Volume 5 Chapter 17 The Withered Fountain and the Glass Vessel
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
One morning, the peace of the village square was shattered by a jarring clamor.
”What in the hell is that racket?”
I looked down from my bedroom window to see a mass of elves scurrying back and forth like a trail of ants, all of them clutching water jars.
Liana, my personal attendant, who had been helping me change, lowered her brows in distress.
”I offer my deepest apologies, Spirit King,” she said, her voice strained with Victorian deference. “It appears a crack has formed in the central water tank, and a serious leak has developed.”
”A leak?”
”Yes, sir. That water tank is the very heart of the village’s water supply, distributing spring water to every household, but it has grown quite old. The craftsmen are attempting repairs, but they are being overwhelmed by the water pressure.”
I see.
I hurried toward the site, barely finishing buttoning my shirt. If the village’s water infrastructure failed, it would directly affect my own comfort—my baths, my flush toilet. As a king, and as a modern man, I could not ignore the collapse of such infrastructure.
The reservoir facility in one corner of the square was saturated with the smell of mud and rust. It was a massive stone tank, roughly ten meters in diameter. Lightning-bolt cracks ran down its side, and precious clean water gushed from them like arterial spray.
The overflowing water had eroded the earth around it, turning the square into a muddy brown quagmire.
Squish, suck, slop…
Every time the workers moved, the viscous mud clung to their boots, producing unpleasant sucking noises.
”It’s no good!” Gael shouted, his voice rough and clipped like a street brawler’s. “The pressure is too high! It’s washing away the plaster before it can set!”
”Get more clay!” another worker yelled back. “Bring me clay with higher viscosity!”
”Magic team,” Gael barked, “hold it with a barrier! It’s going to burst!”
Covered head-to-toe in mud, Gael barked orders like a captain trying to keep a sinking ship afloat.
But the situation was hopeless.
They were using primitive lime and stone. Such patched-up repairs had no chance of withstanding the force generated by several tons of water pressure.
The leaking water soaked the workers’ lower bodies. Their heavy, wet clothes sapped their strength, while the cold stole their body heat.
It was a textbook war of attrition.
Watching this, I sighed at the inefficiency.
They were repeating temporary fixes while ignoring the underlying structural flaw. At this rate, the entire foundation would eventually fail.
”…Spirit King!”
Noticing my arrival, Erland hurried over, not even bothering to avoid the mud. Her expression was etched with fatigue and the desperation of a leader.
”Forgive the unsightly scene,” she said, her tone a mixture of formal composure and distress. “We have everyone out here working on the restoration, but it is expected to take several weeks to complete the repairs. In the meantime, we will have to restrict water access to each household…”
”Several weeks?”
I scoffed.
Were they really going to waste that many resources just to repair a single water basin?
I knew this world’s technological level was low, but I did not realize it was this bad.
”Move aside,” I commanded. “I’ll do it.”
”Eh…?” Erland stammered, bewildered. “But this is the stonemasons’ jurisdiction… and with magic…”
”If you understand the logic, magic and civil engineering are the same thing.”
I brushed past Erland and stepped into the mire.
The surrounding elves cleared a path, looking at me with eyes full of awe.
Standing before the crumbling tank, I analyzed its structure.
I extended a hand and let a small amount of mana flow outward, scanning the internal stresses.
…Just as I thought.
They had simply stacked stones together and filled the gaps with plaster.
No wonder it had cracked from age and seismic activity.
Worse, it was square.
For a pressure vessel, corners are where stress concentrates most heavily. That is why gas tanks and submarines are round.
A square water tank was practically a crime against physics.
”Gael, was it?” I called.
”Pull all your workers back. They’re in the way.”
”Y-yes, sir!” Gael replied in a crisp military cadence. “You heard the Spirit King! Everyone, fall back!”
Once I confirmed the area was clear, I raised my right hand.
In my mind, I visualized a perfect, seamless, single-cast structure.
First, demolition.
”Earth Control.”
With a flick of my fingertips, the ground writhed like a giant jaw and swallowed the crumbling masonry whole.
A heavy rumble shook the earth as the waste material was dragged deep underground.
Only the foundation remained, compressed by mana until it was as hard as steel.
That would be more than sufficient to prevent subsidence.
A collective gasp rose from the crowd, nearly a scream, but I ignored it and moved on.
”Next, creation. The soil composition around here will suffice.”
In my mind, I defined the shape I wanted.
A smooth, seamless cylinder.
If I compressed the soil and stone down to the molecular level and bound them together, they would become a single monolithic structure.
I poured the vast reserves of mana within me into the ground like a high-pressure pump.
Precise material engineering?
I knew nothing about it.
Fortunately, brute force was an option.
All I had to do was force the particles together and use mana as an adhesive.
”Create Rock… Shape Modeling.”
Gooo-go-go-go…!
A low-frequency hum vibrated through the pit of my stomach.
Then a massive mass of stone rose from the earth.
This was not rough masonry.
It was a seamless cylinder, formed exactly as I envisioned it.
No joints.
No seams.
No physical weak points.
But bare stone was not enough.
Its porosity would allow water to seep into it and create a breeding ground for bacteria.
It needed a finish.
I dug through my memories of high school science experiments.
The primary component of sand and clay was silicon dioxide. Heated sufficiently, it became glass-like and repelled water.
I did not need a kiln.
My mana was the kiln.
”Heat Treatment… Accelerate to the glass transition point!”
Flash!
The entire tank glowed white-hot.
The surrounding air dried instantly.
The muddy puddles evaporated in moments, and a brutal heat wave singed the workers’ hair.
The stone surface softened like taffy.
I did not know the exact transition temperature.
That hardly mattered.
I only needed to keep feeding it energy until the phase change occurred.
Mana was a remarkably flexible energy source.
”…Surface hardening. Vitrification.”
I imposed the image of a perfectly smooth ceramic glaze onto the surface.
Once coated with a glassy layer, the tank would resist leaks and suppress algae growth.
Maintenance-free.
Finished.
Finally, I drew the heat away with a rapid-cooling spell.
Sssssssss…!
A massive cloud of white steam billowed outward.
When it finally cleared, a gigantic black tank stood before us, smooth as obsidian beneath the morning sun.
Less than five minutes had passed.
”…Alright. That should do it.”
I brushed off my hands and turned around.
The elves stood frozen like statues.
Their mouths hung open.
Even Erland was trembling, her eyes wide with disbelief.
”Wh-wha…”
”What? Are you dissatisfied?” I asked. “I connected the channels too. Go ahead and run a flow test.”
Jolted back to reality, Gael hurried to open the water-source valve.
Clear, cold water poured into the new tank.
There were no leaks.
Not a single drop seeped through.
The water sliding along the smooth, glass-like interior looked clearer than before.
”…It’s a miracle,” someone whispered, as if in prayer.
”It’s not just the power of destruction…” another elf marveled. “Does the Spirit King also possess the power of a god, able to manipulate the earth and create all things…!”
”Ah, how beautiful…! This is the perfect vessel we have been searching for…!”
In the next moment, everyone in the square knelt in perfect unison.1
This was not submission born from fear.
It was worship.
Pure gratitude directed toward an absolute being who brought overwhelming blessings.
”Long live the Spirit King! Glory to our King!”
”Thank you… Oh, thank you…!”
The mud-caked workers and the women who had come to draw water pressed their foreheads into the dirt.
Some even wept.
I was stunned, but I could not say it felt bad.
To me, it was just a bit of DIY.
To them, given their level of civilization, it must have looked like a divine miracle.
Well, being thanked was not so bad.
If this guaranteed a reliable water supply, it was a small price to pay.
”No need for thanks,” I said. “I simply found it unpleasant that my yard was a mess. Gael.”
”Y-yes, sir!” the craftsman shouted, looking up with renewed intensity.
”I leave the management to you. Clean it regularly and keep it sanitary. Understand?”
”Understood! I will stake my life to protect this holy tank created by the King!”
What an exaggerated fellow.
Still, that loyalty could be useful.
With this incident, the way the village elves viewed me changed completely.
Until now, most had regarded me as an object of terror possessing overwhelming power—or as a valuable male for breeding.
Now, however, it seemed I had been elevated to the status of a living god, one who maintained the infrastructure of their lives and brought them prosperity.
—
Summary:
The protagonist awakens to a water infrastructure crisis in his village. Observing the elves’ inefficient manual attempts at repair, he intervenes using his modern knowledge and magical control. He effortlessly replaces the crumbling stone basin with a seamless, vitrified glass-like tank, triggering an overwhelming show of religious devotion and gratitude from the villagers.
—
Trivia:
The reservoir is ten meters in diameter.
The tank’s square shape was identified by the protagonist as a structural flaw causing stress concentration.
The protagonist views his engineering intervention as a simple DIY project rather than a divine act.
The protagonist realizes his social standing has shifted from a feared entity to a provider/deity figure.
—
Translation Notes:
Notes:
• Liana – An elf woman with impeccably braided, shoulder-length silver hair who serves as the protagonist’s personal attendant and maid, managing his household and daily attire. While she maintains a cool, composed demeanor around others, she secretly hides a deep olfactory obsession.
• Spirit King – The male protagonist who acts as the sole source of mana for the Elf village ritual. He possesses limitless stamina and approaches his duties with detached efficiency.
• Gael – An honest, mud-covered farmer and stonemason foreman who serves as a village field supervisor. He leads repair work on the water tank with a stern, military-like demeanor, managing his relationships with others through disciplined authority.
• Erland – A 320-year-old elven village Elder, master of ancient magic, and “living grimoire” with bottomless knowledge and sharp features, she is a weary leader wearing silver-rimmed glasses who manages village infrastructure. Holding high status among her people, she shifts from analytical detachment to deep, pious devotion toward the new Spirit King, maintaining a respectful relationship with the deity.
• Man – A roughneck wearing a hat who participated in a group assault. He suffers the loss of his right arm and later his left arm during an experiment by the protagonist before being stored.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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