Legendary Extraction: Kingdom Builder in a Ruined World

Elias climbed up the angled beams of the roof, arms steady and feet sure. He had tied strong ropes between the support beams to help him keep his balance. One wrong step from this height, and he'd be eating dirt. It wouldn't be dangerous with his current stats, but he still didn't want to fall.

Vael stood just below, handing him bundles of dried Ashveil grass one by one. Elias took each bundle carefully, layering them over the wooden frame. The blades of Ashveil grass were thick and dry, forming natural shingles. They overlapped like scales, each one tied down tightly with strong twine.

He worked fast—but not carelessly.

Using the knowledge from his Construction skill, Elias made sure each layer was at the right angle. The thatch was packed tight to resist wind and thick enough to shed rain. Every bundle was tied down firmly.

The sun beat down on him without mercy. Sweat ran down his forehead and soaked into his shirt. Still, he kept going. He didn't stop.

He had to finish it right. There was no room for mistakes.

With the final bundle tied into place, Elias gave it one last strong tug to make sure it was secure, then took a deep breath.

It was done.

> [Ding!]

[Structure Completion: 100% — Building Completed]

Structural Stability: ★★★★☆ (Solid)

Weather Resistance: ★★★☆☆ (Moderate)

Insulation: ★★★☆☆ (Comfortable)

"Not bad," Elias muttered, exhaling in relief as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

Then he jumped.

The two-storey height wasn't a problem. With his current stats, he landed softly like a cat. Knees bent, body stable, weight spread out as he straightened up and turned to face the house.

Two full floors. A strong roof. A reinforced frame. And all of it built with his own hands—well, mostly his and Vael's.

Elias stood there for a moment, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Yeah… this felt good.

But it wasn't finished yet.

Right now, it was just a structure—walls and a roof. It needed to be furnished. It needed to feel lived in.

"Come on," Elias muttered.

He and Vael got to work again.

With their Woodworking skill, crafting basic furniture was simple. Tables. Benches. A few stools. Even a simple rack to store gear and supplies.

For things they couldn't build, Elias used Karma Points to buy directly from the system store.

Hours passed in quiet, steady work.

By the time they were done, the house felt… alive.

Elias stood in the center of the lower floor, hands on his hips, admiring what they had done.

Now this felt like a real home.

He took a deep breath, then walked to the corner and started preparing a simple meal.

Vael stood nearby, watching silently as Elias sat down and ate. When he finished the last bite, Elias pulled out his [Overflow Flask] and took a long sip.

Cold, clean water ran down his throat, refreshing him. But just then, a thought struck him, and his brows furrowed.

He looked down at the flask. Fifty liters every twenty-four hours wasn't bad—but that was only enough for one or two people. Maybe three at most.

This territory wouldn't stay empty for long. Once people started moving in, fifty liters would be far from enough.

Even a hundred liters wouldn't be close.

He needed a solution. And fast.

That's when his gaze slowly shifted toward Vaels neck.

The Whisperlight Pendant.

The pendant had the power to remove the cooldown of any item or skill. What if he used it on the flask? That would turn the Everflow Flask into an infinite water source—no cooldown, just endless clean water, as long as he had enough mana.

Just then, the undead sensed his master's attention and looked up immediately. "Is something the matter, Master?"

Elias pointed to the pendant around Vael's neck.

"How exactly does that thing work—the cooldown reset part?"

Vael tilted his head slightly before answering. "The Whisperlight must be bound to an item or skill. Binding is simple—just channel mana into the pendant and direct it toward the target."

Elias nodded slowly.

"It has three binding charges," Vael continued. "One was used already. The second is currently bound to my boots, Phantomstep. That leaves only one charge left."

"Oh, I see," Elias muttered, sounding slightly disappointed.

"Is something wrong, Master? Why are you asking?"

Elias rubbed the back of his neck. "I was thinking of using it on the flask. To make it unlimited."

Vael blinked. "Ah… would you like me to unbind the current one?"

Elias paused.

He could. But—

No.

Right now, Vael's greatest strength was his ability to move freely in battle using Phantomstep. If that was removed, it would mess up his entire combat rhythm.

He couldn't risk that.

"Keep it," Elias finally said. "We'll figure out another solution later."

"Understood."

After that, Elias cleaned up, washed the utensils, and packed everything neatly back into his inventory.

By now, the sun had just passed its peak. There was still plenty of daylight left.

And with nothing urgent to do… he found himself getting bored.

For about ten seconds, he stood there, itching to move—wanting something to do.

Then, an idea sparked.

"Spar with me," he said suddenly, turning to Vael.

The undead assassin nodded immediately. "As you wish, Master."

---

Hours passed…

The air was filled with the sound of grunts, slaps, and heavy thuds.

Elias stumbled back, clutching his stomach, teeth gritted in pain. "Argh!"

A clean gut punch had sent him back several steps. He was sweating hard. Breathing heavily. Covered in dirt. There was even a bit of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

This wasn't a spar.

It was a complete beatdown.

Vael wasn't even trying—and still, Elias hadn't landed a single hit.

He had thought he was strong. And he was. Stat-wise, he was already far ahead of most people at his level.

But stats meant nothing if you didn't know how to use them.

This was a cold, brutal reminder of that.

Vael stood calmly to the side, watching him.

"You're improving," he said.

Elias let out a tired scoff. "Improving? Feels more like… learning how to get punched better."

Vael tilted his head. "No, really. Your form is still rough, but I can tell—you haven't had much real combat experience."

Elias looked down, frustrated but silent.

"You're not bad," Vael continued. "You've got power, speed, and good instincts. What you lack is range—and technique."

"Range?" Elias echoed, confused.

"Yes," Vael said. "Range is the expression of your combat form and technique. There are two main types—close and long range. But every fighter has a unique range based on their weapon, skill, and how they move."

"Take archers, for example. Someone with a light-draw bow shoots faster, but their optimal range is shorter. A heavy-draw archer shoots slower, but from farther away. Both are archers, but their combat ranges are different."

Elias nodded slowly.

Vael pointed to Elias' hands.

"Same with melee. Daggers, swords, spears—even bare fists. Each has its own natural range. But your effective range depends on how you fight. A sword user might need more space than a spear wielder—not just because of the weapon's length, but because of movement style."

"So it's not just about how long the weapon is?" Elias asked.

"Correct," Vael said. "It's about technique, positioning, and awareness. You must learn your own range—and shape your fighting style around it."

Elias was quiet for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Ahh, I see." He furrowed his brows in thought, then straightened up. "Let's continue then."