The courtyard was peaceful, except for the sound of a watering can.
*Drip. Drip. Drip.*
"Drink, Steve," Luna whispered, weeping softly. "Drink the tears of my sorrow and this bucket of water."
She was watering the rosebush that used to be a guard named Steve. A single red rose had bloomed on his helmet-shaped branch.
"He looks... healthy," Taylor noted, trying to ignore the existential horror.
**[System Message: Look at that. The bush has better posture than you. Maybe you should let the villain turn you into a fern. Less talking, more photosynthesis.]**
"I am an engineer, not a botanist!" Taylor snapped at the blue screen. "And I have a plan. Valerius wants beauty? I'll give him beauty. Structural beauty."
She slammed a blueprint onto the table. It was a drawing of a **Roman Bathhouse** with mosaic tiling and white marble pillars.
[System Message: Analyzing Art Skill... Error. Is this a bathhouse or a potato with windows? Your perspective is nonexistent. Da Vinci is rolling in his grave.]
"It's a schematic!" Taylor shouted. "It doesn't need soul! It needs load-bearing walls!"
***
[The Clay Pit Incident]
To build the "White Concrete" needed to appease Valerius, Taylor needed specific clay. White kaolin clay.
They found a deposit near the riverbank. It was wet, slippery, and messy.
"Ren," Taylor pointed. "Dig there."
"Understood," Ren said. He swung his shovel with the force of a hurricane.
*SPLAT.*
A massive glob of wet, white clay flew through the air.
It hit Taylor directly in the chest.
"Oof!" Taylor gasped, knocked backward into the mud pit.
She tried to stand up, but the clay was like grease. She slipped again, landing on her hands and knees in the muck. She was instantly coated in white, sticky sludge. It soaked through her shirt, making it heavy and clinging to her skin like a second layer.
"My Angel is a sculpture!" **Ria** screamed, diving into the pit. "She is a masterpiece of the earth! Let me mold you!"
Ria landed on top of Taylor. The chef began trying to "wipe" the clay off, which only smeared it further, pushing the wet mud into places mud shouldn't go.
"Ria! Get off!" Taylor yelled, flailing in the slime.
"You feel like dough!" Ria moaned, kneading Taylor's clay-covered thigh. "So soft! I must bake you!"
"Get away from her," **Violet** hissed.
Violet didn't dive. she walked into the mud calmly. She knelt down beside the pile of struggling women. She reached out and grabbed a handful of white clay.
She smeared it slowly down Taylor's neck.
"It dries hard," Violet whispered, her eyes dark. "Like a shell. I want to keep you inside."
"Why is everyone touching me?!" Taylor shrieked. "I just want building materials!"
**[System Message: Achievement Unlocked: 'Mud Wrestling Harem'. Dignity: -500. Viewership Rating: +1000. You look like a glazed donut dropped in a puddle.]**
"Stop roasting me and give me the chemical formula for quick-drying cement!" Taylor screamed at the air.
***
[The Villain's Garden]
Meanwhile, in a temporary marquee set up on the hill overlooking Oakhaven.
**Viscount Valerius** sat on a throne made of living vines. He was drinking tea from a cup that looked suspiciously like a hollowed-out skull (but a *pretty* skull).
He was watching the mud pit through a telescope.
"Disgusting," Valerius sneered. "They wallow in the dirt like pigs."
He turned to his side. Standing there was a figure wrapped in bandages—a "Doll" he had created.
"Beauty is pain, my dear," Valerius whispered to the Doll. "I remember... when I was ugly. When they threw rocks at me."
His hand trembled. For a second, the flamboyant mask slipped, revealing a glimpse of a scarred, tragic eye.
"But I fixed them," Valerius murmured, his voice cracking. "I fixed them all. I made them *bloom*."
He snapped his fingers. The Doll convulsed and grew a bouquet of lilies from its shoulder.
"Fifty days," Valerius said, regaining his composure. "If she brings me mud, I will plant her in the thorn garden. Right next to her mother's grave."
He paused.
"Oh, wait. I haven't visited that grave yet. Perhaps I should... fertilize it."
***
[The Clean Up]
Back at the river, the clay harvest was over.
Taylor stood shivering on the bank. She was white from head to toe. The clay was starting to dry, tightening her skin and stiffening her clothes into a hard cast.
"I can't move," Taylor stated. "My shirt has become a ceramic plate."
"Allow me to crack it!" Ren offered, drawing his sword.
"NO SWORDS!" Taylor panicked. "Just... carry me to the hot spring. And do not drop me."
Ren nodded. He picked Taylor up—princess style.
"I will not fail," Ren said.
He turned left.
"Ren, the castle is right," Taylor sighed, encased in her mud shell.
"I am taking the scenic route," Ren lied, walking toward a cliff.
"Turn around or you're fired!"
As they walked away, **Violet** stayed behind for a moment. She looked at the spot where Valerius's marquee stood on the hill.
She licked some residual clay off her finger.
"He threatened Mother's grave," Violet whispered.
The air around her grew cold. The grass beneath her feet withered and died, turning black.
"I'm going to prune him."