Ifrit crossed his arms, studying the odd wooden contraption Kael had proudly presented to him in the forest. His father's expression was half skeptical, half curious, and Kael braced himself for criticism.
"You call this… a trap?" Ifrit finally asked, raising one thick brow. His voice carried both doubt and restrained amusement, like he wasn't sure whether to scold his son or humor him.
Kael grinned, brushing dirt from his hands. "It's more than just a trap. It's a fortress pen. You'll see."
Ifrit opened his mouth to retort, but then the sound came.
A low rumble echoed from inside the contraption, followed by the heavy pounding of hooves against wood and the guttural squeals of beasts. Ifrit's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and without waiting for Kael to explain further, he climbed the wooden ramp his son had built along one side. From the top, his skeptical expression crumbled into open astonishment.
Inside the pen, six large boars thrashed and stomped, their tusks scraping against the reinforced walls. Each time one pushed against the entrance gate, the mechanism snapped shut with a loud clack, locking them in tighter. The animals were well and truly trapped, corralled by nothing more than Kael's invention.
"What in the—" Ifrit began, then stopped, shaking his head as if trying to make sense of what he saw. "Six of them? All at once?"
Kael climbed up beside him, pride glowing in his eyes. "They were lured in by resra herbs I planted in the center. The smell draws them. Once they push through the gate, it locks behind them. They can't get out unless we want them to. We can breed them, slaughter what we need, and never risk going too deep into the forest again."
Ifrit stared for a long moment. Then, suddenly, he threw back his head and let out a booming laugh that carried through the trees. He clapped Kael on the back so hard the boy nearly toppled forward.
"You did well, son! Hah! Truly well. This… this is something else!" He gestured at the contraption like it was a miracle of nature. "You've saved us hours of dangerous hunting. More than that, you've given us a way to raise meat right here on the edge of the village. You might've changed the way the whole town keeps its game."
Kael flushed with pride, his chest tightening with warmth at his father's approval. Ifrit was not a man who gave praise lightly. To earn it felt better than any feast or festival.
"You've got your mother's cleverness," Ifrit went on, still chuckling as he shook his head. "From now on, you can spend less time chasing boars in the deep woods. Help your mother with the crops, or tend to things in town. Hunting's no longer your only duty."
Kael smiled, but deep down he hesitated. He wanted to help, of course. But he also knew the truth that his father didn't: the system. His growth depended on innovation and on facing challenges directly. If he stopped pushing himself, he would stagnate. And yet… the pride shining in his father's eyes made him nod.
"I'll help her tomorrow," Kael said softly.
As they walked back toward Vance, Kael's thoughts raced. His father's words filled him with pride, but he could not ignore the subtle pulse of the system in his mind. Every creation brought him more than just convenience; it brought power. Strength. Progress.
If the system rewards me for traps and tools, he thought, what else could I create? Weapons? Machines? Things no one's ever dreamed of?
Almost as if answering his unspoken thoughts, a familiar voice stirred in his head.
Yes, host. I can understand you.
Kael froze mid-step. "…What?"
I am not merely a silent tool. I am the System of Innovation, gifted to you by the God of Creation himself. I am aware, and I exist to guide you. As you level, new functions will awaken: skills, knowledge, even access to the Innovation Shop, where blueprints and materials may be obtained.
Kael's eyes widened. "So you really… have a will of your own?"
Correct. You have only scratched the surface of what I can provide. But your level is still too low. Continue innovating. Continue building. Your growth will determine how far this path can go.
His pulse quickened with excitement. It was no longer just about meat or survival. It was about potential—about shaping the world with ideas no one else had dared to try.
Back home, the smell of tilled earth and growing crops welcomed them. Shiva was kneeling in the yard, her hands deep in the soil as she weeded rows of vegetables. Strands of her dark hair clung to her sweat-dampened cheeks, but when she saw her husband and son returning, she pushed back her hair and smiled.
"So, your father tells me we won't be short on meat anymore," she said warmly, standing to brush off her apron.
Kael rubbed his neck sheepishly. "Something like that. I'll be staying here to help you tomorrow. What do you need me to do?"
Shiva's smile widened, full of quiet pride. "If you mean it, fetch water from the river first. Then stop by Bailey's storehouse to pick up the materials your father ordered for the forge. He's running low on fittings."
Before Kael could answer, a small voice piped up from behind them.
"Can I go too?"
Christy stood by the doorway, her cheeks puffed out in an exaggerated pout. Her big eyes glistened with determination as she planted her hands on her hips.
Kael sighed, trying to keep his voice firm. "Christy, you should rest. You've been through enough these past few days."
But she stomped her foot lightly, her lower lip quivering. "Please? I don't want to be left behind. I can help carry water! I promise I won't cause trouble."
Her pout, her trembling eyes, her small hands gripping the hem of his shirt—Kael had no defenses against such weapons. He glanced at his mother for support, but Shiva only hid a smile behind her hand, clearly enjoying the sight.
Finally, Kael sighed in defeat and ruffled Christy's hair. "Fine. You can come. But you stay close to me. Understand?"
Christy's pout transformed instantly into a beaming smile. She hugged his arm tightly, bouncing on her toes. "I will! Thank you, Kael!"
Watching her, Kael felt a warmth he couldn't quite explain. She wasn't just a burden to protect. She was beginning to feel like family.
The next morning dawned with golden light spilling across the fields. Kael and Christy set off together, wooden buckets balanced on a pole across Kael's shoulders while Christy carried a smaller one in both hands.
At the river, she knelt beside him, splashing water on her cheeks before carefully filling her bucket. "See? I can do it," she declared proudly, though the weight nearly tipped her over.
Kael chuckled, steadying her. "Easy there. It's not a race."
She giggled and stuck her tongue out at him before trudging back up the path with all the determination her small frame could muster. Kael followed, his own buckets sloshing with cool river water.
They tended the crops together after that, pulling weeds and checking the soil. Christy hummed as she worked, her small fingers surprisingly nimble. Each time she looked up at him, there was a glow in her eyes—an almost unspoken gratitude that Kael could feel, though he didn't understand its depth.
When the chores were done, they walked into town to see Bailey, the storehouse manager.
The old man greeted them with a booming laugh, his belly shaking as he clapped Kael on the shoulder. "Kael!How's your father holding up?"
"As busy as ever," Kael said, smiling. "I'm here to pick up the supplies he ordered."
While Bailey fetched the order, Kael's eyes wandered over the stacks of supplies lining the walls: lumber, clay jars, coils of rope, scraps of iron, bamboo poles bundled together. His mind sparked with ideas.
Fetching water every day was tedious. But what if there was a way to bring the river to them instead?
The thought burned in his mind, growing clearer with each second. A system of pipes—bamboo or clay—that carried water straight into a storage tank near their house.
"Bailey," Kael asked slowly, his voice thoughtful, "what kind of materials would I need if I wanted to… move water? Like, build a pipe to bring it from the river straight to a tank?"
The storehouse manager paused, surprised by the question. "A pipe? Hah! That's an unusual thought. Well, bamboo could work if you hollow it out, though it won't last forever. Clay would do too, if you can shape and fire it. Metal would be strongest, but it'd cost you dearly." He peered at Kael, curious. "What're you planning, boy?"
Kael only smiled faintly, his hand brushing against the Pen of Idea tucked safely at his belt. "Just… something I want to try."
Christy tugged at his sleeve, her eyes sparkling. "Another invention?" she whispered eagerly.
Kael chuckled, lowering his voice to match hers. "Maybe."