Terra Year 768, June 23, noon.
As the bells of the central church chimed, another delicate rain began to fall, filling the space between heaven and earth with rain threads as soft as fine velvet.
The radiance of the sun did not diminish in the slightest; the rain clouds parted, creating cracks through which beams of light, sharp as sword steps, cascaded upon the land and sea, interweaving and reflecting off each other.
In a standalone stone house along the coastal street, a white-haired little boy crouched in a corner of the courtyard, eagerly watching the ants.
The boy was about three or four years old, with soft, white shoulder-length hair and purple eyes fixed on the insects crawling on the ground. His mouth curved into a happy smile.
The tips of the boy’s ears were slightly pointed, a trait of the elves, but if one had to be precise, he was in some sense a pure-blooded member of the White Folks.
On the Terra Continent, there is a plethora of races. The Chalk People, the Crimson Sand People, the Gold People, the Black Iron People, Elves, Dwarves, Descendants of the Sea, and Demihumans, the Halflings and the Insect Folk... To list them all, including each large race’s branches, would be enough to fill a book.
However, no matter who, whether Beastmen or Elves, Insect Folk or Gold People, all races could intermarry and produce offspring that could reproduce normally.
Yet, children of different racial heritage could not give birth to true mixed-bloods, only pure-bloods bearing some traits of the other race.
Even so, there were peculiar cases where Demihumans and Iron Folk married and gave birth to twins, with the older brother sporting beast ears and the younger being of the Iron Folk.
According to scholar studies, the ancestors of the races can even be traced back to almost the same group of progenitors, those initial ancestors known as ’Proto-humans’ are the common forebears of all Terra races, and even the previous epoch’s civilizations.
The boy focused intently on observing the ants, seemingly oblivious to the light rain outside.
The grass ants of the Bison Mountain Range were smaller than the average land ant, measuring less than one centimeter in length. They generally wouldn’t appear in cities because there was no decomposing leaf soil for them to ’cultivate’ within human cities.
Feeding on fungi, the rotting leaves of plants were their natural farmland. It is said that in some underground of deep forests and old woods, there exist massive ant cities, where extremely rare Spirit Mushrooms exist, valued far more than royal jelly and considered the best nourishment.
But even so, occasionally, grass ant colonies would appear within cities—perhaps the edge of a huge grass ant city had spread to this area, or maybe a group of immigrant ants had decided to develop their home here. Regardless, this was a grand story stirring enough to reverberate through one’s heart, a legendary epic.
It’s just that ordinary people wouldn’t notice, nor would they care to see. The adults are always contemplating things too grand and ethereal, while children find joy in seeking out these tiny pleasures.
"Ants, hardworking, cute,"
muttered the boy softly, not attempting to touch the grass ants. It wasn’t because his brother had instructed him not to; he simply did not wish to disturb the lives of these small creatures.
Thus, in the drizzling rain, the boy quietly watched the ants transport leaves and trimmings of weeds into a nearby hole.
Amidst the interplay of clouds and light, slow footsteps sounded, then paused.
Dum, dum, dum.
A silhouette stood by the courtyard, the sound of iron boots clashing with the stone path ceased as a man watched the child with interest.
The man was draped in a black full-body armor decked with golden-red trims along the edges. The brilliant Sun’s Eye was engraved on both shoulders, and he held his similarly emblemed helmet in his arms, revealing a handsome face.
With his pure black hair resembling seaweed, the somewhat languid man squinted at the boy, who in turn was absorbed in watching the ants.
"Child,"
after a while, confirming that the child was truly engrossed in watching the ants and had not noticed his arrival, the man squatted down and said across the wood rail that looked no different from the rest, "Are you watching the ants?"
"Mhm mhm,"
realizing someone was talking to him, the boy with purple eyes responded with a big smile, happily saying, "Ants, very responsible! Admire, cute!"
"...Is that so?"
Noting the child’s unique way of speaking, the man lowered his gaze, thoughtfully saying, "But the ants’ every action is at the queen’s command. Rather than say they are responsible, it might be more accurate to say they are blindly loyal."
"Toiling all day without their own thoughts or dreams, aimlessly existing just for the queen and the colony’s continuation—is that truly cute?"
The boy clearly did not fully understand the question, but after thinking for a bit, he still replied earnestly, "Loyalty, also cute!"
"And..."
Looking towards the ants, he smiled faintly, "Ants don’t have, I have!"
"Haha, what are you comparing with ants?"
The man laughed unwittingly, "Really... You’re so small, what do you know about thoughts and dreams?"
He wasn’t mocking, but rather like someone thoroughly bored, he simply sat down cross-legged in the rain and asked patiently, "So what is your dream?"
He had only intended to enjoy the child’s perplexed or unclear speech, yet unexpectedly, the boy seriously pondered before answering.
"To stop, stuttering,"
The boy’s pointed ears trembled slightly as he looked serious, counting on his fingers one by one, "Learn, math."
"Help, brother."
"When I grow up, take care of, uncle."
"Become, someone important!"
"Seems like, that’s all... Oh right! There’s more! Brother said once..."
The man started off just wanting to have some fun but his expression turned increasingly serious; the boy, however, continued happily counting on his fingers, "Make the South Ridge, peaceful!"
"Visit different places, see the stars!"
"Everyone together, eat lots, lots of meat!"
"Build a, flying, huge ship!"
Several times, the man wanted to say ’enough’—he already understood that although the child might have a slight stutter, he was very intelligent. Even if he didn’t understand fully, being able to express so many concepts was enough proof of the child’s cognitive abilities, far from being an ignorant youngster.
Yet he remained silent, listening to the cheerful child as he counted to ten, "Lastly! The last one!"