Reborn in the Survival Adventure Game-Chapter 52: Lines and Signal

The sky was still pale when Borin started shouting again.

"Alright, spread out! This place is turning into a maze!" he barked, pointing at the village map scratched into a wooden board.

He stood in the center with a few goblins and two golems around him. One of them held a basket of stones, the other held a shovel. With their help, Borin was slowly reshaping the village. He added paths between houses using packed dirt and stone, even planned open areas for farming and training.

Caelen watched from a distance, arms crossed. "He really took over."

Zira passed him, carrying a sack of nails. "That's Borin. Bossy, but smart."

Near the fields, Garin wiped sweat from his forehead as he worked with six goblins. They were learning how to plant rows, collect eggs, clean tools, and cook with what they had. Garin crouched beside one and showed how to cover seeds with just enough soil.

"Not too deep," he said. "Or they'll never grow."

One young goblin nodded, tongue out in focus. "Like this?"

Garin smiled. "Better. You'll feed this whole place before long."

On the edge of the village, Zira and Elira prepared to leave. Elira checked her daggers while Zira packed dried food into a pouch.

"You sure you want to come?" Elira asked.

Zira nodded. "There might be more survivors out there. I want to know if anyone else made it. Plus, I want to find some useful herbs."

They waved goodbye and disappeared into the trees.

Back in the forge, Dorgrim was hammering a red-hot blade. Sparks flew as he shaped it into a curved point. Ren Laen leaned nearby, sketching on parchment. frёewebnoѵēl.com

"You think a curved bow will work better?" Dorgrim asked.

Ren nodded. "Faster reload. Better in tight forest. I want to try making it from both wood and metal."

Dorgrim grunted. "Then we'll make it. Haven't done bowwork in years."

"You never made a bow," Ren smirked.

"Shut it, elf. I've dreamed about it, haven't I?"

Meanwhile, Caelen sat alone in his house. His chair creaked as he leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

The village was safe. Food was growing. People were working.

But now what?

"What's next...?" he whispered to himself.

He tapped his fingers against the table. Then suddenly stopped.

A strange idea hit him.

"...What if I made a telephone?"

He sat up straighter. It was dumb. It was crazy. But... maybe it wasn't impossible.

He opened his interface.

[Search: How to make a simple telephone]

The answer showed drawings of two devices linked with wires, cups, magnets, and a power source.

He muttered, "I've got copper. I can shape plastic or wood. I've got fire, metal, even golems..."

He stood, thinking harder. If he could get even a simple speaker and receiver working, maybe the village could talk across distance. One house to another. Or guard posts. Or Zira and Elira if they went too far...

"It doesn't have to be modern," he whispered. "Just useful."

He opened a new note in the interface and started drawing plans. Wooden boxes for the body. Copper for wire. Maybe a crystal for signal boost. He had no batteries, but maybe the furnace and magnets could power something simple.

It wasn't much. But it was a start.

Outside, the sun moved slowly above the trees.

By afternoon, Borin and the goblins had finished laying paths between every home and the storage shed. Even the town hall got a new porch and benches.

"It's starting to look like a real town," one goblin muttered.

Borin nodded proudly. "Not bad for a bunch of green hands."

Near the fields, a group of goblins had finished planting new rows. Garin showed them how to water the soil using carved wooden buckets. A few others learned how to make soup with onions, corn, and dried meat.

Inside the forge, Ren held up a bowstring made of twisted silk and hair. Dorgrim had just finished carving a light frame from a strange red wood.

"Let's test it tomorrow," Ren said.

Dorgrim crossed his arms. "It better not break on the first pull."

Ren grinned. "If it does, we blame the trees."

By evening, the village glowed with orange light from the fire pits and lanterns. Golems still patrolled the outer paths, moving silently.

Caelen stood near the center, arms behind his back.

His village was growing. Not just in size—but in people. In spirit.

He watched a young goblin boy chase after one of the golems, laughing. A few others shared food near the stream. Someone played a flute made from bone. It was off-key, but cheerful.

Then he looked at the paper in his hand. His plan for the telephone.

"Tomorrow," he said to himself. "We start."