The Dawn of Humanity (1)

Time continued to flow onward. It seemed the dragons were determined not to repeat their past mistakes, getting along as amicably as possible with one another. They even began early moral education for the existing hatchlings and those freshly hatched from eggs, drilling into them that dragons must never fight among themselves. Of course, they were only doing this because they remembered how furious I'd get if the same problems cropped up again. But if fear could serve as a deterrent, I was more than happy to play the villain.

The Lizardmen visited me once a year to offer flowers and hold their own festivals, creating an atmosphere of warm harmony. Their punctuality was honestly pretty adorable. The spirits, having ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lost their physical forms and scattered to the winds, now lived like carefree children, having forgotten what they once were. It was a heartbreaking end for dragons who had once dominated an era.

Besides that... as time passed and the seven children reverted to natural phenomena, I met each of the six excluding Erebos once. Unlike him, they had accepted their mistakes. Not that I had any intention of returning their scales, of course. If Erebos ever showed up, maybe I'd reconsider. Oh, right—there was one issue that cropped up.

The dinosaurs went extinct in the end. Their numbers had plummeted during the dragon wars, and after the dragons vanished, they were pushed out by wyverns, drakes, sea serpents, and the like until their population couldn't sustain itself anymore... Eventually, they vanished from everywhere within my sight. Some descendants survived in forms no longer worthy of being called dinosaurs—birds and various reptiles, for instance. They might still exist in places beyond my gaze, but for all intents and purposes, they were gone from the land's surface. Safe to call it extinction, then.

Hmm. It was terribly sad, but unavoidable. It wasn't that dinosaurs were bad or anything. It was simply time to usher in the age of mammals.

Ah, well, the Lizardmen were surviving thanks to their intelligence... but with only a scant few dragons left as the world's former masters faded away, it was about time for humans to make their appearance. Time to pass the baton of the era!

Though the mammals were still just a bit bigger than mice, so they had a long way to go!

Time flew by. I singled out the most mature dragon among them—the one the others looked up to—and saddled her with the role of leader of the dragons, the Dragon Lord. I outsourced management to her. She handled overall dragon oversight, egg hatching, communal child-rearing, and the like. I'd especially emphasized care for hatching eggs and raising the young, so she'd manage just fine.

Even if their scale colors differed, if they hatched and grew up together, they'd never resort to bloody wars against each other. Though, in the process, dragons of different scale colors did occasionally pair off after catching each other's eye. Hmm... not a big deal. Hybrids between differently colored dragons didn't end up with mixed scales, it seemed. They just inherited one parent's color. No issues there.

The overall natural environment was being adequately maintained by the children who had reverted to natural phenomena and the spirits. The lesser spirits might have forgotten their own origins, but they still remembered their parents—or perhaps instinctively felt familiar with their presence—and faithfully followed their directives. Thanks to that, these small spirits roamed the world at their parents' behest, adding more vibrancy to it all. An unexpected boon.

And the Lizardmen, the only intelligent beings besides dragons, had grown quite numerous by now. The farming techniques I'd idly taught them as a pastime had taken off better than expected, and their population was steadily climbing. I'd tweaked a plant resembling corn and handed it over, and they took to agriculture like pros. I'd even sourced bean-like plants to conserve their mental energy. After a few harvests, they were rotating corn and beans on their own—quite impressive.

As for the long-awaited mammals...

"Eek! Squeak!"

They'd become monkeys. Well, obviously! But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn't their evolution a bit slow?! I get that more complex creatures evolve slower, but still!!!

The silver lining was that intelligence was starting to bud among these monkey-like mammals; they were gripping branches and using them as tools. Hmm. That's pretty positive. Tool use should develop their forepaws... hands. They might evolve quickly after all.

One worry was whether the Lizardmen might hunt these mammals. But that concern resolved itself thanks to their completely different habitats. Lizardmen, being cold-blooded, were heavily influenced by their environment. Dinosaurs had minimized external impacts with their massive sizes, but Lizardmen couldn't. Places unsuitable in temperature or humidity were unlivable for them.

Hmm. That's why Lizardmen couldn't spread across the world, despite their physical strength.

Oh, by the way, I'd instructed them to stop holding ceremonies at the Genesis Dragon's site. I occasionally went into hibernation and left, so if they came during those times, they'd be disappointed. Plus, with spirits altering the environment, they'd relocated their bases ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠anyway, making visits burdensome. I'd just accept their heartfelt intentions instead. Heartfelt intentions only.

In exchange, though, I taught the Lizardmen a bit of knowledge. Nothing grand—just the ability to commune with spirits, something other creatures besides dragons couldn't even perceive. Lizardmen had little magical talent, but they excelled at interacting with nature. Or maybe it was their shared dinosaur roots with dragons. Either way, they even developed shamanism, borrowing spirits' power. Quite positive, right?

Ah, but Lizardmen aren't the main point.

"Squeak! Squeek!!"

I watched the monkeys from afar. They picked fruits from trees, played pranks on each other. How much time would it take for these guys to build a civilization? It felt like it'd be a while.

"Mom. Staring at those furry monkeys again?"

"Yeah. Never gets old."

Every action felt like watching slapstick comedy. Their half-baked intelligence made it even funnier.

"Dragons were smarter..."

"And that's why they waged war, right?"

"......"

Sylphid fell silent. Guilty conscience and all—she had no comeback.

"Still no sign of Erebos?"

"Nope. The others are moping quietly in their spots... but even his original cave is empty. Where'd he go...?"

A twinge of worry crept in. What mischief might that cunning child get up to? Endlessly concerning.

I fast-forwarded time a bit to observe the monkeys' changes. They evolved in all sorts of directions—some like gorillas, others like chimps. Evolution has no direction, sure, but this was total chaos. And it wasn't just monkeys; other creatures underwent the same.

"Kyaoong!!!"

"Quiet, you rascal."

I grabbed the head of a tiger-like beast charging at me. Saber-tooth tiger, was it? Fangs ridiculously long. Mammals surely started from mouse-like critters—how'd they evolve so drastically? I'd accelerated mutations and evolution, but this seemed excessive. Maybe dial it back once things stabilized.

"Kyaaaaooong!!!"

The saber-tooth gnawed futilely at my arm. Look at this guy. Not even ticklish. I gripped its scruff and tossed it lightly. It flew off with a "Kyaaaaaaaang!!!!" yelp. Cats land on their feet from heights, so it should be fine. Right?

Hmm. Anyway... when would humans show up? Watching animals evolve wildly everywhere was entertaining, but the truly important ones weren't appearing. Felt just like gacha—never pulling the character you want. Bears, horned horse-like things, cows, elephants emerging, and all.

Some monkeys, too big for trees now, started ground-dwelling and evolved into primitive human forms. Hmm. Finally, the dawn of primitive humans? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I'd waited ages—here they were!

Wait—monkeys resembling humans were appearing elsewhere too? At least three spots I'd spotted... and probably more I hadn't. Well, more's better. More diversity.

Human-like monkeys scattered from the forests, spreading everywhere. What changes would follow in their wake? I harbored a small expectation as I began watching the world.

Though many subraces vehemently deny it, it's an undeniable fact that all subraces originate from humans. Excluding dragons and Lizardmen, who have clear evidence of pre-existing before humans, every other subrace stems from them. Primitive humans adapted to various environments, branching into the myriad subraces.

Those who headed to the world tree's forest became elves' ancestors; those to the world's highest mountain, dwarves'. Only pure humans retained their form among the countless subraces!

Thus! Humans must rule this world! Humans alone, excluding all other subraces!!!