Beastkin (7)

In this world, there are various beastkin races ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠besides humans, but among them, the most vile are those beast-like ones! Sinful creatures born from the wrong choice of human ancestors to mate with beasts! That's right, the beastkin! We must purge them all to cleanse humanity's sins, as they defile human purity in the most horrific way! Back to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the forests! The fields! The wilds!!! That's their most natural state! So, exterminating every last beastkin and wiping their seed from this world will promise a bright future for us humans.... What, what is this! You mongrels!!! Get lost! Get out!!! You stinking furballs!!! Don't you dare touch me!!!

Beastkin began mingling with human groups, and some time passed. A few hundred years, that is. Thinking of a few hundred years as "some time".... My sense of time really has gone haywire. Heh heh. Well, when you fast-forward through it, even decades pass in the blink of an eye. Anyway, around the time it became common to see beastkin mixed in with human herds.

I decided to casually check on the technologies humans had developed.

First up, the really important one: farming. The basic farming techniques I'd taught the Lizardsmen had been passed on to humans, evolving bit by bit. No longer just scattering seeds willy-nilly—they were tilling the soil, planting seeds, and tending them until they sprouted. And after that, weeding out everything but the crops to maximize yield. Of course, there were still plenty of shortcomings. They didn't understand soil fertility, so they didn't know why you rotate crops to replenish it. They thought planting more was always better, overplanting and ruining whole fields. Mistakes like that kept popping up.

But compared to the beginning, they'd definitely progressed, so that's good, right? And domesticating cattle gave them a huge labor boost.... Yeah, I could say they'd advanced for sure. They hadn't gotten into selective breeding yet, so yields were pretty low, but if push came to shove, I could tweak that myself. Hmm. Anyway, details like that can wait.

Moving past farming. The grains they grew were stored long-term in pottery fired in kilns. They were still pretty crude—mostly pointed-bottom jars like scratched pottery—but the ability to store grains alone was a huge boon. Compared to the days of hunt-or-starve, it must've felt like paradise. The importance of savings!

Next, animal husbandry. Raising livestock for meat and byproducts. Combined with farming, humans no longer relied solely on foraging and hunting. Eggs, milk, wool—these byproducts were a big help too.... No need to belabor the usefulness of husbandry.

Then spinning thread from fibers, and weaving it into cloth.... Ah, weaving was still clumsy. But they were using the thread for fishing at least, so they were trying. Wonder when they'll make clothes from cloth? Kinda curious.

Beyond that, language development, transitioning from chipped stone tools to polished ones.... Making simple baskets from bark or leaves.... That was about the extent of human tech.

Maybe it was time to teach them something new.... Just as I was thinking that, humans discovered a new technology on their own. Well, "on their own" might be a stretch.

"Black rock! Dig it up! Lizardmen trade for food! Everyone! Work!"

They'd found the quarry the Lizardsmen left behind and started mining obsidian. That's right—mining.

Humans discovered the Lizardsmen's obsidian quarry and began digging with stone axes and picks. They didn't know iron or even bronze yet, so obsidian was the best they could manage. But they'd traded with Lizardsmen before and knew its value. Thus, some humans learned that digging into the earth could yield treasures.

Hmm. Acquiring a technology I hadn't taught them? Extremely positive. At this rate, they could keep developing even without my help. Not that I planned to step back right now.

Time flew by, and humans kept advancing. They spun thread into crude cloth and even made clothes. They pondered what else to do with it and soon twisted it into ropes. Used those ropes to build houses, or lashed logs together into primitive rafts after noticing wood floats. And fishing proficiently with thread, wooden rods, and bone hooks? Impressive. They even figured out fish eat worms and threaded bait onto hooks.

Another notable development: the discovery of bronze.

It started absurdly—while firing pottery, they tossed in random stuff to bake. Among the results was metal, one with a relatively low melting point: bronze, an alloy of copper and other metals.

Bronze. The first metal. A human marveled at it melting into liquid in hot flames... and lost a hand, or a life. Minor issue, right? They couldn't use the molten metal as-is, but some kind soul taught them to melt it in stone crucibles and pour into sand molds to cool. Still making crude items, but in time, they'll craft proper ones. Maybe even attract those fantasy staples, the dwarves. Hmm, that'd be fun. If there's elves, there should be dwarves!

To these rapidly advancing humans, I gave another gift. Yggdrasil and Sylphid whined that I favored humans too much.... What can you do? I used to be human once, long ago. Before thousands of years passed. But I've cut back a lot! I watched for ages before preparing this gift!

Anyway, my gift was... the wheel.

A circular object with a central axle. Essential for carts, carriages, bicycles, cars, you name it. I gave it to the human leader... no, now it's fitting to call him king. A descendant several generations removed from the one I crowned. The crown had changed hands dozens—nearly a hundred—times by then. But stories of me persisted, or maybe blood memory lingered. No issues accepting my gift.

I showed him the wheel, demonstrated it rotating on the axle.... Assembled a simple wooden handcart as a present. The human king found it fascinating. After that, they started making wooden wheels and carts. A new era in transport, but that's minor.

And now, the important part wasn't that.

"Mom."

As I wandered observing humans, a small voice called. My quietest child. The tallest mountain. The world's forehead. Sagarmatha.

"What's up?"

I listened closely, and he replied awkwardly.

"Can I wipe out the humans?"

"What kind of talk is that out of nowhere?!"

Sudden human extermination declaration! Was this kid always this reckless?! No! Absolutely not! He was the quiet, cautious type who hardly moved!

"Humans are burrowing into me. Can I wipe them out?"

"No, explain properly first! Why exterminate all of a sudden?!"

Sagarmatha sighed softly and explained calmly.

"Humans entered caves inside me, and now they're digging down into the earth. It's annoying, so I'll wipe them out."

"Enough with the wiping out already!! That's way too brutal!"

He used to be so tight-lipped before. How'd he get obsessed with extermination? First things first, check out these humans burrowing into Sagarmatha.

"But why ask me?"

"You favor humans a lot, Mom. Thought I'd need your permission even for extermination."

Hmm. Even Sagarmatha says that. Do the other kids see me as super biased too? Blood bends inward, huh. Well, can't be helped. I was human once.

"Guess I need to check out these humans burrowing into you."

Humans fearless enough to enter caves in his massive heights—what were they after? What drove them inside? Didn't they worry about cave-ins burying them alive? No idea, but... time to investigate. Why they'd burrowed into Sagarmatha. If they had bad intentions.... I'd drag them out by force if needed.