The snow outside was no longer just a weather pattern; it was a white wall, a thick, swirling curtain of ice that had officially cut the Nameless Mountain off from the rest of the world. But inside the temple, the cold was a ghost.
Thanks to the geothermal veins I had awakened, the air was a constant, balmy 22°C. The golden pollen from the Great Willow had settled into the stone, glowing with a soft, bioluminescent light that made the sanctum feel like it was perpetually bathed in the late-afternoon sun of a summer that never ended.
I floated through the system interface, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. My resources were stabilizing. I looked at the Faith Level at the top of my HUD.
[Faith Level: 85%]
It was a healthy number, earned from the deep, marrow-deep relief of Elena and the children in the valley and the growing trust of the man currently slumped against a marble pillar. It was time to stop being a "survivalist" and start being a "resident."
I was tired of stone floors and the smell of ancient dust. If I was going to be the Mother of the Mountain, my home needed to reflect the comfort of the world I had come from.
"System," I murmured, my voice echoing through the silent, warm halls. "Open the [Home Comforts] expansion. Let's see what we can do with the living quarters. Filter for 'Modern Era' aesthetics."
A new menu unfolded, shimmering with icons that looked jarringly out of place in a world of swords and sorcery. There were icons for plush fabrics, ceramic tiles, and—most importantly—advanced plumbing.
[New Feature Unlocked: The Modern Living Suite]
[Cost: 15% Faith]
I didn't hesitate. I authorized the expenditure. Suddenly, the western wing of the temple, which had been a hollow stone shell filled with dust and broken pillars, began to shimmer with a pixelated, golden light.
The rough stone floors were replaced by smooth, polished dark wood that gave off a faint, pleasant scent of cedar. The high, drafty windows were sealed with thick, double-paned glass that turned the howling mountain wind into a muffled, distant whisper.
In the center of the room, the system manifested a massive, L-shaped sectional sofa covered in a fabric that looked like charcoal velvet. It was deep, wide, and looked soft enough to swallow a person whole.
Beside the sofa, a low coffee table made of tempered glass appeared, and against the far wall, a stone hearth was modified with a modern gas-fire insert that flickered with clean, blue-and-amber flames.
"Arkael!" I called out. "Come here. I have a surprise for you."
Arkael emerged from the shadows of the Great Hall, looking deeply suspicious. He was wearing the simple linen tunic I had manifested for him earlier, his massive shoulders still tense, his eyes scanning the new room for hidden threats.
He stopped dead at the entrance of the living suite, his hand hovering over his hip as if looking for a sword.
"What is... this?" he asked, pointing a trembling finger at the sofa. "Is this a new type of altar? Why is the ground covered in dead trees that shine?"
"It's a 'Living Room,' Arkael. It's for living. Not guarding, not fighting, just... existing. And that 'altar' is called a sofa. Go on, try it."
He walked toward the sofa, circling it like it was a dangerous predator. He poked the velvet cushion with one finger. It sank in several inches, then slowly pushed back. He jumped back a full three feet, his eyes wide with horror.
"It is... alive," he whispered. "It is a mimic. A plush, grey mimic designed to trap the weary. Manajer, you have brought a monster into the inner sanctum!"
I couldn't help it; I laughed. The sound was bright and clear, echoing through the temple. "It's not a mimic, Arkael. It's designed for comfort. It is literally made of foam and fabric. Just... sit. Please. If it eats you, I promise to reboot the system."
He looked at the empty air where my voice was coming from, then at the sofa. With the caution of a man walking into a minefield, he slowly lowered his frame onto the cushions. As his full weight hit the velvet, the internal springs hissed slightly.
He sank deep. His eyes went wide as the cushions rose up around his hips. His back, which had been a rigid line of tension for a century, suddenly slumped.
"I... I cannot feel my own bones," he gasped, his arms splaying out to the sides. "Manajer, the ground has betrayed me. I am floating in a cloud of grey wool. Is this... is this how the gods sit?"
"That's called 'cushioning,' Arkael," I said, feeling a surge of glee. "Now, stay there. I'm going to fix the bathroom. Your 'Health and Hygiene' stat is currently at a 12%. We need to fix that."
I turned my attention to the adjacent chamber. The ancient temple had basic stone troughs for water, but that wasn't going to cut it for the Mother of the Mountain. I accessed the [Sanitary Suite] menu and poured another 10% Faith into the project.
The stone walls were suddenly covered in sleek, white marble tiles. A large, walk-in shower stall appeared in the corner, complete with a rainfall showerhead and polished chrome handles.
Beside it, a deep, porcelain soaking tub materialized, along with a vanity mirror that reflected light perfectly, and a row of fluffy, white towels that smelled of lavender.
The real magic, however, was the plumbing. I connected the system directly to the geothermal heating pipes I had repaired.
"Arkael, get up," I commanded. "Go into that room and take off those rags. There is something you need to try. It's called a 'shower'."
He grumbled as he stood up, looking mournfully at the sofa as if he were leaving a lover. He walked into the bathroom, looking at the porcelain fixtures as if they were alien artifacts from a fallen civilization.