Village Merger
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Muwan."
Oh, finally these guys have met! A few days after the scouts from Muwan Village returned having been treated well, Muwan and Unaskula finally came face-to-face. Muwan had personally led his armed elves up the high ground to Unaskula's village.
From my perspective, their "arms" were pretty rudimentary—crude wooden shields, primitive bows with short range, spears fashioned from sharpened stones. But to the people of Unaskula's highland village, it was cutting-edge weaponry they didn't possess. Imagine an old army that's just invented gunpowder and is thrilled about their muskets, then seeing machine guns and mortars roll in. If they had no idea what it was, they might not be scared—but because they've advanced just enough, they know exactly how terrifying it is.
So Unaskula and his villagers were thoroughly intimidated. That was exactly what Muwan was aiming for. Someone had tipped him off about the high ground settlement, and this was psychological pressure to naturally turn it into a vassal state. His greeting played into it too. Visiting a village that spoke a different language, with scouts who'd even learned their tongue—he surely knew their speech. Yet he greeted them boldly in his own village's language, as if Unaskula ought to use theirs.
Damn... this guy's a total overlord. A real warlord. If he keeps developing this fast, starting with the highland village and absorbing other nearby elf groups, he could crown himself king of the southern hemisphere.
"Ah, um... pleased... to meet you."
Unaskula caught the intent. Only a fool wouldn't notice such a blatant power play. But he was overwhelmed. Weapons made from stone and wood that they lacked. Warriors from Muwan Village, battle-hardened from constant fights with outsiders. Elves don't attack fellow elves—that's instinct. But a deeper instinct, the survival drive of any living being, was screaming a warning: Resist and you're in danger. An elf brazenly flashing these arms to seize control might crush them by force if displeased.
If I were in his shoes, I'd do the same. We're weak, so we have no choice but to grovel. At least our farming skills and labor make us useful—they won't kill or persecute us, we hope.
So for his village and his own life, Unaskula yielded dominance. By replying in Muwan's language.
Muwan smiled in satisfaction and said to him, "Then shall we discuss the future of our villages?"
"...Very well."
The future of the village. Unaskula just hoped they wouldn't be treated too shabbily. They were fellow elves, after all—no way they'd be enslaved. Though these guys probably didn't even know what slaves were. Did they even have social classes? Muwan was the chief, and the rest subordinates—some invisible hierarchy, maybe. This could be the birth of the first class system here. But it'd probably just be Muwan Village elves as high commoners, highland elves as low ones. Their racial bond would keep it from descending to slavery.
"This place is small, and the population's sparse."
"Well... it's the highlands, and food's scarce... but that's about to change."
As the leaders talked, Unaskula mentioned farming. Muwan, already briefed by Yeonhu and Jigang, nodded knowingly.
"Planting seeds, right? But that's no easy feat in the mountains."
"Heh... we're working on methods. Enough to feed everyone here, at least."
And Muwan drove the wedge home: "Our lands are blessed by the river— incredibly fertile. Unlike these mountains."
"......"
A declaration that they even outpaced them in farming. Whoa... coming in strong. Arms, population, now agriculture. The highland village had no edge.
"Relocating the village would be ideal. Downriver, like us."
Unaskula couldn't respond, of course. The river lowlands teemed with dangerous beasts. The highlands saw occasional raids, but nothing like those fertile plains. With their arms and numbers, they couldn't build and hold a village there from scratch. Muwan knew it too. They belonged here—at least until they could mimic those weapons and upgrade.
Primitive enough to copy, thankfully. But Muwan wanted more. He was saying: Abandon this and join us. Boost population, expand territory. Farming made food plentiful now.
This guy's aggressive. He reeks of conqueror vibes. The southern hemisphere's about to get brutal.
"...W-we lack the strength."
"Heh, shall we help? Or some of you could come to our village! Planting needs vast land and labor. Join us, and we expand while making it easier. You've got experience."
Outright now. Join us. Leave some behind, "protect" with a few soldiers for surveillance, then absorb naturally via labor and expansion.
Unaskula saw through it, but once their village was exposed, options were nil. Muwan was an elf who'd trample others if needed, bonds be damned.
"...W-we'll help with planting."
"Hahaha, we'd be grateful."
Unaskula submitted, and Muwan grinned triumphantly. Thus, the elves' first "merger" was sealed.
Meanwhile, something was brewing for Yujin too.
Tournament champion Yujin was now the most famous figure in the Meias planetary forces. Partly for his stellar magic, but mostly the rumor he was Terra race, not Meias.
"How can a Terra cast magic that well?"
"Yupiter Elder's second disciple, right? Must've given him some insane power."
"Nah... there's innate mana affinity."
Ignoring the buzz, Yujin went to the elders who'd snubbed him before, demanding magic lessons. Tournament winners earned training from elders or top mages—no excuses now.
Hmm... did I overbuff him? Who'd have thought three years of training would win the magic tournament. Stronger than most elder disciples already. Devouring advanced spells at a scary pace— a few more years, and he'll match elders. I thought extreme munchkin was too much, but he's already there. And in ten years? With top serums and nano-gear, he'd crush a Rubaran elder. Those are near-top among sapients, barring giant monsters. No wonder Ubo Satula covets him.
Anyway, as Yujin trained diligently, fun trouble hit.
"Cocky Terra bastard."
"Don't know your trick, but it won't work this time."
Elder disciples swarmed, surrounding him. Rowi Hendrick wasn't among them—he knew Yujin's outer god avatar status and treated him with respect.
Many were tournament losers Yujin had trounced. These idiots, beaten fair in magic, now cried "cheat."
Couldn't admit losing to a "pathetic Terra," so ridiculous conspiracy it was.
"Elders are just teaching you by tournament rules. No interest in trash like you."
"Yeah, half-ass it then kill you later?"
...Can't deny that. Some elders did disdain him as Terra. Three of five—majority. Excluding Yupiter, it was most. They'd planned to half-teach then ditch him. Some even eyed murder to protect "great Meias spells."
But Yujin? My avatar. He'd anticipated it, countermeasures ready.