Master Rowan, after a hard day's work, returned home (to the giant tree), only to find a group of 'duskies' with blades and staves in hand.
These 'duskies' looked fierce, each with a white cloth on his head. One of them even had a dog's head on top.
"Holy...!
They're invading!"
As Rowan got closer, he heard peals of laughter coming from Greater Lord Rukkhadevata's palace.
At this moment...
The Scarlet King, the Goddess of Flowers, and Rukkhadevata, three people whose fates were intertwined, appeared in the same place. They were talking happily and had forged a deep friendship. Suddenly, a voice made them all pause.
"My good man, why does the priest wear a dog head?"
"...It's a jackal."
"Both canines. No difference."
"How many 'duskies' did you bring this time?"
?
?
?
"We may be dark, but please don't call us 'duskies'."
"Be proud, what's there to be shy about? To be honest, I know it's impolite, but I just really want to use this word, 'duskies'. Please allow me to be impolite just this once. This is one of the few chances I've had to use this word in the four-times-two-and-a-half-years I've been in this world," Rowan said with a sincere face.
Peterpan suddenly popped up: "Your Highness, should I write this part down?"
"No."
...
Rukkhadevata spoke to a man with a dignified appearance, her expression a bit awkward.
"Al-Ahmar, my child has returned. I wanted him to meet you and Nabu."
"What a handsome bird-headed 'dusky'."
Scarlet King: ...
Al-Ahmar felt his heart sink. It was true, compared to others, he was a bit darker. The hat he wore was indeed a bird. But 'bird-headed dusky'...
"Mister, it would be even better if your bird head had a chicken's comb."
...
"Hahaha!
!
(?
?
?
*)!" The Goddess of Flowers, Nabu, clutched her stomach, laughing so hard. Her fair skin trembled with her melodious laughter.
Al-Ahmar was not in a good mood after being called a 'bird-headed dusky', but seeing the Goddess of Flowers laugh so happily, he felt his mood instantly heal.
*She's laughing!*
*She's laughing!*
*I'm so happy!*
Instantly, the Scarlet King's opinion of Rowan improved dramatically.
*As expected of the child of the wise Rukkhadevata, he also possesses great wisdom.*
"Rowan!
Do not be rude. He is my friend, Al-Ahmar, the master of the desert."
Rowan saw that his mother had spoken, so he quieted down, not daring to speak recklessly anymore.
"What a lively child," the Goddess of Flowers, Nabu, said after composing herself, speaking to the child who had made her laugh so hard.
Rowan silently rolled his eyes. *What kind of child wakes up to kill demon gods, kills giant beasts at noon, and plows the entire earth again before bed?*
"Indeed, so cheerful," Al-Ahmar echoed, but for some reason, he kept glancing at the Goddess of Flowers, the corners of his mouth unconsciously turning up.
Rowan smelled a familiar scent. His brain spun rapidly, as if remembering something.
After some conversation, it was finally time to see the guests off. Before the Scarlet King left, Rowan gave him a dark-skinned ram.
...
"Mother, you've formed an alliance?"
"That's right. We will build a beautiful homeland together. This way, you can relax a bit and won't have to fight demon gods every day. Al-Ahmar's reputation is widespread; all the demon gods will migrate."
When Rowan heard this, he instantly panicked.
My food is running away!
!
!
For the current Rowan, fighting was less a battle and more a hunt. He had discovered that every time he "ate" a demon god, his constitution and elemental capacity grew stronger. And now his prey was escaping.
"Where will they go?"
"West is the desert. They can only go east (to Morax's territory)."
At this point, Greater Lord Rukkhadevata suddenly became serious.
"Rowan!
Tell me, have you started to enjoy the feeling of battle?" Her tone was extremely stern. It was the first time Rowan had heard his mother speak to him in such a tone.
Rowan thought for a moment and said: "I think so. I grow stronger through battle. I like this feeling."
Greater Lord Rukkhadevata closed her eyes upon hearing this. "Some demon gods are inherently warlike. I don't blame you for that. But Rowan, you must know, the most glorious victory cannot compare to the most mediocre peace."
*The most glorious victory, for the people, is still no match for the most mediocre peace.*
Rowan's mind replayed this sentence.
"I understand."