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Construction Mage - Chapter 1: Homeless Laborer
🕑 Added 2025-03-31 20:55:01 +0000 UTC“Rise and shine, milord.”
Clay’s eyes abruptly shot open as he noticed someone nearby. His hands latched onto the shovel he kept nearby as he popped up into a sitting position. Almost instantly, he went from slumber to being ready to defend himself. He let out a groan when he met eyes with a familiar man with a scruffy auburn beard staring down at him, with a timid boy no older than sixteen standing nervously behind.
He calmed down upon realizing there were no immediate threats, but he could still feel his heart racing and the adrenaline coursing through his body. It was something he never got used to, despite suffering from it multiple times since he arrived in this new world three months ago. He could only suck it up, as it was one of the drawbacks of sleeping outdoors where he lacked the sense of safety a shelter would offer.
It could also have to do with the fact that monsters overran this world, as they constantly spewed out from the dungeons spread all over the place. He still missed the first few nights when he could sleep with a peace of mind when he hadn’t learned the truth yet.
Shaking his head, Clay slowly stood up as he rubbed his eyes. He took a moment to survey his surroundings, finding the construction site he had slept in to be in order before he responded to his wake-up crew.
“Come on, it’s my last day. Can’t you cut me some slack, Garrick?”
In response, the large man with unkempt red hair and a full beard yanked his blanket away. Clay couldn’t help but shiver upon being suddenly exposed to the morning chill while he only had his inner garments on.
“Quiet, you! Who do you think will have to pick up your slack after you leave? The rest of us will, of course! This newbie is the replacement we talked about, so you better train him well, or I’ll come find your arse no matter where you hide. Just remember I had a part in constructing half the third ring, so I’ll getcha alright.”
Clay murmured a few curses under his breath as he neatly folded the thick sheet of cloth he had used as a blanket for the night and then moved on to get dressed.
“Give him a moment, lad,” Garrick turned to the boy behind him. “You know how them lordships are. If you leave them be, they’d easily sleep ’til noon!”
“What? A lord? Shouldn’t you—um, be more polite?”
As the boy spoke, his head peeked out from around the larger foreman’s frame, curiously examining what he thought to be a noble. The more he talked, the more his voice faltered as if he found it hard to believe that the man before him was one of the powerful people he had heard so much about.
“Don’t believe everything he says,” Clay defended. “I’m not really a noble or anything. Garrick here just has the strange hobby of reminding himself about the mistakes he’s made in life.”
The new information only made the boy even more confused.
“It wasn’t my fault!” the large, red-haired foreman bellowed. “Any man with eyes would’ve thought you were one of them nobles with those strange clothes you wore.”
Clay didn’t say anything and only flashed his boss a shit-eating grin. He made the man turn red like a tomato. However, before he could blow his top, Clay took shelter behind the unfamiliar boy.
“Name’s Clayton Stratton, but people just call me Clay.”
He held out a hand to the boy, who seemed to be stunned for some reason. A full second later, he came back to reality and noticed Clay’s gesture. Blinking blankly a few times, he then spat down at his own hand, then rubbed against his shirt before taking the offered hand.
It took a lot out of Clay to remain calm and maintain his business smile. He couldn’t have boasted such control a few months ago when he had just arrived at Ravenhold, but a few months could change a lot about a man. Especially one filled with hardship, where he was broke and survival was all he could strive for.
“I’m Bradley. Nice to meet you, Lord Clay,” the boy stiffly introduced.
Almost immediately, a hearty guffaw could be heard from behind. Clay ignored it and quickly corrected the young man.
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m not a lord. Just call me Clay.”
“Um, right. Yes, sir—Clay.”
“Anyway, I’ll leave the lad with you, Clay. You take good care of him. I’ll come check on you two at noon.”
Giving an encouraging slap to the young boy, Garrick departed from the little corner of the worksite they were in. It was where a few canopies were set up to shelter the materials from the elements.
In the greater part of the worksite, two dozen were already hard at work, stacking up neatly cut stones in an effort to complete the other half of the church they were building. They consisted of masons, carpenters, and even an engraver who was carefully inspecting a life-size statue of some woman in regal clothing. As the foreman for the site, it was evident that Garrick had his work cut out for him.
The two men abandoned by Garrick took a moment to track him across the construction site before their gaze lingered on the completed portions of the church. They couldn’t be blamed, as Clay really agreed it was a work of art.
The tall three-story structure was entirely made of granite. The front of it had already been completed, and stained glass had already been fitted. The architectural curves, as well as the detailed engravings done by the master craftsmen, were a sight to behold even when compared to the modern buildings. In fact, Clay would confidently state that the structure, built in this less technologically advanced world, was more visually appealing in his opinion.
The artisanal touch was something he thought to be lost in modern architecture. Clay had no background in construction, but he knew it was likely due to prioritizing efficiency, speed, and cost-effectiveness.
Not that it helped. I still barely made rent, not to mention a mortgage.
Having had enough of appreciating the half-complete church, Clay finally took a closer look at his supposed protege for the day.
He had a youthful face, which gave away his age, but his body was otherwise surprisingly fit. He was tall for his age, being only half a head shorter than either Garrick or him. That was a height to boast about for being at an age where he had a lot more growing to do. To put it in perspective, Clay was six feet two, and his boss was similar. They were also both quite fit, with ample muscle sticking to their bones. For Clay, it was the result of years of taking advantage of the showers at the gym that were conveniently next to his old workplace. Back then, he thought it was a godsend after working up a sweat all day in his retail job.
“You’re pretty big for what? A fourteen-year-old? What made you take a job in the fourth ring?”
“Fifteen. My parents manage to get by running a store in the third ring, but err—I’m the third son. Figure it would be a good idea to claim a plot of land for myself before I got kicked out.”
“You do realize you’re literally risking your life, right? Look over there,” Clay pointed to the distance, where numerous tiny figures swarmed around a half-built wall. “That thing isn’t going to be complete for at least a year.”
The young man nodded.
“But it’s better than working the wall there, right? With double the pay, this is a relatively great opportunity!”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Clay shrugged. “Have Garrick run you through the drills for when the monsters attack?”
“Umm, no?”
“G—Damn it,” Clay caught himself last second before he swore in the name of god. It wasn’t good to do so next to a church, but the main reason was that he really started to believe in some type of godly existence. It was hard not to when he suddenly found himself transported to another world after supposedly getting run over by a truck in a freak accident.
“Sir?” Bradley nervously looked up at him, with a face that shouted he had done something wrong, but didn’t know what.
Clay sighed and was just about to continue when the sound of bells being struck repeatedly echoed throughout the entire city. It came from the wall he had just pointed out and made Clay’s old habits resurface. As they say, old habits die hard.
“God damn it!”
“What is that, sir?”
“That’s the thing Garrick should’ve taught you about before you stepped foot out of the third ring, but never mind that now. We need to take shelter!”
Without waiting for Bradley’s mind to catch up, Clay grabbed his wrist and pulled him along as he led him to the only semi-complete shelter in the vicinity—the church. Not many forces were as wealthy as the Church of Life, willing to splurge on real estate before the defensive walls were even complete. Hiring capable Delvers to stand guard was not cheap.
The world Clayton had stumbled into wasn’t a peaceful one. It didn’t take him long before he learned about the existence of monsters and the dungeons they spewed out of. He couldn’t find out much about them, but it was enough for him to know they were dangerous.
As the alarm continued to ring and the two ran for the shelter, dozens of tiny black dots emerged from the skyline. They rapidly grew larger, and by the time Clay was halfway to the church, he could already make out the figure of the strange flying creatures.
“Hippogryph!” he cursed.
They were shaped like a horse, but had an avian head and a pair of wings. It had sharp talons for forelimbs, but worst of all, it was capable of magic.
As soon as they were in range, a fierce gust of wind began to assault the worksite. Clay could hear the boy’s cries from behind him. Unfortunately, he hadn’t gained any amazing powers when he found himself transported to another world. All he could do was lower his center of gravity and push forth.
The two were helplessly blown back as a tornado abruptly appeared beside them. Just as their heart dropped as they looked up to find the creatures diving toward them, a blaze suddenly lit up the horizon. It caused warm air to wash over them, but its effects in the skies were much deadlier.
As if it had a mind of its own, the blaze swept across the invading monsters, burning them to a crisp. A moment later, arrows filled the skies, along with a few lances of ice.
Bradley watched on with wide eyes, rooted in place, unwilling to let Clay pull him along any further.
“Is that magic?” he muttered. “It’s beautiful—and powerful.”
“Kid, this isn’t the time or place to be appreciating the fireworks. Get. Inside. Now!”
While Bradley was only half a head shorter, Clay was much stronger. He likely weighed a good fifty pounds more from his muscles, and he effortlessly carried the boy away like a princess.
“You’re going to have to get used to the rules here if you want to work in the fourth ring,” Clay reprimanded as he threw him into the building. “You’re lucky help arrived so fast this time, but that won’t always be the case.”
***
Half a day later, Clay was forcibly taken away.
“Alright, boys. Wrap it up; we’ll call it a day here,” Garrick bellowed across the worksite before turning to Clay and Bradley. “It’s your last day. How ’bout we celebrate—”
“Work’s over,” Clay said curtly, cutting him off.
“C’mon, don’t be a loner until the end. I’ll even treat you. What d’ya say?”
Hearing the offer of free food, Clay quickly changed his tune. To save money, he had been enduring homelessness, so putting up with some social interaction for food was more than worth it.
“Sure.”
“Haha, let’s go then. You too, Bradley. Let’s celebrate your first day of work while we’re at it.”
The three soon followed the other workers’ footsteps, merrily chatting about their day as they headed for the walls that protected the third ring. They were so relaxed despite the earlier attack, as if it were just another day at work. That was because it was just like any other day. Monsters attacking was common enough that it didn’t faze anyone anymore. At least the folks who frequented the outskirts of the city.
The area between the third and fourth walls was expansive, especially because the majority of it was just empty plots of land. The few structures were near either of the two walls and were only there to aid in the construction efforts of the new wall.
Garrick brought his proteges to a tavern just behind the gates into the third ring.
“Cheers to another good day of work behind us,” Garrick celebrated as he held up a large mug of ale.
In response, Clay cheered along with obviously faked enthusiasm. “Woo-hoo.” He sipped on a cup of tea with an unimpressed look, while Bradley took small sips from his mug.
“C’mon, Clay. It’s your last day—or so you say. You’re always welcome to come back, by the way. Especially if that dungeon business doesn’t work out.”
His words got a reaction out of the timid Bradley. Sparkles could almost be seen emanating from his eyes.
“Sir, you’re going to head into the dungeons? You’re a Delver?! My cousin is one, too!”
“Nah, this old fool isn’t one yet,” Garrick quipped. “But he had been saving up for the entrance fee. Just so happens he managed to scrounge up enough coins for it today. Isn’t that right?”
“Old fool? I’m just thirty, you know?”
“Yes. That’s old enough to sire two generations!”
Ignoring the bickering between his two seniors, the alcohol allowed Bradley to let go of his nervousness, and he began speaking more casually.
“Oh, that’s still awesome. I wanted to save up money to become a Delver, too, but my parents never let me. Said I’m too clumsy and that I’d only be wasting money to enter an early grave.”
“Of course they would say that, lad. Do you have any idea how many Delvers die every day or how many coins it takes to become one?”
“I know at least that much! A whole ten gold coins. I might be able to save enough for it in a few more years.”
“Yeah, that’s a hundred thousand Lyons! That’s a lot to gamble on for some opportunity that will only involve further dangers.”
“You sound just like my parents. Think about your life, this, stable living, that. Can’t you old folks just face it? The world is changing, and we have to change along with it!”
“Lad, you may be living with your parents, so you may have never experienced poverty and hunger, but trust me. A stable life is what you want! You can have a fulfilling life without all the dangers and bloodshed. Perfect something that suits you, and you’ll grow to love what you do. I’ve spent years honing my skills in order to make it to where I am today, but it was only recently that I came to enjoy my work. It only became fun once I’ve gotten really good at what I do. Now, I plan to live and die by my trade.”
“Wake up! We’ve entered a new era, old man!” Bradley’s tongue became looser owing to the ale. “It’s been ten years since The Descent. Dungeons and magic are what we’ll have to live with from now on. Where do you think most of the city’s supplies even come from? I don’t get why you old folks can’t understand that. Isn’t that right, Sir Clay?”
Clay completely ignored his coworkers’ ramblings and thanked the waitress for the plate of bread and cheese she brought to him. He silently took a bite while he thought about his future plans. It was his best method to tolerate the hard and dry bread of this world, which was often even mixed with sand.
I have just enough for the tax and some basic equipment, but what should I get? I have no experience wielding a sword, spear, or pretty much anything. Or do they have something for mages, like a staff?
Hopefully, the Delver community is as nice to newbies as the rumors say. I can really use some advice.
I only need to learn the basics to farm weak monsters on the early layers. I can steadily grind up my skills and slowly inch deeper when I’m sure it’s safe. Then, I’ll have an easy way to acquire funds and the capabilities to finally escape homelessness by building my own cozy abode!
Having spent three months in Ravenhold, Clay had become familiar with the prices around the city. He was excited that his plan would finally come to fruition. It was his master plan to sidestep the exorbitant cost of hiring dozens of construction workers to build a house, or having any farming obligations or arrangements with the noble landlords that came with renting almost all properties.
While the fourth ring was the most dangerous, being the ring closest to the wilderness, it was the only place he could obtain a plot of his own land.
Once he completed a residence for himself, he even had plans to use his knowledge to fill in the gaps he saw. The natives of this world were new to the concept of dungeons, monsters, and magic. There was ample opportunity for him to explore, owing to his wealth of knowledge he got from various novels and games.
“So, are you aiming to be a Conqueror or a Finder?” Bradley managed to ask after pulling away from the conversation with his boss.
Taking another sip of his tea, Clay answered resolutely.
“Finder, of course. And I’m going to take things slow. I’m too old to be chasing any grand dreams.”
“Hmm, then why do you want to become a Delver if you are so—conservative?”
Clay took a moment to chew through his food while staring at his former junior.
“Look, you may think I’m being overly cautious, but I believe this world will continue to become a lot more dangerous, year by year. It’s only been ten years since the dungeons, and we’re already holding up in our cities. What about in a few more years, when it gets worse? I became a Delver for the valuable skills that can both defend myself and earn an income. I reckon you do the same.”
“So you’re one of those doomsday people, huh?”
Seeing the look that painted him as a paranoid lunatic, he dropped the conversation and directed his attention back to his food.
***
The next morning, Clay woke up earlier than usual and headed for the inner city. The sky still had a deep, inky blue color, and only the orange rays of the sun illuminated the streets.
He would’ve preferred to go last night, but there was only so much sunlight remaining after work, and navigating through the darkness wasn’t something he was keen on ever repeating after a single experience.
In order to save enough money, Clay had exchanged his modern-day clothes for used garments and begged Garrick to allow him to sleep on the worksite for the past three months. He spent the minimal amount on food; it had felt like an eternity, but today, it was finally coming to an end.
As Clay approached the drawbridge leading to the second ring, the guards on duty warily watched him, unlike those guarding the third ring. With their unfriendly gazes, it came as no surprise when they stopped Clay from passing through. It was something he had expected to happen when trying to enter the inner city, where the wealthy stayed.
After all, he couldn’t blame the guard for being suspicious of him when he was wearing cheap, second-hand linen. The dirt accrued from the construction site didn’t help either. Combined with his robust physique, it wasn’t unreasonable that the guard thought he was up to no good.
“Halt. What business do you have in the second ring?” the guard on the left shouted out as he pointed his spear forward.
“I’m heading to the dungeon.”
“You’re a Delver? Where’s your badge and documents—and equipment?”
“I don’t have those yet. I’m going to become one now.”
“At your age?” The guard furrowed his brows as he took a reluctant step toward Clay.
“Is that a problem?”
“—No. Prove you have the funds to pay the Delver tax, and you can go.”
Clay nodded and immediately did as told. He had run through various scenarios of what could happen, and this one was one of the best results. It was why he woke up so early, to match when the guards were about to change shifts. As a retail worker for many years, he knew those whose shifts were about to end usually didn’t want to take on any extra work if they could help it.
Once he was through, Clay quickened his steps. He was simply getting too excited to contain himself. He ignored his surroundings, despite having never explored the second ring before. He went straight toward an area enclosed by walls in all four directions, along with well-defended watchtowers in the four corners.
There, he faced the last gate blocking him from his goal. The guards there seemed much more laid-back, but sported exotic equipment compared to the others. Clay knew that was naturally because they were all Delvers if they were stationed to guard the dungeon entrance.
He took a moment to take in the enclosure where the Ravenhold’s dungeon, the Greymark’s Bastion, was located. Then he turned to the nearby storefronts facing the enclosure’s high walls. They ran around the entire dungeon, all catering to the Delver clientele.
Once he notified the guards that he was there to register, they promptly brought out some documents for him to go over. It included a large piece of parchment paper and a small metal token the size of his palm.
After paying an entire ten gold coins to the guard there, the guard stamped his documents with a seal and handed the two items that marked his new identity from now on.
“Follow the path and place a hand on the altar to get started. You can’t miss it,” the guard curtly instructed. “I expect great things from a man of your physique.”
Nodding along, Clay got on his way in no time. Just like his trip through the second ring of the Ravenhold, he ignored his surroundings and single-mindedly followed the road until he reached the end. He ignored the crowds of people hawking their wares around him and soon reached an eerily unblemished pagoda made of smooth white stone. Sitting in the center of the pagoda was an altar made of the same material. There were several fine statues on the altar, but he was of no mind to care.
As he placed a hand on the cold white stone, an anticipated prompt materialized in his vision.
[Initiate? (Yes/No)]
When Clay simply focused on the ‘Yes’ option, the prompt changed without him lifting a finger.
[Select Main Class(Note: changing class is possible, but all skills and stats will be reset):
Warrior
Guardian
Ranger
Rogue
Earth Mage
Water Mage
Fire Mage
Wind Mage]
Just like with the previous prompt, Clay made his choice by simply willing it into existence.
[Class selection confirmed. Initializing parameters…]
[Select Profession Class now?]
The excitement within him made him select no. The prompt was worded in a way that meant he could come back to make his selection later, so he was in no rush for now. He simply wanted to test out his new abilities first.
[Initializing…]
[…]
[…]
[…]
[Adjusting parameters…stats-mage archetype…]
[…]
[Initialization complete.]
Within an instant, a rush of information assaulted his mind. Clay’s mind blanked for a split second before he suddenly found himself standing in a pure white room. A woman with long brown hair was staring at him from only a few steps away. Clay tried to call out to her, but found himself unable to produce any noise or even move his limbs.
He then realized he couldn’t make up the woman’s features for some reason, and panic started to set up. It got worse as she approached. Her long fingernails reached out for his eyes.
This is not what I spent three months homeless for!
