After a day of rest, Lyssandra awoke to the morning routine. She called the female goblins to her, spreading her arms wide as she released her essence, her sperm spilling into their waiting mouths.
She trained them, refining their abilities, shaping them into the powerful beings they were now—twenty hobgoblins, and five swift goblins, all transformed from the remnants of the last battle.
She left them to tend the farm, satisfied that her order was being maintained.
As she surveyed the goblin camp, she looked beyond the original hut of the former chief, the structure now her own home.
Around her, other goblins were either sleeping on the cold ground or constructing makeshift tents from leather scraps.
She could see the need for something better, something more than what they had now.
They were not mere savage monsters anymore. They were her army, her underlings.
And that required more than just strength. Order and improvement were needed.
She decided it was building time. She opened her system interface and switched to the crafting feature, determined to improve their living conditions.
Last time, she had focused on simple farming tools, but even attempting to craft the repeating crossbow had proved futile—the device was deeply entwined with magic, something she had yet to comprehend.
Unable to waste precious LP on expensive materials from the system shop, she had shifted her attention to more manageable tasks.
For a while, she had been focused on producing wooden bolts, discarding arrows due to the unavailability of feathers.
Now, she was shifting her efforts toward construction, her next target: a log house.
From the logs she had purchased, Lyssandra carefully selected a flat and even stone base for the foundation.
The area had to be large enough to accommodate multiple log houses.
She ordered all the goblins to watch as she worked, since their intelligence had increased with their evolution.
First, she prepared the logs using the tools she had made, stripping away the bark.
Since the logs were already dry, she didn't have to wait for them to dry naturally.
She cut the corners into square notches, ensuring the logs would fit tightly together.
Next, she laid the sill logs down as the foundation then filling the gaps between the logs with mud gathered from a nearby stream, where water slimes had once lived.
"Why do you need to fill the gaps?" one of the hobgoblins asked curiously.
"Interesting," Lyssandra thought. "This is the first time they've inquired about something like this."
She cleared her throat and continued as if teaching a class.
"Filling the gaps between the logs, this process is called chinking. And it serves a few important purposes."
Lyssandra approached the stack of logs and placed her hand over one of the gaps.
"Go ahead and touch the gaps between them," she instructed.
Some of the hobgoblins stepped forward and obeyed, placing their hands on the spaces.
"What do you feel?" Lyssandra asked, watching them intently.
"It's… cool. And windy?" one replied hesitantly.
"Precisely," Lyssandra said, pleased. "Now, tell me—do you want to have wind blowing through your house while you sleep? Of course not. The same applies to rain, though we're safely inside a dungeon where raining isn't a concern."
The goblins nodded in understanding, their eyes fixed on her.
"Basically, the mud serves as insulation," she concluded, smiling. "Does everyone understand?"
The sound of many "Yesses" filled the air.
Lyssandra resumed her construction lesson, continuing with the work at hand.
After filling the gaps between the logs, she chopped several pieces of timber into halves and quarters to use as window and door frames.
"But if you do this, won't you weaken the structure?" one of the swift goblins questioned, voice clear.
"You've asked exactly the right question." Lyssandra turned, her tone sharp but educational.
"To rectify this, we must install two vertical supports. Or frames. We'll place them on the sides of the opening. This ensures the structure remains intact," she explained, cutting small logs into square frames.
Then, she fitted them neatly between the gaps on the wall to support the openings for windows and doors.
Lyssandra pressed the frame into place, giving it a firm shove until it clicked securely within the grooves.
"With supports in place, the opening won't compromise the wall," she stated, her voice echoing slightly in the lair. "Without them, the structure shifts, cracks, and eventually collapses under its own weight."
The goblins nodded in unison, their small hands moving with newfound purpose as they replicated the process on their assigned sections.
"Now, we complete the walls."
Log by log, the timber structure rose, the rhythm of their labor creating a steady, hypnotic cadence.
Once the walls reached the desired height, Lyssandra raised a hand to silence them.
"Roof."
She dragged the thicker, stouter logs across the top, balancing them carefully to ensure an even distribution of weight.
"Support beams," she commanded. "Space them too far apart, and the roof sags. Make them too thin, and they snap under pressure."
She adjusted one beam slightly to the left, then the right, until she was satisfied with the alignment.
"Closer. Yes, there."
She then directed the goblins to lay rough-hewn planks over the beams, fitting each piece tightly against its neighbor.
"No gaps," she barked, her eyes scanning the surface for even the slightest breach. "No wind, no moisture."
The goblins worked in a focused silence until the final plank sealed the peak.
Lyssandra stepped back, wiping sweat from her brow to inspect her creation.
"Check it."
A few of the stronger hobgoblins pushed against the walls, testing for any give or wobble, while others struck the beams with the flats of their weapons.
The structure held firm, solid and immovable.
She nodded, a flicker of approval crossing her face. "Good. It stands"
Her gaze swept over the finished log house, a shelter that stood defiant against the damp dungeon air.
A brief silence fell over the group, broken only by the settling of wood and the distant drip of water from the ceiling.
Then, a quiet sense of satisfaction spread through the gathered goblins, their eyes gleaming with pride in their new home.
Lyssandra turned away, her mind already turning to the next challenge.
"You will build the next one without me."
She summoned a pile of logs from her inventory, letting them clutter to the ground with a heavy thud before the goblins could even blink.
"There."
They stared, eyes wide, at the sudden bounty.
A few hundred steps away stood a hut, simple but sturdy.
Beside it, Morgana crouched, her posture rigid, her face downcast.
The sight of the spider woman brought a flicker of irritation to Lyssandra's features.
"Yes, master?"
Morgana's voice was softer than usual, lacking its usual biting tone.
"I have something I need you to do."
"Everything for you, master."
Morgana lifted her head, her eyes tracing the bulge of Lyssandra's stomach with undeniable hunger.
"Was this about our children?"
Her tone softened into something more reverent, almost pleading.
"Yes. Kind of… I need you to take them out."
Lyssandra's voice held a hint of command.
"Our children would be stronger if they hatched inside your body, but if it's your command, I'll obey."
Morgana's head drooped again, submitting fully.
A familiar appendage slithered from her rear, an elongated red ovipositor that curled in the air before orienting itself toward Lyssandra's lower abdomen.
She moved behind Lyssandra, pressing her front against the back of her, her breasts flattened against Lyssandra's buttocks.
With calculated ease, the ovipositor began to penetrate Lyssandra's slit.
"Oh, fuck… I could never get used to this feeling…"