Chapter 142: Apparently, There’s Nothing Like Carpenters in the Demon Realm
Chapter 142: Apparently, There’s Nothing Like Carpenters in the Demon Realm
Elyn’s POV
Zorathys.
Versha, Marrok, Morthen, Vaelory, and Rin all stood in shock. Even the gargoyles that had stopped and surrounded us froze in place.
"Okay..." I started, but he interrupted me again.
"You can do anything you like and whatever you want. The castle is yours to rule over." He spoke, but this time, the words were only for my ears.
"I’m sure that’s just an excuse not to work."
"I don’t make excuses not to work. I just don’t do it. Why would I make excuses for something I don’t even like doing?" he replied.
"How are you king and sleep and read novels only?"
"I play games too, but I’m kind because I’m good at it. But like I said, you can do anything you want. Use Versha, Marrok, and the others." He told me, barely holding back a yawn.
Yes, I heard it in his voice.
Then suddenly, his voice enveloped the castle again.
"From now on, anything anyone has to do or ask which would normally require my approval... meet the queen."
He yawned, and then the voice stopped.
Why did I feel like I was going to regret what Zorathys just did? Everyone—every demon in the castle—would have to meet me if they needed something. I felt dread creep up my skin. Yes, I was going to regret this, but first of all, we needed to create a board the gargoyles could use.
"Well... that’s that," I said. "Is there any carpenter who can create the board?" I asked Marrok.
Rin tilted her head slowly, black orbs locking onto my face. Her brows knitted together, her expression scrunching up like she was physically wrestling a thought into existence.
"...A carpenter?" she repeated.
Vaelory, who had been standing far too close to Rin for her liking, immediately took one deliberate step back—distance established, boundaries enforced. Rin noticed, though.
She rolled her eyes at Vaelory with all the grace of a falling brick and looked back at me.
"What’s a carpenter, my lady?"
Vaelory scoffed loudly. "Of course you wouldn’t know what a carpenter is."
Marrok, Versha, and Morthen all stared at me blankly, and I realized at that point that perhaps they all didn’t know what a carpenter was.
Azerion, who had been standing beside me quietly, swinging our joined hands, tapped my arm gently.
"What’s a cawpwenter?" he asked, genuinely curious.
"It’s carpenter," I corrected him calmly.
I crouched slightly so I was closer to their eye level, releasing Azerion’s hand to rest my palms on my knees.
"A carpenter," I began slowly, choosing my words carefully, "is a person who creates things out of wood."
He just gave me a blank stare, those blue orbs of his staring back at me.
"...Like furniture," I added. "Do you know what furniture is?"
He shook his head.
"Tables. Chairs. Doors. Boards," Rin told him.
"Oh, okay," Azerion said.
Rin’s brows furrowed harder. "So these carpenters... they just... hit wood until it becomes useful?"
"...In the most disrespectful summary possible," I muttered, then sighed. "Yes. But also no."
I straightened and gestured with my hands as I spoke, instinctively slipping into explanation mode.
"In the human realm, there were people who specialized in crafting things. Some used tools—hammers, saws, nails. Others used magic. Most used both. They understood materials—how wood bends, how it breaks, how stone carries weight. They didn’t just make things; they designed them so they wouldn’t collapse or injure people."
Morthen’s eyes lit up faintly behind his glasses.
"Material integrity," he murmured.
I had no idea what he just said, but I nodded all the same.
"Exactly."
Versha crossed two of her arms while another rested on her hip. "So... a creator demon?"
Again, I had no idea what a creator demon was, but I wasn’t going to tell them that.
"Something like that," I said. "But more specialized and focused."
Rin’s eyes widened slightly. Marrok nodded slowly.
"Oooh."
Morthen followed.
"Oooh."
Versha, after a beat, added, "...Oooh."
The gargoyles hovering around us—who had been listening very intently while understanding absolutely nothing—immediately echoed in unison:
"Oooh."
I stared at them, and they blinked back. I was very certain they had no idea what was going on right now.
One gargoyle nodded enthusiastically anyway and flew straight into a pillar.
I rubbed my temple. "Right. So. Do you have carpenters here or—"
Marrok cleared his throat. "We do, but they are not called carpenters, my lady."
Why wasn’t I surprised?
I looked at him. "What are they called?"
"They are known as Gravemelders."
That... was not what I expected.
"Gravemelders?" I repeated.
"Yes," Marrok said. "They are a specific caste of stone demons—and yes, they work mainly with stone. Though ’stone’ is a simplification. They work with wood, bone, obsidian, marble, runed metals. Anything that can be shaped."
Morthen nodded and adjusted his glasses. "They do not simply carve. They bind. They meld materials using earth-aspected magic, reinforcing structure through sigils and pressure manipulation."
"...So," I said slowly, "like... magic architects."
Versha smiled. "Much better than humans hitting wood."
I had to agree with her. It was very much better than hitting wood.
"And you have some... here?" I asked.
"Yes," Marrok replied. "Several reside within the castle. They help create furniture, and they also helped build the grand staircase."
"...Why didn’t anyone suggest this earlier?" I asked.
Vaelory coughed. "We didn’t know what a carpenter was."
Rin nodded seriously. "I still don’t get what a carpenter is. I only know they sound lame, but Gravemelders are better."
Azerion tugged my sleeve. "Can they make toys?"
Everyone paused.
Marrok blinked. "...Yes?"
Azerion smiled brightly. "How about boxes to keep my sweets?"
"Sweets you stole," Rin whispered.
It seemed Azerion was in a good mood because he didn’t answer her at all.
"They can," Morthen told him, adjusting his glasses.
"Hmmm... I like them," Azerion decided with a smile, and I noticed there was a chocolate stain on his teeth.
I chuckled at that. I was going to clean that once I was done with the gargoyles.
"Alright," I said, straightening. "Let’s summon one."
Marrok gestured to one of the gargoyles.
"Bartholomew, here," the gargoyle said.
"Get me a Gravemelder."
"Yes, sir," Bartholomew said with a nod.
We all watched with bated breath. There was every probability that—
"He’s back," Vaelory said with a laugh.
Marrok sighed. "I’ll just go myself," he told me.
Bartholomew watched him with a frown as Marrok left the hall. A few minutes later, he returned, but he wasn’t alone.
A demon followed him. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his skin textured like polished granite veined with faint gold lines. His horns curved backward, thick and asymmetrical, and his eyes glowed a calm, earthen amber. Runes crawled slowly along his forearms, rearranging themselves like living script.
He bowed deeply. "You summoned, my queen."
"Yes," I said. "I need your help building a messenger board—something the gargoyles can use."