The level of fine control required was immense, draining his concentration, making sweat bead on his forehead despite the coolness of his Void power. He wasn't just shaping metal; he was engineering a functional machine with moving parts, relying on recalled principles of fluid dynamics and mechanical engineering, translating them into commands his bloodline power could execute. The steel gleamed under his control – not iron, but true, refined steel, harder, more resilient, humming faintly with the contained energy of its creation. It looked less like blacksmithing and more like the work of a celestial watchmaker.
Jasmin stared, breathless, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. She felt small, insignificant, witnessing this casual display of godlike power. It was mesmerizing, terrifying, beautiful. Is this what it means to be truly noble? she wondered fleetingly. To command the very elements, to shape metal like water? He wasn't just the Young Lord; he felt like something ancient, something elemental, disguised in human form.
Once the intricate steel pump mechanism – cylinder, piston, valves, spring, nozzle – hovered complete and perfect in the air before him like a complex silver dragonfly, Lloyd turned his attention to the oak beam. No axe, no saw, no chisel needed. He laid his hands flat against the rough wood, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the grain, the density. He focused his Void power differently now, infusing it not with heat, but with controlled kinetic force, a precise application of pressure and vibration, guided by his shaping will.
The wood groaned softly, not in protest, but in yielding surrender. Fibers separated cleanly, dust motes rising as the interior of the beam began to hollow out under his invisible, insistent touch. He wasn't cutting; he was persuading the wood to reshape itself according to his mental blueprint. A smooth, cylindrical reservoir formed within the solid oak, perfectly sized to hold a generous quantity of the soft soap. He shaped the exterior simultaneously, the rough grain smoothing, flowing into elegant curves, the neck tapering precisely to match the dimensions of the steel cylinder he had created. With a final surge of focused will, he formed fine, precise threads within the wooden neck and, mirroring them, on the base of the steel pump assembly, ensuring a tight, secure, waterproof seal when joined.
The entire process, steel and wood combined, took perhaps fifteen minutes of intense, silent concentration. The only sounds were the faint hum of Void power, the soft sighing of yielding wood, and Jasmin's occasional, involuntary gasp of wonder.
Finally, it was done. Lloyd stepped back, letting the shaping power recede. He carefully took the hovering steel pump mechanism and the newly formed oak body. With precise movements, he screwed the steel assembly smoothly into the threaded wooden neck. The fit was perfect.
The resulting object rested heavy and substantial in his hands. It was breathtaking. Functional, undeniably, but also a piece of minimalist art. The warm, rich grain of the smoothly polished oak provided an organic counterpoint to the cool, precise, machine-like gleam of the steel pump and nozzle. It felt balanced, ergonomic. It looked… priceless. Luxurious. Like something one might find on the vanity of an empress, not cobbled together in a disused smokehouse.
Lloyd held the finished pumping bottle aloft, turning it slowly in the dim, dusty light, admiring the fusion of Earth-inspired engineering and Riverio-based power. A surge of pure, unadulterated satisfaction, fiercer even than the successful soap test, coursed through him. This. This was the bridge between his lives. This tangible object, impossible without both his past knowledge and his present power.
He turned to Jasmin, whose face was a mask of stunned reverence. She was staring at the bottle as if it were actively emitting divine light. "Well, Jasmin?" he asked, a triumphant grin lighting up his face, momentarily banishing the shadows and the fatigue. "What do you think? A suitable vessel for our revolutionary product? Fit for purpose? Fit for profit?"
Jasmin could only nod vigorously at first, seemingly incapable of speech. She swallowed hard, finding her voice, which emerged as a trembling whisper. "My lord… it… it is magnificent. Beyond magnificent." She shook her head, eyes still fixed on the bottle. "I have seen the King's treasures on festival days… goblets, crowns… none possessed such… such clean beauty. Such purpose." She looked up at him, her awe palpable. "It's not just a bottle. It's… it's a promise. A promise of what's inside."
"Exactly!" Lloyd confirmed, the grin widening. "Form and function! Luxury isn't just about the product; it's about the entire experience! And soon," he declared, gesturing emphatically with the bottle, "every noble household in this Duchy, maybe every wealthy merchant from here to the Azure Strait, will desperately want one. They just don't know it yet."