The village of Taewe was nestled in a rugged valley, a small pocket of resilience carved out of the vast, untad wilderness.
Its buildings were sturdy but simple, crafted from the dark timber of the surrounding forest and reinforced with river stones.
Here lived the porcine folk—a hardy, pig-faced race known for their imnse physical strength and a stubborn pride that was as unyielding as the mountains themselves.
By the river that fed the village, a young pigman nad Bolg swirled the water with his hand, his brow furrowed in concentration as he looked at the system panel only he could see.
"Father," he began, turning to the large, muscular figure beside him, "shouldn’t we build sothing like a purifier? Look at this purifier from the system."
His father, a seasoned warrior with scars crisscrossing his thick forearms, took a long, noisy gulp of water straight from the river. He let out a satisfied grunt, wiping his snout with the back of his hand.
"Purifier?" he scoffed, his voice a deep rumble of amusent. "Are you questioning our immune system, boy? The stomachs of our people can digest rocks. A little mud in the water just adds flavor." He flexed a bicep, a proud gesture of his race’s inherent power.
"I was just saying... it looks cool," Bolg mumbled, his deep-set eyes filled with a child’s unwavering curiosity.
The father’s expression softened. He sighed, the sound heavy with a truth he rarely spoke aloud. "It sure does, son. But who knows how to build it? The blueprints cost cosmic coins, and coins are sothing our village doesn’t have." He hoisted the young boy onto his broad shoulders, his earlier pride replaced by a quiet resignation. "Co, let’s head back."
As they entered the village, Bolg wriggled free and ran towards a group of children gleefully playing in a large mud puddle. Their laughter filled the air, a simple, joyous sound in the otherwise quiet village.
"Bolg! Did you know?" another young pigman shouted, his face spattered with mud. "In the capital, there are flying ships so massive they could carry our entire village!"
Bolg’s eyes shimred with a familiar, ambitious light. "I know!" he boasted to his friends. "And one day, I’m going to build an airship even bigger than that!"
"Then I’ll be the pilot!" his friend declared, waving his arms like a soaring ship. "Zuuuuu! Zuuuu!"
The elders of the village, sitting by a communal fire, watched the children’s ga with fond, weary smiles. "Listen to them," one elder sighed, his gaze distant. "They dream of the sa things we once did."
"What a pity we are trapped here," another added, poking the fire with a stick. "We can’t afford to live in the capital, and we can’t do any real business here. The Tiger Clan controls the entire trade route"
The discussion continued, a familiar lant that offered no solutions, only a shared sense of helplessness. But their conversation was abruptly cut short by a sound that made every head in the village snap towards the sky.
It was the cry of a bird, but it was no ordinary call. It was a piercing, powerful shriek that echoed off the mountains, a sound that spoke of a creature of imnse size and power—an A-Grade, perhaps even an S-Grade monster.
Panic erupted. Villagers scrambled for their hos, their faces pale with fear. A group of elders rushed towards the largest hut in the village, their fists hamring on the thick wooden door. "Chief! Chief, wake up! A monster bird is about to attack!"
The door flew open with a resounding crash. A hulking, giant pigman stood frad in the doorway, a simple towel wrapped around his waist. The thick scent of alcohol wafted from inside the hut. "Who gave you the courage to shout at my door?" the chief, Gulata, bellowed, his face flushed with a mixture of drink and anger.
"Chief Gulata, a monster bird!" an elder stamred, pointing a trembling finger towards the horizon.
Gulata squinted in the direction the elder was pointing. A vibrant, multi-colored bird was descending from the sky, its size was twice the size of them.
In an instant, the drunken haze in his eyes vanished, replaced by the sharp, lethal focus of a warrior. The lazy, intoxicated aura around him solidified into the oppressive pressure of a mighty S-Grade powerhouse. He charged towards the village entrance, his fists clenched, ready for battle.
The bird, unlike the savage beasts he was used to, landed with a surprising quietness. A figure, slender and graceful, leaped from its back. The half-elf patted the magnificent creature’s neck before turning his gaze to the village.
"Finally reached," Light said to himself, his body aching from the long, two-day journey. He could have arrived in one, but the untad beauty of the wilderness and the strange monsters he encountered along the way had been too captivating to ignore.
"Who are you?" Gulata’s voice was a low growl, his massive fra blocking the entrance to the village. He sized up the half-elf, his senses screaming that this newcor was just as powerful as he was. An old saying echoed in his mind: two swords can’t share one sheath. This village, this territory, was his.
"I am just a passerby," Light said, offering a calm and friendly greeting to the tense villagers who peeked from behind their hos. "I have traveled far. Might I trouble you for a place to rest for a ti?"
Gulata’s eyes narrowed. "No," he said, his stance clear and uncompromising. "Outsiders aren’t allowed in our village. Especially not soone from another race." His voice was laced with a deep, instinctual threat. This half-elf was a variable he didn’t want, a power he couldn’t control.
"That’s alright," Light replied, his tone still humble and without a hint of offense. He was here as a teacher, a guide. He had to be a man of peace, not the murderous Aerion from his past life.
With a polite nod, Light turned and walked about a kiloter away from the village. He stopped in a small clearing and, to the astonishnt of the watching pign, took a small, intricately carved wooden cube from one of his space rings.
He placed it on the ground, and with a soft whisper of mana, the cube began to expand and unfold, transforming seamlessly into a small but elegant wooden house, complete with a door, windows, and a smoking chimney.
"Ho sweet ho," Light sighed as he stepped inside and lay down on the comfortable bed within. The simple pleasure of a soft mattress was a luxury he had missed for two days. He closed his eyes, his mind already formulating a plan.
"The elders and the chief are too proud and suspicious," he thought, a wave of exhaustion finally washing over him. "I’ll have to start with the children. Their hearts and minds are easier to win over." With that final, strategic thought, he drifted into a deep and peaceful sleep.
Reviews
All reviews (0)