Chapter 36: Heart of the Earth
The sound of hammering heated iron, resembling the heartbeat of the earth, has earned this hammer its name—it’s the legendary Heart of the Earth, made from pure black iron and a symbol that every dwarf dreams of possessing.
Crafted from adamantium, the hardest metal known, this hammer can refine any metal. So every five years, dwarves host a competition to showcase their skills. The winner gets to use the Heart of the Earth for five years, along with the distinguished title of Dwarf Grandmaster.
Naturally, this title comes with the obligation to represent all dwarves, but hey, who wouldn’t endure that for the honor of being the top craftsman and holding the Heart of the Earth? It’s basically the crown jewel ruling over all dwarves.
But let’s not underestimate this craftsman’s hammer just because it’s used by artisans. Known to be made from adamantium, supposedly, there isn’t a rock it can’t smash, and legends say it could even break dragon scales! Well, whether those scales were really dragon scales is still up in the air.
— Encyclopedia of Legendary Weapons
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
The world started progressing at a breakneck speed. Humans began banding together, forming villages, big and small.
With primitive clothing and booming agriculture, humans achieved a living standard light-years ahead of before, leading to yet another explosive population boom.
Earlier population increases had humans spreading across the world faster than food could be supplied. But now, with plenty of food available, human villages were growing like weeds.
But enough about humans! Let’s talk about other races… Dwarves were digging into mountains, unearthing shiny new metals.
Wait a minute, that hammer was supposed to be for refining metals, not smashing rocks and digging out caves! Sure, it can pulverize any rock, but that’s not its purpose! Come on, people!
*Clears throat.* Anyway, let’s not dwell on the dwarves. It’s a headache trying to keep tabs on them underground. I tried casting some sight magic, but the deeper they go, the harder it is to see. I mean, watching those dwarves dig caves with the gift I gave them? Speechless.
Moving on to the elves. They lived serenely, sticking close to the World Tree. They hunted animals with bows made from its wood, grilled meat with fire spirit magic, and communed with the spirits.
Aside from them being pure carnivores, they’re basically the epitome of fantasy elves, slowly increasing their numbers in the shade of Yggdrasil.
There are quite a few new elven births, although it seems the switch from human to elf is happening less and less.
I guess since elves can’t really eat veggies, fewer humans want in on that action. Humans are half carnivorous, half vegetarian after all.
Next up, the lizardmen, who are just chilling as usual. They’re expanding their territory using spirits’ magic and campfires, but they’re not a particularly greedy race, so conflicts with other races are pretty rare.
I mean, if you face a lizardman’s sturdy physique, you’d rethink any inclination to stir trouble.
Anyway, lizardmen are doing just fine. Not much worry there.
Beastmen were mingling among humans. Even with their beastly traits, they were keen to be seen as human, making the most of their special skills to blend in.
And lastly, the giants continued their life-and-death struggles with beasts in harsh climates.
With their size and weight being weapons all on their own, they lived as apex predators in their territories.
Anyway, with these various races and humans forming all sorts of villages, large and small, they’re competing and sometimes cooperating, leading to all kinds of growth.
Thus, numerous cities popped up, and in the largest one… the owner of the crown I gave was ruling like a boss.
Thanks to their overwhelming charisma, they commanded other humans, making their city the biggest and most prosperous one around.
Who knows? The first nation might be born soon…
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
I watched society develop quietly.
Not interfering with humans, just seeing how they evolve felt a bit like watching a simulation game full of AIs.
Or maybe like tuning into a strategy gaming stream? Honestly, I find it amusing just sitting back and watching.
As I kept my eyes on the humans, new things started popping up among them.
First was writing—a way to record language.
Though I spread the language I taught to dragons and lizardmen, there wasn’t a writing system to back it up… until now! Primitive writing started emerging among humans.
It kicked off with pictographs, basically drawing objects. Naturally, the lizardmen were the originators of this writing system.
They carved images on stone tablets to communicate tons of information. It was only logical for their drawings to evolve into written symbols. Their stone tablets? They’d become the first records of history!
As these lizardmen records reached humans, the drawings simplified over time and turned into primitive ideograms thanks to human input.
However, even though primitive ideograms were symbolic as the first writing system… they didn’t catch on widely.
Each symbol representing a single meaning made understanding them not too tough… but there were a ton of symbols, and since it was more like drawing than writing, mastering it wasn’t easy.
Had I not stealthily introduced an alphabet of consonants and vowels… let’s just say hundreds of years later, they’d still be suffering learning ideograms.
Anyhow, with writing spreading across races, civilization faced big and small changes.
The most eye-catching change? Primitive religion.
Primitive religions sprang up to make sense of natural phenomena humans couldn’t grasp.
Vague gods, barely taking form, started to gain a shape through human belief, just a little bit at a time.
Yeah, they were referred to as gods, but they were still just slightly better than lowly spirits.
For instance, the god who came into being to explain thunder and lightning was born from giants’ faith in those phenomena.
Giants, towering above trees and often struck by lightning, believed that when they sensed thunder, it was their mighty Father Giant having a loud tantrum. To avoid the Father’s wrath, they’d flop onto the ground, and after taking this action, the number of giants getting zapped by lightning took a nosedive.
The fearsome Father Giant, stretching tall enough to touch the sky and with a booming voice, was born from the giants’ dread.
And, well… I, too, was already being hailed as a god.
As writing spread, the previously adrift lizardmen’s faith began to funnel toward me.
As if spreading writing was a prerequisite to the existence of a god.
What confirms this fact is…
✉️
The small envelope icon that popped up in the corner of my vision.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
What is a god?
What is faith?
The lizardmen claim that the Creator Dragon God is the greatest deity who created this world.
The elves argue that the World Tree Yggdrasil, our great mother, is the guardian of nature.
The dwarves state that the silent Sacred Mountain Sagarmatha is the pillar of the world.
Those beastmen who admire the original beast, giants who respect Father Giant, and merfolk who worship the great flow.
The Church of Life also venerates the Goddess of Life.
Everyone calls out to their gods, yet they remain ignorant of the truth. No, they’re turning a blind eye to it.
The fact that gods originally emerged to explain phenomena that intelligent beings couldn’t comprehend.
I write this book to straighten out their misunderstanding.
I have an inkling of the shock this book will cause, but I’ll keep penning on.
Until the illusion of gods is wiped away, human intelligence won’t rise further.
— The Illusion Named God
This book has been banned in the kingdom, and merely reading it will earn you a heretic label from the pantheon.
You may also like Mesugaki Tank Enters The Academy
