Chapter 360: The First Tower
By the fifteenth day on the construction site, Leo felt as though everything had
finally entered a stable orbit.
The prototype building had already reached the eighth floor. The progress was
moving even faster than the initial projections.
Their daily workflow had solidified into a predictable routine: Arrive at the
site in the morning, coordinate technical details with the Empire's
architectural team, and troubleshoot sudden "Logic Errors." Return in the
afternoon to revise blueprints. In the evening, pick up supplies at the
Evernight Mall or check for discount campaigns at The Succubus's Dream.
The rhythm of life was so stable it was easy to forget he was on a business trip
in another world.
Then, Bobo happened. Again.
Around ten in the morning, Leo was on the third floor of the site, inspecting
the pre-drilled holes for the utility conduits. Suddenly, a commotion erupted
outside, followed by a dwarf's gravelly roar that pierced through the entire
construction zone.
"BOBO!! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!!"
Leo hurried to the window.
Perched on the external scaffolding of the eighth floor was Bobo—the Goblin who
had been kicked out of plumbing, reassigned to landscaping, and had somehow
infiltrated the structural crew.
He was straddling a crossbeam, a coil of green vines wrapped around his waist
for a makeshift safety harness. In his hand, he brandished a magical tool he'd
scavenged from somewhere, hammering away furiously at a pre-installed stone
wall.
Stone dust rained down like snow, forcing the workers below to scramble for
cover.
"I'm optimizing the design!" Bobo's voice drifted down from the heights. "This
wall is too depressing! I'm giving it a circular window!"
"Circular window my ass! The blueprints say square!" the Dwarf blacksmith
screamed, the veins in his neck bulging like thick cables.
"Squares are boring!"
"It's not your call to make, you green idiot!"
Milo ran over from the other side of the floor, his hair dusted white with lime
powder. "What happened now?"
"Bobo's carving the eighth floor," Leo sighed.
"What?"
"He decided the windows in our design weren't 'aesthetic' enough. He's
self-correcting the parameters."
Milo looked up just as a thumb-sized stone chip pinged off his hard hat. "..."
Leo's first thought was: That wall has Mana-reinforcement. His second thought
was: Is Bobo even making a dent?
The answer was: No.
Bobo hammered away with his magical tool for five minutes. On that stone wall,
reinforced by the high-tier magic of a Lich, he hadn't even managed to leave a
scratch the size of a fingernail.
Gasping for air, Bobo lifted his tool to examine the tip, then glared at the
tiny white speck he'd managed to produce. "This wall is unnaturally hard!"
"No kidding! It's an Imperial wall! Of course it's hard!" the Dwarf bellowed. He
turned and made a sharp gesture to a Skeleton Foreman.
The Skeleton Foreman… transmitted the command through some silent frequency Leo
still couldn't fathom. Gah-clack.
Thirty seconds later, two Skeleton Soldiers scaled the scaffolding with
terrifying agility. They plucked Bobo off the beam as easily as one might pick a
grape, tucked him under their arms, and descended to the ground with mechanical
stability.
Bobo's short legs kicked the air a few times before he finally accepted his fate
and went limp.
Upon reaching the ground, the Skeleton Foreman shoved Bobo toward the site
supervisor—a high-ranking Vampire.
The Vampire looked down at Bobo, then up at the barely visible white speck on
the eighth floor.
"Landscaping," the Vampire said coldly.
"No! The Elf said my flowerpot arrangement looked like a graveyard! He won't let
me back in!" Bobo blurted out, desperate. "I worked so hard to get back to the
structural team—"
"Sanitation," the Vampire interrupted.
"Eh?"
"Go. Now."
"But—"
The Vampire didn't even give him a second glance as he turned away. Bobo stood
there, his shoulders slumped so low his hands nearly dragged on the dirt.
A passing human volunteer patted his back in sympathy. "Just accept it,
brother."
"But I'm a technician..." Bobo muttered, clutching his blunted magical tool.
"Everyone back in my village said I was a genius."
"Are there other Goblins in your village?" the human asked.
"Yeah, over a hundred."
"And all hundred of them thought you were a genius?"
Bobo hesitated. "Well… not all of them. Maybe… seven or eight?" He paused. "And
five of them were my relatives."
The human volunteer withdrew his hand and walked away without another word.
Leo had witnessed the entire sequence from the third-floor window. He was still
holding his measuring tape, but his focus was gone. To be honest, he found Bobo
interesting. Despite the Goblin's ability to send everyone's blood pressure
skyrocketing, his passion for architecture was genuine.
It was just that his methods were… very Goblin. Very, very Goblin.
That afternoon, Milo brought another update.
"Director Miller just got back from Command. He says that once the prototype
tops out, the Empire is throwing a small celebration."
"A celebration?" Leo asked.
"Yeah. All volunteers and staff are invited. Command is providing the rations
and drinks."
"The Empire actually does social morale events?"
"Supposedly it was approved by the State Army higher-ups. They want to 'increase
cohesion and a sense of belonging' among the multi-racial crews. Basically, a
company dinner."
This happened in the Eldritch Realm too—topping-out ceremonies. But usually,
those involved the client giving a speech, the contractors clapping, and
everyone going home.
Would the Imperial version be different?
As it turned out, it was very different.
On the twentieth day, the prototype building topped out.
As the final roof slab settled into place under the shimmering glow of
Mana-reinforcement, a cheer erupted across the site.
The Dwarves hammered their breastplates with their fists, creating a metallic
roar. The Orcs let out guttural bellows, human volunteers high-fived one
another, and the Skeletons… well, they didn't cheer. Instead, they stopped
working in perfect unison, turned toward the building, and stood in a silent,
motionless salute.
Leo wasn't sure if this was the skeletal version of a standing ovation, but it
felt solemn.
The celebration was held in the open clearing next to the site. Dozens of long
tables were lined up, covered in white cloth and piled high with food and drink.
The roasted meats were prepared by the Dwarves—fragrant, charred, and portions
larger than Leo's head. The salads were the work of the Elves, served in bowls
woven from living leaves, looking more like fine art than food. The
staples—various breads and meat pies—were provided by the human volunteers.
And the desserts… the desserts were a gift from the Sunflower Merchant Guild.
Massive platters of honey cakes and preserved fruits.
Leo sat at a long table with a giant mug of malt liquor and a slab of meat that
eclipsed his plate. Milo sat next to him, his mouth so full he could barely
articulate.
"You think… back home… a topping-out ceremony would have this kind of spread?"
Milo mumbled.
"In your dreams," Leo replied.
A Dwarf blacksmith nearby overheard them and leaned over, thrusting his mug
toward them. "You two the designers from the Eldritch Realm?"
"That's us," Leo said.
"Good work! The tower looks sharp! That trick with the glass and stone—that was
your idea?"
"Roughly, yes."
"I'll drink to that!"
Leo raised his mug and took a sip. The Dwarf malt liquor was potent; it burned a
trail from his throat all the way to his stomach.
At another table, Director Miller was sitting with several Vampire supervisors.
To Leo's surprise, they seemed to be getting along quite well. The Vampires
didn't eat, but they held glasses filled with a crimson liquid that Leo decided
not to inspect too closely.
Further away, a group of Orcs and humans were arm-wrestling. The Orcs won five
rounds in a row; not a single human could hold their ground. Then, a Dragon-man
walked over, sat down, and placed his hand on the table.
The Orc looked at the Dragon-man's hand—covered in dark red scales, with thick
knuckles and razor-sharp talons. The Orc silently withdrew his arm.
"Never mind, let's just drink. Drinking is better."
The Dragon-man's lips quirked—it might have been a smile.
Even Bobo was there. He sat alone at the very edge of a table, huddled behind a
mountain of food scraps. A Goblin's appetite was completely disproportionate to
its physical size.
As he ate, he suddenly stood up and raised his cup toward the new building. "To
the first High-Rise of Evernight!"
No one paid him any attention. Bobo didn't care; he downed his drink in one go,
let out a massive burp, and went back to eating.
Leo watched it all while taking a bite of his steak.
Dwarves, Orcs, Elves, Humans, Goblins, Dragon-men, Skeletons, and Vampires. They
came from different races; some spoke, some didn't. Some ate meat, some drank
blood, and some required no sustenance at all.
Yet at this moment, they were all gathered around the same tables in front of a
tower they had built with their own hands.
It's not bad, Leo thought. Not bad at all.
Milo stuffed another piece of cake into his mouth. "Chief Leo… when we
eventually go back, I'm gonna dream about this barbecue for the rest of my
life."
"Eat less, think more. We have to revise the prints tomorrow."
"Revise what?"
"Command sent over a new mission briefing this afternoon." Leo pulled a folded
piece of parchment from his pocket and spread it on the table.
Milo leaned in. The paper showed a rough silhouette of a massive complex. Below
it were several lines of text:
[OBJECTIVE: EVER-NIGHT ACADEMY – IRON FORTRESS CAMPUS] [TASK: DESIGN PROPOSAL
FOR MAIN TEACHING BLOCK] [REQUIREMENTS: MINIMUM 15 FLOORS. MUST BE FULLY
COMPATIBLE FOR ALL IMPERIAL RACES.]
Including but not limited to:
- Dragon-men (Height 2m+, winged variants).
- Dwarves (Height ~1.2m).
- Goblins (Height <1m).
Milo slowly lowered his cake. "Compatible for all races… How high do the doors
need to be? How wide are the stairs? How many different sizes of desks and
chairs do we need?"
Leo tucked the paper away. "Exactly. So don't eat too much. We've got work to
do."
In the distance, the Evernight Lights flickered on, bathing the newly topped-out
tower in a brilliant glow. The ten-story structure stood out sharply against the
Iron Fortress skyline, a stark, modern contrast to the two-story stone houses
surrounding it.
The era of skyscrapers had officially manifested in the Empire.
☆☆☆
-> 20 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you