Seeds of Empire: The Dawn of Agriculture
Con Arche, from an agrarian society, had already made it this far? That meant quite some time had passed even after Yujin won. Ah, shit... I got so hooked on the civilization-building sim that I forgot to watch the drama. I could watch both at once, but doing them together somehow felt like a waste...
Since I'm eternal anyway, there's a certain pleasure in savoring them one by one, slowly unpacking them later. But wait, thinking about it, both are progressing in real-time, so putting them on hold doesn't really change anything? Hmm... For now, the elves seem on the cusp of kicking off the agricultural era, so I'll focus here first. Once things stabilize and I get bored, I can binge Yujin's story. Yeah, there's still seven years left until the clash with the Galactic Union that I watched before. No signs of expanding the Meias planetary group's story yet, so I'll shelf that for now. I saw up to the part where, after winning, he got summoned by the Meias elders, earned their recognition, and started learning magic. From here on, it's probably another boring stretch of grinding upper-level and supreme-level spells.
"Just to be safe, let's get out of here. We can find another massive black hole elsewhere."
Con Arche seemed spooked by the fear aura from our encounter earlier and hurriedly pulled away from that spot. Good thing—he planned to only write about it in his book and not report it to the Galactic Union. That book wouldn't even publish for a while, so no worries about the Union or anyone else suddenly showing up anytime soon.
Alright, then. Time to keep watching the elves without interruptions?
"Judging by their armament, they look pretty strong."
Unaskula, the leader of the highland village, took interest in the weapons carried by the scouts from Mu-wan's village. Like Rasl's village or other smart settlements, they were armed with sharply honed stone spears, slings, and primitive bows optimized for combat. Living in vast forested plains probably meant frequent beast attacks, accelerating their weapon development.
In contrast, the highland village faced fewer external threats, so they still relied on simple stone-throwing or crudely made blunt spears. Weapons weren't unimportant to them—just lower priority than food. Food shortages demanded more focus, but that's where Unaskula had a bright idea.
"Let's get on good terms with them. We can learn their weapons and techniques."
"Getting on good terms" was basically their way of saying they'd exchange with the other village. In return, they'd offer highland-exclusive plants or teach farming methods. Primitive as they were, they figured it'd still help.
Hmm, not sure if that's such a great idea. Geographically, technologically, or by village size, Mu-wan's group held the clear upper hand. From Mu-wan's perspective, there was zero reason to trade or cooperate. Highland herbs or plants were close enough to harvest themselves anyway. If Mu-wan wanted, they could overrun the highlands and monopolize those resources entirely.
And their "farming method"? Just sticking seeds in the ground—primitive as hell. Nothing worth teaching. Downstream in the fertile riverlands, Mu-wan's village could plant the same seeds and watch them thrive effortlessly. Once they realized that, the highlanders would become even more irrelevant.
Hmm... This could backfire big time. Even with the elves' strong bonds, Mu-wan was sharp and cautious enough to distrust even instinctual unity. Given his personality, he'd probably skip cooperation and just absorb the highland village to expand his territory.
Whoa~ Kicking off the agricultural era with territorial expansion and village growth. And now that he knows other elf groups exist nearby, Mu-wan won't stop here. He'll dominate wider lands and extend his influence. I set my elves with sky-high curiosity and drive for progress alongside their unity, after all. Now I'm even more curious how this plays out. The first "nation"-sized group might emerge from southern Mu-wan.
While the southern hemisphere geared up for seismic changes, big shifts brewed in the northern Rasl's village too.
"Winter outings drain our workforce, and yields are low, right? That's the problem."
"You could say that."
"Then why not source food right here in the village?"
"Food... inside the village?"
Oh ho, they'd finally hit on farming too. But will it work? Late autumn was fading into winter—mid-October if we split the year into twelve months. Edibles from the surrounding forest that could grow in time for winter were limited. These three-year-olds (not even a full year in their terms) wouldn't have that knowledge anyway. I'd figured they'd chalk this winter up to trial and error.
...Or so I thought, but Rasl proved wiser than expected.
"Stock up on whatever we can gather now. Come Arrow, we can store them without spoiling outdoors in cool, shaded spots. And focus on the foods that got us through last Arrow—let's try growing those."
Right. They'd already survived one winter—their first, right after birth. They remembered those sustaining foods: potato-like tubers that fed 990 elves, bellflower-esque roots, cold-hardy leafy greens like lettuce.
Greenhouses would make it easier, but these resilient plants thrived in tough soil anyway. Elf planet winters never dropped below freezing, hovering around 5°C average. Proximity to the river meant soft, moist soil. Basically a natural winter greenhouse.
I'd underestimated the perfect conditions and Rasl's memory and adaptability. Damn... True to form for my elves. Way ahead of even the Rubaran history. Took them five years to hit agrarian society, I think.
After that, Rasl and the villagers gathered seeds and roots from potato-like and lettuce-like plants, planting them in every empty village plot. Rasl named the potato analog Lu-moru—"earth's blessing"—and the lettuce one Ari-moru—"forest's blessing."
Already forest-adapted, Lu-moru and Ari-moru exploded in growth near the richer river soil. About a month later—full winter now—the first harvest came: long, slightly withered potatoes and limp lettuces. Rough-looking, sure, but legit farm crops.
Not true potatoes—wild roots swollen big with that gritty dirt taste. I could've made them delicious from the start, but that might stunt future selective breeding and scientific progress. Kept 'em wild on purpose.
"Success!"
"Kahaha~! Thriving even through Arrow. No more venturing out except for meat hunts."
"Yeah! Haha!"
Winter food woes solved easier than expected. But Rasl wasn't done, lost in thought.
"Hmm, except for meat hunts..."
Obvious what he was pondering. They'd grasped farming—primitive, no plowing or fertilizer, just dig and plant. But now they knew they could grow their own surplus. Next up? Livestock.
Meat, labor, even hunting aides. Massive industry leap. Dogs boosted hunts, cattle farming, chickens and pigs meat supply. But inviting non-elf life into the village? Tough. Taming's hard, and it demands food surplus.
Rasl knew this well. That's why livestock crossed his mind.
Post-Arrow warmth means trying other plants beyond Lu-moru and Ari-moru. If that works, food overflows. No need to go out.
But meat requires outings—hunting, fishing. What if solved internally? Capture edible beasts, pen them, feed with excess crops?
Meat without hunting. Breed them for infinite supply.
With that, Rasl set his next goal: capturing beasts for village pens. For now, just in his head—winter made it impractical. Probably wait till spring, test more crops, confirm surplus, then go.
Damn, Rasl nailing agriculture and husbandry first. Thought Mu-wan might lead, but this side claims agrarian primacy? Desperation sharpens the mind, huh. Difference between bountiful summer and harsh winter scarcity.