Dawn of Humanity (7)
“That’s…?”
The leader’s gaze was fixed on the crown in my hand. A dazzling silver crown. It was no ordinary item at first glance, so it was only natural.
I hooked my finger through the crafted crown, spinning it around before tossing it up and catching it again. The crown and the leader’s eyes mirrored each other’s movements—it was kinda funny.
“Do you want this?”
“Yes…!”
The leader didn’t hide his greed as he stared at the crown. Honest desire. Even after learning language and forming a primitive society, that greed was still beast-like in its frankness. Well, I made it to give away anyway, so no big deal.
Pure silver… actually, looking closer now, it had transformed under mana. Anyway, for humans living in the Stone Age, this metal crown would be like an out-of-place artifact, something beyond comprehension. Of course he’d covet it. That made it all the more valuable.
“Fine. I’ll give you this crown.”
“Really?”
“But there’s a condition.”
I let a faint smile play on my lips as I spoke.
“Lead the humans well from now on. That’s the condition.”
Humans were still few in number, so I could intervene, but once they multiplied, I couldn’t watch over every single one. If I entrusted the leader—who’d take my place in caring for them—to do it, he’d handle things on his own, right? Like how I dumped all the dragon responsibilities on the Dragon Lord.
“That’s all?”
“‘That’s all’? Do you know how hard that is?”
Even the dragons who inherited my scales ignore me to the death—humans won’t be any different. Strong egos make them lousy listeners; it’s a headache.
Hmm. Oh, right.
I could enchant the crown with magic to help him rule the others. Nothing too grand. Something modest… minor effects shouldn’t cause issues. Like a charm boost? Not dramatic, just making people view the wearer more positively, with a bit of fondness. Add disease immunity and poison resistance to prevent early death… and while I’m at it, life force boost? If it works right, it might extend lifespan a little…
Mana extended from my hand, infusing the crown and granting the spells.
A weak enchantment to subtly captivate minds. Magic to fully ward off poison and disease… oh, congenital diseases are out of luck. It records the base state and reverts to it if disease or poison is detected. Congenital ones are the base state, so no fixing that. Treating it might even revert back to diseased. Eh, unlikely to happen anyway.
Plus a minor life force increase. The mana-altered silver takes enchantments well.
Hmm.
I examined the enchanted crown from every angle. It emitted a faint glow from the magic, looking unmistakably precious.
Nice feel to it. I could’ve made a total scam item, but since it’s light-touch, just wearing it for a slight lifespan extension vibe. Not overpowered, so fine!
Let’s list the spells: auto-size adjustment. Charm increase (minor). Poison immunity. Disease immunity. Life force increase (minor). Something like that.
Hmm… minor charm and life force boosts should suffice. More might be overkill. Nah, this is plenty for a magic-less era.
Finally, auto-repair enchantment. Technically time magic reverting it to a set point if damaged.
Wearing it gains others’ favor, immunity to disease/poison, life force boost. Plus auto-repair. Layered minor spells make a modest crown, but in this magic-free age, it’s plenty.
“Here.”
I levitated the crown with mana to the leader.
“This crown is proof of my promise to you. Keep your vow to lead humans rightly, and it will bless you.”
The faintly glowing crown. The human leader stared blankly, tossing aside his twig circlet.
“Fail to lead them rightly, and the crown will leave your head. Be warned—and heed it well.”
The crown settled perfectly on his head, as if it belonged there.
“Ooh… oooh…!!”
The crown on the leader’s head began glowing brighter, like a halo shining from behind.
Immortal Crown. One of the imperial symbols of the empire and one of humanity’s three divine treasures. Date of creation unknown. Legend says it was made right after humanity’s birth, but as it’s pure mithril, mana dating is impossible—naturally, since it’s an imperial treasure never permitted for testing.
It bears primitive enchantments protecting the wearer from poison and disease while enhancing their charm. Being pure mithril, which amplifies magic, maximizes these effects.
But its true worth is symbolic. For ages, it symbolized human kings’ authority, birthing the legend that whoever claims it becomes humanity’s king.
Strong will resists its captivation; it grants full immunity to poison and disease, plus lifespan extension. Wars over it have toppled kingdoms—its symbolism is immense.
It vanished from history once but was reclaimed by the empire’s founder amid trials, becoming an imperial symbol and national treasure.
Rumor holds that donning it prompts one question: answer wrongly, and effects weaken; answer disastrously, and it constricts the head in agony.
Crown delivered, back to business. These humans wrapped in rough hides look pitiful without proper thread.
I offered a spindle, thread, and bone needle.
“A gift.”
“This is…?”
“Tools to spin animal fur or plant fibers into thread like this. Can’t live in hides forever.”
Not that I’m any better, still draped in white slime hide. Hmm… should make proper clothes sometime. No sewing knowledge, though. Maybe search internet memories? Materials are endless… better than nothing.
“How do you use it?”
“This? Like so.”
I snapped a branch from the hut, shaped it, fitted the spindle weight. Carve a hook at the end, tease animal fluff onto it, spin the spindle-rod to twist thread. Primitive, inefficient, but huge for Stone Age humans.
“Spin like this to make thread. Use it and the needle to stitch hides, fish hooks for angling, weave crosswise for cloth.”
I levitated the thread with mana, weaving it midair into fabric. Threads layering into cloth—the leader watched, dumbfounded.
“Don’t expect perfection at first. Focus on using the thread variably. Cloth comes later.”
Can’t fill on first sip. Cloth-weaving for threadless folk is like sprinting for a crawling babe.
Just introduce the concept—that’s enough. They can carve stone spindles or fire-clay ones… wait, no pottery yet? With fire and tools, it’ll come soon.
Hmm… they’ll figure it out. Not spoon-feeding everything, right?