When Emilia returned from the field after spending an entire day preparing a plot to cultivate plants from the Gloamspire Thicket, she suddenly stopped in her tracks. Staring at the additional building next to her cabin.
Right beside her cabin stood a new hut, small, sturdy, and smelling faintly like pine resin. It wasn't there this morning. The villagers of Tharrosk had clearly been busy.
"What in the world…?" Emilia murmured, walking closer.
A few villagers were waiting nearby, grinning proudly despite the mud and sweat clinging to their faces. "Pathbreaker!" one of them called. "We finished just before you came! Your, uh… 'private house,' as you asked!"
Emilia blinked, confused at first, until she stepped closer and peeked inside. It is, without a doubt, a toilet.
This morning, Emilia had sat down with the head villager, unrolling a rough sketch she'd made on the soil. With a piece of twig in her hand, she'd explained what she wanted to build, not just a new field for cultivation, but a proper bathhouse, and something the villagers had never seen before: a toilet.
She had drawn the plans from memory, recalling the stories and pictures she had once read back in high school, tales of medieval castles and their strange, simple bathrooms called garderobes.
It wasn't like the toilets back home, with flushing water and clean tiles. No, the garderobe is a humble wooden bench, dark and polished, built over a pit that carried waste down below. In the center is usually a neat circular hole, just big enough to do one's business, and nothing more. Crude, but effective.
Now, it stood sturdily beside her cabin, a simple structure of rough timber, its slanted roof designed to keep off the rain. As she pushed open the door of the small hut the villagers had built, Emilia froze in astonishment.
When she stepped inside, the faint scent of herbs greeted her. The room is narrow but tidy, and in the center is the very thing she had only imagined in her head: a wide wooden seat, carefully carved and fitted from smooth planks, resting securely above a deep pit dug into the earth.
The pit itself had been lined with hay and crushed herbs, a few of which Emilia recognized from the female elder's collections, the ones that had a fresh and crisp scent. Their mingled scent gave the space a clean, earthy freshness; its purpose is to mask the scent of the human's waste, her waste.
Beside the wooden seat sat a large bucket filled with clear water, and next to it lay a neat stack of freshly cut silk fern, soft, absorbent, and green as spring leaves. Someone had even gone so far as to install a small hook on the wall for her clothes and a simple curtain made of woven cloth across the doorway, offering privacy.
Emilia stared, her mouth slightly open. The villagers had followed her sketch exactly. "You… actually made it," she whispered, half in disbelief, half in awe.
The eldest of the workers, a gray-haired man with hands rough from years of labor, smiled proudly when he saw Emilia's astonishment. "You said you didn't like using a bucket," he said, his voice filled with quiet satisfaction. "So we thought this should be the first thing to build. A priority."
For a moment, Emilia just stood there, one hand pressed over her mouth, a laugh bubbling up even as her eyes shimmered with emotion. "Oh, thank you for this," she said, her voice soft but full of feeling. "Truly… thank you. Tomorrow, we'll make more of these for the rest of the villagers."
The old man's eyes warmed with pride. He bowed his head slightly. "We hope you can stay here more comfortably, Pathbreaker," he said. The title rolled off his tongue with reverence, not fear, as if Emilia were something more than just a visitor now but a part of their home.
Emilia smiled back at him; the weight of exhaustion in her heart was lightened by genuine gratitude. "You've all done more than I could have imagined," she said. "This—this is incredible."
Another voice joined in, younger and eager. "We'll open more water paths to the village tomorrow," one of the men said, wiping sweat from his brow. "From the forest's stream. Now that we have the warrior, we'll feel safer working close to it." His gaze flicked toward Hikarimetsu, who stood beside Emilia, arms crossed and chin tilted in that effortlessly commanding way of hers.
Emilia nodded approvingly. "Good idea. The spring water there is clean and steady. If we can bring it closer, this village will have all it needs to live properly—water, food, medicine…" She paused, running a hand over the smooth wooden seat of the toilet, still marveling. "And even comfort."
Hikarimetsu stepped closer, her eyes glinting mischievously. She slid an arm around Emilia's shoulder, then both, pulling her gently against her chest from behind. Her tone was teasing but affectionate. "Your fame spreads, Master," she said, her voice low and smooth. "You're changing how these people live, starting from where they poop."
Emilia groaned, her cheeks flushing despite herself. "Oh, shut up," she muttered, elbowing her lightly in the ribs. But she couldn't stop the smile that tugged at her lips.
But when they left her alone, she lingered by the hut, tracing the wooden doorframe with her fingertips. It was such a simple thing, a small comfort, built with effort and care. Yet to her, it meant everything.
For the first time since arriving in this strange world, Emilia felt truly at ease. She smiled softly. "A toilet," she whispered. "Who knew that'd be my first real victory?"
The day turned dark quicker than Emilia expected. After teaching the villagers how to cook simple meals and sharing dinner with them by the fire, laughter and gratitude filled the air until the stars blinked awake above Tharrosk.
When the meal was done, she returned to her cabin, exhaustion clinging to her limbs but satisfaction warming her chest. She then opened the small hut after putting some of her belongings inside her cabin.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of herbs and smoke. Emilia lit a small oil lamp, its golden glow washing over the wooden walls. She reached for a basin and poured in a bit of clean water, sighing as the coolness touched her skin. "Just a quick wash," she muttered. "Enough to not feel like I've been rolling in dirt all day."
As she began to scrub at her neck and arms, Hikarimetsu leaned lazily against the doorframe, her silver hair catching the lamplight. "Do you need help scrubbing your back?" she asked with a sly smile.
Emilia shot her a look over her shoulder. "I'm going to poop, not take a bath. I don't want you staring at me while I'm popping."
Hikarimetsu blinked, then nodded solemnly, as if this were a very serious matter. "Makes sense."
Emilia rolled her eyes but couldn't help the tiny laugh that slipped out. She picked up a silk fern leaf. "But," Emilia added as she started to scrub her body while sitting on the garderobe, "I want you to stay close. Just in case. Keep me safe."
Hikarimetsu straightened, hand resting on the hilt of her blade, though Emilia suspected the gesture was more for show than necessity. "Of course," she said with mock seriousness. "That goes without saying, really."
Emilia smirked. "Good. Because if I get attacked by a monster mid-poop, I'm haunting you."
That earned her a quiet chuckle from the spirit. "Noted, Master. I'll guard your… sacred moment."
"Don't make it sound weird," Emilia grumbled, closing the door behind her. "And stop staring; just wait outside."
"Fine, fine." Hikarimetsu walked outside the hut and stayed in front of the curtain.
Outside, the forest rustled softly, the moonlight spilling across the rebuilt village. Somewhere beyond the trees, a distant howl echoed, but in the Tharrosk, everything is calm.