I became the slime toy of the evil dragon girl?

Chapter 123 Fermentation

The squad leader nodded and picked up a specially made wide-bladed trowel.

This was hastily made by the goblins at Ian's request yesterday. It has a wooden handle and an iron head, and it's two sizes larger than the ones used by human bricklayers.

He squatted down, scooped a lump of mortar from the wooden bucket with a trowel, and spread it on the edge of the platform, his movements rough but his force even. Then he grabbed a cement brick, pressed it onto the mortar, and adjusted its position slightly.

Snapped.

The bricks stuck together immediately.

The squad leader took a look and thought it was pretty good, very simple.

He picked up a second piece, applied mortar, and pressed it on.

His movements became more and more skillful.

Although their methods may seem crude, minotaurs always carry an inexplicable ferocity when doing delicate work, but their efficiency is frighteningly high.

In less than ten minutes, the first layer of bricks was laid, forming a straight line.

The boss stared in disbelief through the binoculars.

"So fast?" he muttered to himself. "Those gray bricks—they just stuck on and didn't move? Is that magic?"

The owner looked at his wooden bar, stomped his foot, and almost chopped a hole in the roof.

"Tsk, what a stark contrast."

He remembered what the old lame man had said about the "gray magic material," and realized that this was what he meant.

At the construction site, the bricklaying work is proceeding at full speed.

The wall is growing upwards at a rate visible to the naked eye.

One floor, two floors, three floors —

The boss stared wide-eyed.

He had seen human stonemasons build walls; it was delicate work, requiring plumb lines for alignment, levels for smoothness, and careful adjustment of each stone. How could anyone just grab a brick, smear some mortar on it, and shove it up like this?

And those gray bricks—they're all exactly the same size. How much work must have gone into cutting and polishing them?

"Monsters—" the boss muttered, "They're a bunch of monsters."

But the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn up.

The stronger the monster, the more stable his business!

On this side of the construction site, the wall has already been built up to chest height.

Okay.

Although the Minotaur's technique was crude, the cement mortar had a high tolerance for error, and even a slight deviation could be corrected later.

"Squad leader," Ian said, "those bricks in the middle are protruding a bit; make the next layer taper them inwards a little."

"Oh!" The squad leader looked down, stretched out his big hand and patted the wall. He actually managed to push the protruding bricks back half an inch.

Ian: "——..——"

Okay, physical correction is still correction.

The wall continued to grow upwards.

By the time the sun reached its zenith, the wall was already as tall as a person. The gray wall stood straight up at the edge of the platform, creating a stark contrast with the surrounding pristine landscape.

Without the natural texture of stone, or the growth rings and knots of wood, it is just a smooth and uniform gray surface, with a strong artificial feel.

Several minotaurs stood by the wall, looking up at the fruits of their labor, with simple, honest smiles on their faces.

"Mother Earth!" a squad leader exclaimed excitedly, "This wall—it looks incredibly sturdy!"

"It's not over yet," Ian said. "We'll finish the rest this afternoon, and then do the finishing touches."

He paused, then added, "Also, I need to bury something inside the wall."

"Bury something?" The squad leader scratched his head. "Bury what? Treasure?"

Ian explained simply, "Magic, magic that makes this wall even cooler."

The minotaurs looked at each other in bewilderment.

Ian offered no further explanation, his tentacles probing into the mortar at the base of the wall, where it was not yet fully dry.

[Magic Vein Weaving] is activated, but this time the weaving is extremely delicate, like embroidering on the tip of a needle.

What he needed to do was to bury several veins with the [Light Spell] inside the wall.

These veins don't need to be many, but the colors, of course, should be a bit flashy.

"Give this other world a bit of cyberpunk art style shock?" Ian muttered to himself with a wicked sense of humor.

Golden magic threads extend from the tips of the tentacles, seep into the cement mortar, and spread upwards along the gaps between the bricks, forming a simple grid structure inside the wall.

Each node of the network is decorated with [Light] runes, which are connected to each other to form a complete luminous network.

Half an hour later, Ian retracted his tentacles.

"Alright," he said. "Keep building the wall and finish the rest."

"Yes!" the minotaurs replied and continued working.

The wall was built higher and higher.

In the afternoon, several uninvited guests arrived from the direction of Honeydew Town.

It wasn't Old Lame and his gang; those three were so terrified by what happened yesterday that they didn't dare come back today.

Several other down-on-their-luck adventurers, also stranded in the town, couldn't resist their curiosity after hearing the rumors in the tavern and sneaked over to take a look.

They were more cautious than the old lame man, hiding behind a more distant earthen slope, only daring to peek out half their heads.

Then they saw the gray wall that was almost finished.

"My God—" a gaunt thief gasped, "What is that?"

"The wall," a soldier beside him muttered. "The gray wall."

"Nonsense! I mean, why is that wall that color? And—why does it look so smooth? Like it was carved from a single piece of stone?"

“It’s not stone.” The third adventurer, an older mage apprentice, squinted. “It doesn’t have the texture of stone. And—look at those minotaurs, they’re still building on top of it. How could they build on a single piece of stone?”

The three people fell silent.

They looked at the construction site in the distance, watching the minotaurs skillfully apply mortar and lay bricks, and watching the gray wall reflect a uniform matte finish in the sunlight.

The soldier licked his chapped lips: "If—if we could get our hands on a piece of that material, we could take it to the alchemist and have him see it—"

"Do you want to die?" The thief glared at him. "Old Limp and the others almost got killed by that slime yesterday, have you forgotten?"

The soldier fell silent.

The three people watched for a while longer, then quietly left.

"What a pity, I didn't see any baby dragons—"

They were too weak, so weak that they didn't even have the courage to get close.

But they will take everything they see back, embellish it, and pass it on to more people.

It's not important that you didn't see the dragon.

As long as you've been there, that's enough. What you see is entirely up to your own words.

The news will spread like a plague, and those who have successfully navigated this perilous situation will be incredibly proud!

As evening approached, the sun began to set in the west.

The last cement brick was pressed onto the top of the wall by the squad leader, who then smoothed out the mortar.

The 15-meter-long, 2.5-meter-high gray wall is now officially completed.

The minotaurs stepped back, looking at the fruits of their labor, their faces beaming with satisfaction. Although the wall looked drab and plain, lacking any splendor or imposing grandeur, they had built it themselves, from scratch, in just one day.

"Mother Earth!" the squad leader shouted, turning around. "The wall is finished!"

Ian hopped to the wall, his tentacles sticking to the surface, and [Analysis] was fully activated.

Overall, it is satisfactory.

"Very good," Ian said. "That's enough for today. Pack up the tools and prepare dinner."

The minotaurs cheered and began cleaning up the mess.

Ian remained by the wall, his tentacles gently stroking the rough cement surface. It was cold, hard, and had the unique texture of an industrial product.

This is the effect he wanted.

A wall constructed quickly, drastically different from traditional architecture. It is a manifesto, a display, a lure in itself.

How would humans understand it?

Is it a magical creation? A new technology? Or some unknown magical ability?

Regardless of the interpretation, it will spark more curiosity, more speculation, and more attention.

And that's exactly what Ian needs.

The night is getting darker.

The minotaurs lit a campfire at the construction site, roasting the dry rations they carried with them. Ian lay prone against the wall, monitoring his surroundings through [Spatial Awareness].

The tavern lights were still on in the direction of Honeydew Town. The owner, Si Ping, was still on the roof, looking this way through binoculars.

From the direction of the cellar — Lilith has just sent back a new message.

"The magical fluctuations inside the cellar have reached a new peak; three people are performing some kind of ritual. Should I infiltrate?"

Ian remained silent for a few seconds.

"Wait a little longer," he replied. "We don't know what their plans are. Besides, if there are any problems, humans should take responsibility first, and we shouldn't alert them."

"clear."