Yuki’s Ambition: The Creation of a Model
Leila’s gaze stung. It was so cold that both Lefi and I felt like it’d pierce right through us if we allowed her to continue staring at us. Unable to bear it, we excused ourselves. The dragon girl claimed to be tired and quickly retreated to take a nap, whereas I chose to head to the dungeon’s field floor under the pretense of wanting to practice magic.
I took a deep breath as soon as I arrived, allowing fresh air to fill my lungs. As soon as they were filled, I sighed. I wasn’t too sure how I was supposed to bring myself to face Lefi. Things were sure to be awkward between us.
There was no denying that I’d lost control of myself. Her wings had been so fascinating that I’d forgotten my self-restraint. Frankly put, touching them was addicting. All super high quality things had the ability to draw people to them, to retain attention for far longer than was reasonable. And Lefi’s wings were no exception. Even just running my fingers across them had totally blown my mind. The soft and silky sensation was so wonderfully addicting that I felt it deserved to be classified a dangerous narcotic.
Still, it was my fault I lost control.
You know, I think the best way for me to deal with this whole dilemma is just to pretend it never happened. Everything’ll be fine as long as I don’t make a big deal out of it. I mean, that’s what I did with the whole Illuna bloodsucking incident, and that’s turned out fine so far. In fact, I’d even go as far as to say it couldn’t have possibly turned out any better. Y-Yeah, you know what? Lefi’s probably thinking the same thing anyway. Things would start getting really awkward really fast if we started getting all conscious of each other, especially since we live together. Yup. You know what? That’s right. Nothing happened. Nothing at all.
I was all but certain that, if I ended up becoming a politician back in Japan, I would have been known as “the asshole that never shut up about not making a big deal out of everything.”
It took a while, but I eventually switched gears and directed my mind towards a task that was a bit more productive: thinking about the dungeon’s abilities. I’d spotted an interesting function earlier, but I hadn’t the chance to test it. It, Creative Construction, provided me the ability to engineer any facility I wished, exactly as I imagined it. The only thing that limited the ability was its caster, which, in this case, was me.
I had no idea as to exactly how it worked. All I knew was that it was what I liked to call a dungeon skill, an ability that functioned based off of the dungeon’s mysterious powers.
The skill was user friendly and convenient, but naturally came with its own set of drawbacks. There was no such thing as a free lunch, after all.
Its first major drawback was that it consumed a ridiculous amount of DP. A single cast of it would eat up everything I’d gotten from last night’s massacre, and then some. That said, its cost was still a mere tenth of what was needed to purchase the cheapest castle listed in the dungeon’s catalogue. Fortunately, the cost was static. It didn’t matter if I wanted to make a castle or a doghouse. They both cost exactly the same.
The second major downside was that it was extremely unforgiving. Like with primordial magic, I needed to picture what I wanted to make, down to the finest detail. If the image I had in my head wasn’t clear enough, then the spell would end up failing to create what I desired. That is, my castle would just end up as a castle sized chunk of turd if I didn’t know exactly how I wanted it to look.
My new dungeon skill’s final major issue came with the fact that it required mana to function. The amount of magical energy it needed scaled with the size of the final output. A doghouse wouldn’t have required too much mana, but a castle was a whole different story. I couldn’t even begin to fathom its requirements.
Though Creative Construction had a tonne of restrictions and stipulations, I still thought it was well worth using. Its cost was one whole order of magnitude less than the cheapest castle listed in the dungeon catalogue, and three whole orders of magnitude less than the most expensive.
It would literally take me decades to save up enough DP to purchase the most costly product. It wasn’t impossible for me to wait that long given that my lifespan was now well over a thousand years in length, but I didn’t want to. I just didn’t have the patience for it. There was no reason for me to consider buying anything that expensive without first giving Creative Construction a chance.
More importantly, the dungeon skill allowed me to customize the castle to my liking—an opportunity I could hardly turn down. I wasn’t sure whether or not I would be able to make anything tasteful, but I knew I would prefer my own creation to the cookie cutter castle listed in the dungeon’s catalogue.
Personally, I lacked the brain power to picture both the interior and exterior simultaneously. I was far too much of an amateur. Fortunately, Creative Construction was flexible enough to allow me to design the exterior on my first pass and renovate the interior thereafter, albeit at the cost of extra DP. As far as I was concerned, that was perfect. Being a M*necrafter, I knew that I could pull off tweaking the interior so long as I had the exterior crafted ahead of time.
All minecr*fters are basically wizards that excel in spatial magic, after all.
I didn’t have any specific final design in mind, so I started making random miniature models using earth magic as I got my thoughts in order. Of course, I didn’t start constructing immediately. My first step was to do research by getting myself a few reference materials using DP. Specifically, I procured 100 pictures of castles from my previous world.
My goal was to create something extravagant, so I tried finding screenshots from games, but alas, there weren’t any available. Regardless, I managed to psych myself up and get started.
“Heya Master, whatcha up to?”
Lyuu approached from behind and curiously peered at the many dirt castles sitting at my feet. She was holding a large basket filled with wet clothes. It seemed that she was getting ready to hang the laundry out to dry.
“Oh, hey Lyuu.”
“Wait, woah! Did you make all those, Master?”
“Yeah,” I replied despondent as I slowly raised the upper half of my body off the patch of grass I’d been lying down on.
“Wow! Y’sure are good at crafts ‘n stuff! They look real good!”
“Thanks… Hearing that makes me feel a lot better.”
“I-Is somethin’ wrong? You’re soundin’ kinda down.”
“Eh, you know…” I frowned.
I had all the research and skills I needed in order to create a magnificent castle. In fact, I’d even taken quite a liking to some of the miniatures I’d created. But by no means was I truly satisfied. None of the castles I’d created were up to par; I wanted to at least make something on the tier of An*r L*ndo.  But I couldn’t. No matter what I did, I found myself unable to create anything that solemn and majestic. Fr*m Software’s designers were simply out of my league. 
Wait, why the hell have I already given up? I’ve only been at this for two goddamn hours!
The wizards at F*om Software were sure to scoff at me if they heard me complain. They’d probably continued slaving away in front of their monitors, building and modeling until they started shedding tears of blood. My inability to emulate their work was a given. I’d only invested two hours to their thousands.
Expecting to achieve their standard had been nothing short of stupid on my part.
That said, I knew it wasn’t going to take me much longer. Unlike them, I didn’t have to use a game engine or 3D modeling tool. All I had to do was forge myself a mental image of the castle.
And, as the Demon Lord of Creativity , I was sure to succeed so long as I continued to push myself forward.
“Alright! One more time!”
Again, I hyped myself up before closing my eyes and focusing on the castle I wished to construct.
Imagine it. Come on Yuki, you can do this. All you have to do is imagine it.
The citadel that manifested within my mind was dyed in black. It was covered from head to toe in the very same shade of black that filled the night around it. It was impenetrable. Its pitch black ramparts loomed over all that dared to challenge it, overpowering them with its imposing presence. Strong and sturdy was its gate. It was so thick that it could tank a dragon’s assault without budging the slightest bit. And so tall it stood that it could fit a giant with room to spare. Its walls were lined with towers adorned with sharp, pointed tips, and its residential area was made entirely out of jet-black mansions that extended as far as the eye could see.
The sheer size of the property was abnormal. And at its center lay the palace, solemn as a chapel and large enough to dwarf its surroundings. Dull lights shined out from within the structure’s windows, illuminating it just enough for its outline to be seen in the darkness of the night. It was so stunning to see that it could only be described as phantasmagorical. And though it was ominous, it still tugged at the hearts of all that looked upon it.
That was what I wanted to create: an intimidating fortress that inspired fear, dread, and passion in those that saw it. I wanted it to make its beholders feel not only tiny and insignificant, but also stupefied by its majesty.
An ideal that no true man could deny.
Once I solidified the image, I activated my primordial magic and forced the earth itself to move. The soil around me warped, obeying my commands.
Creating a miniaturized model of something was normally quite difficult. There was a complicated and detailed manufacturing process, involving many steps that I failed to understand. Primordial magic, however, allowed me to circumvent the more complicated steps and skip to materializing the result exactly as I wished for it, so long as I could picture it clearly in my head.
It didn’t take long for the fortress to finish coming together.
“Oh, this one’s actually not too bad.”
Though tiny, the castle I created held a majestic sense of presence. It was beautiful; I could feel it drawing me in already. Unfortunately, it was only made of dirt, so it was brown as opposed to the deep black I’d had in mind, but still, it looked quite impressive. I almost couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes off it.
“Wow Master! The one you just made is lookin’ super awesome!”
“Yeah. It turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself.”
Finally satisfied, I nodded. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted. A few of the finer details were still off, but it was good enough for me to work off of. I no longer needed to draft another concept from scratch.
A sense of motivation assailed me; I felt the urge to continue practicing so I could use Creative Construction to complete the real deal on my first attempt.
“Alright Lyuu, watch this! I’m going to make it even better!”
“E-Even better!? It ain’t good ‘nuff already!?” Her eyes sparkled. “Wow! I can’t wait!”
“Heh. They don’t call me the Demon Lord of Creation for nothing. Just watch! I’ll open your eyes to my glory!”
And so, Lyuu ended up getting so caught up in watching me practice that she forgot to do the laundry.
 Should be obvious, but this is “minecrafter.” Apparently some of the people that play the game actually call themselves this. `-`
 Anor Londo, beautiful large castle in Dark Souls.
 From Software. The people that made Dark Souls, Armored Core, and some other famous stuff. In the raw, they were called by a nickname, but apparently the English speaking fanbase doesn’t have anything similar. Oh well.
 He dubs himself this in chapter 20 or 21.