Aric walked briskly along a dirt path that wound through fields of wheat and orchards heavy with fruit. Behind him trailed Cire, her steps hesitant and her posture stiff as though bracing for an attack at any moment. Her wide brown eyes darted nervously between Aric and the surrounding ndscape, betraying the fear simmering beneath her forced composure.

  Thorin Stonefist followed at a leisurely pace, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the ground. He observed the interaction silently, his green eyes sharp and calcuting.

  To anyone else, he might have appeared disinterested, but Thorin was amused. Watching Aric adjust his tone and demeanor depending on who he addressed.

  He's fascinating. With Seraphina, he's cautious—like walking on eggshells. With me, he opens up, revealing glimpses of intelligence and ambition. But with this girl…

  Thorin gnced at Cire, noting how she flinched every time Aric spoke, even when his words were soft or neutral.

  His behaviour around her mirrored the rumours: arrogant, domineering, unpredictable. Yet there was something off about it—a deliberate mimicry rather than genuine malice. Was this amnesia-induced adaptability? Or was it simply survival instinct?

  Earlier that day, Aric had approached Cire while she was dusting the grand hall. She froze instantly upon seeing him, her hands trembling so violently that the feather duster nearly slipped from her grasp.

  "Cire." he began, trying to mimick the same commanding yet condescending tone Vayne would use.

  "I need your assistance."

  Her voice barely rose above a whisper. "Y-yes, Master?"

  "I'm inspecting the estate's natural resources. Wind, water, sunlight—all crucial for my project. Tell me, are there any strong currents nearby? Rivers, streams, anything like that?"

  Cire hesitated, clearly torn between obeying and fleeing. Finally, she nodded shakily.

  "Th-there's a river north of the estate, Master. It flows year-round, even during droughts."

  "Good." Aric replied curtly. "Come with me. Show me where it is."

  She looked as though she wanted to protest but knew better than to refuse. As they set off together, Thorin joined them quietly, intrigued by Aric's ability to shift personas seamlessly.

  Each word, each gesture seemed carefully calibrated based on the person—an odd trait for someone supposedly suffering from memory loss. What are you pying at Vayne?

  Once they reached the riverbank, Aric turned to face both Cire and Thorin.

  Pulling out a folded blueprint from his pocket, he unfurled it dramatically, letting the sunlight illuminate the intricate diagrams etched onto the paper.

  "This," he expined, pointing to various sections of the schematic "is a generator. It harnesses kinetic energy from nature—wind, water, sunlight—and converts it into electricity."

  Cire stared bnkly, clearly overwhelmed by the technical jargon.

  Thorin, however, leaned in closer, studying the design with keen interest as he had before in the forest.

  "The principle is simple." Aric continued, switching to a more scientific expnation aimed at Thorin.

  "Water flows through turbines, spinning them rapidly. This motion generates mechanical energy, which is then converted into electrical energy via coils and magnets. For areas without consistent water flow, wind turbines or sor panels can serve as alternatives."

  "But Master…" Cire interjected hesitantly, her voice quivering.

  "You don't have powers. You've never shown any affinity for magic before."

  Aric smirked, slipping effortlessly into the persona of Vayne—the arrogant noble who thrived on secrecy and intimidation.

  "Ah, Cire. That's because I've been hiding it. Magic isn't always fshy dispys or glowing runes. Sometimes, it's subtle. Ingenious."

  Thorin raised an eyebrow, impressed by the seamless transition.

  Whether genuine or performative, he sure has the confidence for it.

  "To replicate this," Aric added, addressing Thorin directly, "you'll need materials like copper wiring, iron frames, and quartz crystals to stabilize the energy output. Quartz amplifies magic naturally, making it ideal for combining science and sorcery."

  Gotta say thanks to Thorin ter. Who knew Quartz would be useful even in a fantasy setting?

  With the generator fully manifested using Creation Magic again—though Aric refrained from mentioning its EX-tier potential—he look at it for inspection. The device hummed softly, its metallic surface gleaming under the sunlight.

  Inside, tiny gears spun rhythmically, powered by the ambient mana infused into the mechanism. A much better prototype than the one he made in the forest. The mental strain is lessen due to creating it before.

  "Now comes the next step!" Aric announced,

  "Right now, it's holding electricity—but nowhere for it to go. Remember what I told you earlier, Thorin? About applications like refrigeration, lighting, heated floors?"

  Thorin nodded, crossing his arms. "Indeed. So how do we proceed?"

  "For that," Aric said, gesturing toward the estate,

  "I'll need to bury wires underground. They'll connect the generator to specific locations, channelling electricity wherever it's needed."

  "How heavy can you carry?" Aric asked suddenly, turning to Thorin

  Thorin smirked smugly, flexing his massive arms. "Try me."

  Aric outlined his pn, putting in mind with the magic Thorin showed yesterday,

  First we bury insuted copper wires deep underground to distribute electricity across the estate. Then we use Thorin's earth magic to dig trenches efficiently and conceal the wiring. Then afterwards the other stuff, like making sure the connectivity is there and it's flowing safely. Then we can install other prototypes like refrigerators, ceiling fans, and lights—in key pces to demonstrate functionality.

  As he spoke, Cire listened intently, her expression a mixture of awe and distrust. Despite his efforts to appear harmless, she couldn't shake the memories of Vayne's cruelty.

  Every gnce, every movement reminded her of the horrors she endured under his rule.

  Inside, Cire's hatred burned fiercely, tempered only by paralyzing fear. She hated Vayne—hated everything about him. Yet here he stood, inventing devices that sounded impossible, speaking intelligently instead of barking orders.

  Was this truly the same man who had tormented me endlessly?

  He's lying. she thought bitterly, clutching her fists tightly.

  No matter how much he pretends to change, monsters don't transform overnight.

  Thorin watched the exchange closely, noting Cire's unease and Aric's calcuted behaviour. Though skeptical, he found himself drawn to Aric's vision.

  If these inventions worked as promised, they could revolutionize not just human society but dwarven kingdoms as well.

  "Alright, d." Thorin said finally, cpping his hands together.

  "Let's get started."

  Thorin stepped forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over the estate grounds. With a deep breath, he extended both hands toward the earth, his fingers spyed wide. A low rumble echoed beneath their feet as the ground quaked slightly, responding to his will.

  Then, with astonishing precision, Thorin began tearing apart the soil—not in chaotic chunks but in smooth, rectangur trenches that stretched perfectly parallel to one another.

  The process was mesmerizing. Dirt and rock parted like water under his command, revealing dark, damp earth below. Once the trenches were dug to the required depth, Thorin maniputed the dispced material back into pce, sealing the wires neatly within seconds.

  The ground looked untouched afterward, as though nothing had ever disturbed it.

  Cire watched in stunned silence, her fear momentarily overshadowed by awe.

  Every movement was deliberate, every motion controlled down to the millimeter. It wasn't brute force; it was artistry—earth manipution elevated to its purest form.

  "Alright." Thorin said gruffly, wiping his hands

  "Wires are buried. What's next?"

  As they made their way back toward the manor, whispers rippled through the air like wildfire. Servants stationed along the grand halls stopped mid-task, their eyes widening as they witnessed the destruction—and subsequent restoration—of the grounds. For most, this was confirmation of Vayne's reckless tendencies.

  After all, why else would he destroy pristine gardens without expnation?

  But the earth was put back nicely by the prince.

  Aric ignored the stares, focusing instead on the task at hand. His calm exterior masked the storm brewing inside him. Everyone hated him—every single pair of eyes gring daggers into his back reminded him of that fact.

  [Impressive work, Administrator.] Ivy chimed in suddenly, her holographic form on his screen

  [With this pace, you'll rewire the entire estate in no time. But tell me… how do you pn to renovate the house itself?]

  Aric froze mid-step, blood draining from his face as realization hit him like a freight train.

  Renovating the house...? He hadn't thought that far ahead.

  How could I have overlooked something so critical!? Wiring underground was one thing—but integrating electricity into centuries-old architecture without causing structural damage!? That was an entirely different beast!

  [I TOLD YOU TO PLAN THIS OUT FIRST!] Ivy screamed in mock outrage, throwing her arms up theatrically.

  [Do I need to hold your hand for EVERYTHING?!]

  Shut up, Ivy! I'm... working on it! He said in thoughts panickily

  To buy himself time, Aric turned to Thorin, gesturing toward a nearby wooden beam lying discarded near the construction site.

  "Can you humour me for a moment?" he asked,

  "Tear this piece of wood apart completely, then put it back together exactly as it was."

  Thorin arched an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Why?"

  "Just humour me."

  With a shrug, Thorin complied. Using his earth magic, he shattered the wood into splinters, scattering them across the ground.

  Then, with meticulous care, he reassembled the fragments, fusing them seamlessly until the beam looked indistinguishable from its original state—not a single crack or fw marred its surface.

  Aric exhaled sharply, relief flooding through him.

  If Thorin could just mend walls just as perfectly, I won't be skinned alive.

  They entered the manor through a side entrance, walking briskly down long corridors adorned with intricate tapestries and gilded frames. Forty agonizing seconds ter—though it felt like hours—they reached the kitchen, located inconveniently far from the main hall.

  The head cook, a burly man named Darius, stood supervising his staff when they arrived. His bushy eyebrows shot upward in arm as he took in the sight of Thorin and Cire fnking Aric.

  "What is the meaning of this?" Darius demanded, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

  "You can't just barge in here unannounced!"

  "I'm fixing things." Aric replied simply, ignoring the hostility radiating off everyone present.

  Turning to Thorin, he added, "Start wiring. Break apart some wall sections near the counters—we'll connect the outlets there."

  Thorin nodded, stepping forward. With practiced ease, he tore open sections of the pster walls, exposing wooden beams and brickwork beneath. Wires snaked through the gaps, secured firmly in pce before Thorin sealed the walls shut again.

  To the untrained eye, it appeared as though nothing had changed—the walls remained intact, fwless.

  Once the wiring was complete, Aric retrieved the blueprints stored securely in his mind. Channeling his Creation Magic, he envisioned a sleek refrigerator—a pure science-based model devoid of magical enhancements.

  Every part, gas, light, material were all accounted for thanks to his hundreds of hours watching pointless tube videos on the most random thing. Learning the history of fridge on a random Saturday? Now that's content.

  Moments ter, the device materialized before them, gleaming silver under the dim kitchen lights.

  "This," Aric announced proudly, plugging the fridge into the newly installed three-pin socket,

  "Is going to change everything."

  He flipped the switch, holding his breath as the machine hummed to life. A soft click signalled success. Cold air began circuting inside the freezer compartment almost immediately.

  Grabbing a sb of raw meat from the counter, Aric spped it onto one of the shelves.

  "By tomorrow morning," he decred confidently, "this won't spoil. Guaranteed."

  Darius stared at the contraption, his expression oscilting between disbelief and fascination. Before anyone could respond, Aric pressed onward, instructing Thorin to create additional outlets around the kitchen.

  Four more sockets appeared within minutes, each wired meticulously according to Aric's instructions.

  Next came the blender. Another mental blueprint of the blender manifested into reality, also thanks to him watching pointless tube videos. Plugging it in, Aric demonstrated its functionality by blending a mixture of fruits and ice.

  The motor whirred smoothly, pulverizing the ingredients into a frothy liquid within seconds.

  The room fell silent, besides the faint hum of machinery echoing off the stone walls. Maids clutched their aprons nervously, while cooks exchanged uneasy gnces.

  Cire stood frozen, torn between terror and reluctant admiration.

  Only Thorin seemed genuinely impressed, nodding approvingly as he studied the devices.

  "Oh, come on!" Aric pleaded, sensing the collective skepticism.

  "Trust me. Just this once."

  No one responded. Hatred simmered beneath the surface, too deeply ingrained to fade overnight.

  Trust you? I rather trust a thief with my purse.

  "The meat won't spoil and this blender will help with your work. Believe it." Aric announced.