The Dawn of Civilization
“Groooar....”
“Uwaaa...”
A colossal bear, roughly four meters tall, launched its assault. Over half the elves had already perished, leaving just around four hundred survivors who trembled uncontrollably, too terrified even to mount a proper defense against the beast. Like the others, they hurled stones and swung branches scavenged from the ground—they tried everything—but the giant bear didn't so much as flinch.
Where the massive tiger had dominated with its superior agility, this bear was a brute of raw strength and defense. Slow and ponderous as it was, it could've been hunted by dragging out the fight and chipping away at its stamina. But these elves had suffered setback after setback from the start, losing over five hundred in no time flat. They weren't even thinking about resistance, let alone escape.
This group's on the brink of total wipeout. Guess I have no choice. One-time bailout?
But if I just make the bear vanish, they won't get it. Might as well teach 'em to fish instead of handing over the catch. Possess one of the elves and whip up some weapons? Nah... suddenly fast-tracking just this bunch feels off. Better to zap it with lightning and turn it into roast bear on a stick.
These primitives don't even know what fish are—making them fishing rods would be pointless anyway.
Rumble—
I conjured massive clouds overhead. Lightning from a clear sky would've looked too unnatural.
“Groooaaar!”
“Aaaah!”
“Uwaaaah...!”
The instant the giant bear charged the elves—
Flash!
Kaboom!!
A bolt from the heavens slammed straight into the bear. Sizzle... It collapsed, charred to crispy perfection like overcooked electrocuted meat.
“......”
“......”
Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—the surrounding trees caught fire too.
Hey, helping's great, but now the whole forest might go up in flames.
Some groups have already discovered fire naturally anyway. The difference is they think it came from lightning. Still, I used the bolt partly to introduce it intentionally.
So, rain it down just enough to keep the blaze from spreading... and leave a bit to show them what fire is.
“...Ooh.”
“??”
The elves who discovered fire. They didn't know what it was exactly, but they seemed to grasp it spawned from the lightning that one-shotted the bear. They approached it with extreme caution bordering on terror.
Well... it's hot and dangerous for real. Better than curiosity leading to burns.
Thanks to their inherently high intelligence, they quickly grew accustomed to fire's existence and started pondering its uses. Maybe because it rose from the lightning strike, they figured it held the same power—something to wield against beasts.
How to make more fire? That was for them to figure out later.
Oh, looks like they're digging a pit to preserve the precious embers for now. They just saw it die in water, so keeping it dry makes sense. And since it spread to the trees, they're feeding it dry wood to build it up.
Damn... high-IQ species lives up to the hype. Learn one thing, grasp two or three.
Yeah, their spawn point sucked balls, but these elves have serious potential.
...But that wasn't the end of it.
Poisonous insect swarms, beast attacks, rotting corpses breeding plague... nothing left this poor elf group alone.
Fuck, what a garbage spawn point. It's like the game's rigged for extinction.
I subtly intervened to fend off every threat, and eventually, even they noticed something was off.
“Ooooh...”
“Ooooh...”
These guys suddenly prostrated themselves before the first fire pit. Like they were worshipping it!
They even dragged over dead poison bugs, beast claws, miracle plants that stopped the plague—every scrap of evidence I'd helped them—and arranged it like an altar.
...Did these fuckers skip language and jump straight to worship? Figuring out gods before words?
Hmm, did I overdo the aid? Helped once, got hooked 'cause it was easy...
But they'd all be dead without it! Fine, whatever. I'm basically their creator god, and yeah, I did help... but being worshipped for real feels weird as hell.
Still, the roughly three hundred elves—who'd lost all will to fight or flee—regained their spark through worshipping me. They snapped awake, hunting beasts and foraging fruits and plants like mad.
Mostly to offer me tribute, sure, but hell, at least they had the drive to survive now. How fortunate.
With major threats gone, I could mostly hands-off this bunch. They might turn into a full-on religion cult, so occasional nudges to remind them of the divine could work.
Enter some standout genius elves. Saved from doom out of pity, now constant worshippers, proto-religious order... Heh, these elf tribes are getting fun to watch grow.
Variety in their development will be a blast.
Galactic Union time: about two years.
Elf planet time: half a year.
Yujin was hanging out in the Meias tribal planetary cluster, dealing with various stuff. He'd nearly mastered advanced magic, with tournaments and summons from Meias elders in between... but that's a story for later.
For now, let's talk elf planet.
Half a year on the elf world brought massive changes. That's over seven hundred days at twenty-four-hour cycles.
The elves rocketed forward. Sky-high IQ plus abundant resources fueled their boom.
Smarter tribes—led by particularly sharp elves—solidified language systems and self-made rules, kicking off proper village life.
“Announcing new rules. Memorize and obey.”
“More rules?”
“Mm, but the leader's rules matter.”
By the way, I can understand their made-up languages crystal clear—even across tribes. Instant full acquisition on sight.
Gotta know what they're saying, right?
Anyway, villages now had moats, fences. Huts from wood, stone, straw everywhere.
Spawned as twenty-year-old adults, breeding was underway—pregnancies popping up. Stable settlements meant real population growth was imminent.
No farming or livestock yet, but plenty of wild food kept hunter-gatherer life smooth.
Some hunted, some guarded, some cooked and handled chores. Roles divided, rotations set.
Top performers skipped rotations for fixed specialist gigs.
Names too. The female elf leader who'd trapped and stoned that giant tiger? 'Rasl'—wisdom in their tongue. Perfect fit.
Golden straight hair gleaming in sunlight, emerald eyes. Stunning even among elves.
Those eyes held real depth, the aura of profound wisdom.
Centered on her, nine hundred elves built their village diligently.
Rasl's smarts shone: knowing centralized power bred dictatorship gripes, she elected officials for big decisions. A council, basically.
Reminded me of the Galactic Union's elder assembly.
Ten elders, fairly voted in, handled rules and major calls. To check tyranny, revote every five hundred nights.
Time and calendars still fuzzy... but they'd sort it eventually.
Language, stable village, council. Even popular elections for all. Insane progress in just over seven hundred days.
...Oh, and the proto-religion crew?
“Ooooh! O God, we offer this sacrifice to your greatness!”
“O God, save us.”
“O God, save us.”
...Ritual beast sacrifice time.
Sigh... fine, at least they invented language. For worshipping me.
Carved a statue too—six-armed elf? What the hell did they imagine?
...Guess it's their creative take. Never showed my form.
Altar around it, fire lit, fresh boar offered. Screaming for salvation like lunatics.
Fuck, looks like a deranged cult! If you're starting a religion, make it neat at least!