—the Moon Lake Tribe."
For a heartbeat, Mino could only stare at him. His confident grin, his calm tone—it made her chest feel strangely tight. Her heart thudded faster and faster until she had to place a hand over it.
What's wrong with me? she thought, cheeks flushing.
Luciel's voice broke her reverie. "Don't just stand there daydreaming. We've got wood to collect."
Then, mischievously, he reached over and tugged lightly on one of her rabbit ears.
"Ah! Don't pull those!" she yelped, hopping back and stamping her foot.
Luciel laughed, his grin widening. Whatever small, fluttering emotion she'd been feeling evaporated instantly, replaced by flustered indignation.
They climbed down the tortoise's side, descending the stone steps onto the ground.
Luciel glanced around the empty camp. "So, which houses are we taking apart?"
Mino squinted, then pointed toward a cluster of huts near the edge. "Those ones. The kids who lived there used to steal my little lizard."
Luciel raised a brow. "Revenge, huh?"
"Just a little," she muttered.
He chuckled. "Alright then. We only need the big wooden beams. Move them to Black Tortoise, and he'll handle the rest."
"Got it!"
They set to work. The abandoned camp echoed with the sound of breaking wood and falling debris. With Luciel's enhanced strength, dismantling the huts was effortless. He tore through thick support beams as if they were branches, stacking five or six at a time across his shoulders.
Mino, meanwhile, focused on smaller pieces—planks, poles, and other scraps they could use for firewood. Her white hair stuck to her forehead as she worked, but her eyes gleamed with excitement.
In less than an hour, the task was done.
By the time the moon rose over the hills, a corner of their new yard on the tortoise's back was already piled high with wood.
Luciel dusted off his hands, gazing at the growing home under the starlit sky. The stone walls glowed faintly in the moonlight, solid and eternal. Beneath his feet, the rock tortoise rumbled contentedly, as if proud of their shared creation.
For the first time in a long while, Luciel felt a sense of stability—a real home, even if it moved beneath them.
And beside him, Mino smiled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's like… we're building a world of our own."
Luciel turned toward her, eyes gentle. "Maybe we are."