Three years passed.
Elias was thirteen now.
And he had not changed his mind.
If anything, the world had given him more reasons to regret his choice.
But he didn't.
Every morning, he trained.
Every afternoon, he studied.
Every night, he read.
And every day, he watched the gap between himself and the other races grow wider.
At thirteen, Elias could barely defeat a Beastfolk child in a physical contest.
He couldn't outrun them.
He couldn't match their strength.
He couldn't see in complete darkness like some of them could.
He couldn't manipulate mana.
He couldn't heal wounds quickly.
He couldn't even sense the presence of monsters until they were already close.
But Elias had discovered something else.
Humans were still good at something.
They learned.
Fast.
"Again."
Elias stood in the training yard, holding a wooden sword.
Across from him stood Garen.
The old soldier crossed his arms.
Elias attacked.
A horizontal swing.
Garen blocked.
Elias immediately stepped forward and struck again.
Blocked.
He changed his grip.
Low strike.
Blocked.
He stepped back.
Then attacked from the opposite side.
Garen stopped the blade with one hand.
"Better."
Elias breathed heavily.
"What did I do wrong?"
"You didn't."
Elias frowned.
Garen tossed the wooden sword back to him.
"You changed your attack after I blocked the first one."
"So?"
"So most children repeat the same attack."
Garen smiled slightly.
"You didn't."
Elias looked at the sword.
Garen walked toward him.
"You're weak, Elias."
Elias nodded.
"I know."
"But you pay attention."
Garen tapped his forehead.
"That's dangerous."
Elias smiled.
Later that afternoon, Elias walked through the market.
The settlement wasn't large.
A few hundred humans lived there.
Most had accepted that their lives would never resemble those of the powerful races beyond the settlement.
The market was crowded.
Merchants sold food, tools and weapons.
Then Elias noticed a commotion.
A carriage had entered the settlement.
Its walls were covered in golden markings.
A group of armed figures walked beside it.
The crowd moved aside.
Elias recognized them immediately.
Elves.
Their ears were long.
Their movements were graceful.
Their clothing was far better than anything the humans could afford.
A young elf stepped out of the carriage.
He looked around.
Then laughed.
"So this is where the humans live?"
Nobody answered.
The elf smiled.
"How pathetic."
Elias stopped walking.
An older human merchant lowered his head.
"Welcome to our settlement."
The elf looked at him.
"You still live here?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
The merchant hesitated.
"Because... this is our home."
The elf laughed.
"Home?"
He looked around.
"You're surrounded by races stronger than you, and you still call this place home?"
One of the elf guards laughed.
The merchant said nothing.
Elias clenched his fist.
He wanted to say something.
But before he could—
A small object flew through the air.
It struck the ground beside the elf.
THUD.
Everyone turned.
A wooden sword lay there.
The elf looked toward Elias.
Elias stepped forward.
"Leave them alone."
Silence.
The elf stared at him.
Then laughed.
"You?"
Elias said nothing.
The elf pointed at him.
"You're human."
"Yes."
"And you're telling me what to do?"
"Yes."
The elf smiled.
"Interesting."
He walked toward Elias.
Every step was calm.
Confident.
When he was only a few meters away, he suddenly disappeared.
Elias's eyes widened.
THUD!
He hit the ground.
The elf was standing over him.
Elias hadn't even seen the attack.
Blood ran from his lip.
The elf looked down.
"That's the difference between us."
Elias pushed himself up.
The elf kicked him again.
Elias rolled across the dirt.
Someone shouted.
"Stop!"
The elf ignored them.
He walked over.
"You humans should be grateful."
Elias slowly stood.
"Grateful?"
"Yes."
The elf smiled.
"We could have erased your race long ago."
Elias stared at him.
"But we didn't."
The elf leaned closer.
"Because even the weakest creatures have their uses."
Elias's expression hardened.
The elf turned away.
"Come."
His guards followed.
The carriage disappeared down the road.
The market slowly returned to normal.
Elias remained standing.
His lip was bleeding.
His fists were trembling.
Not from fear.
Anger.
Garen approached from behind.
"You shouldn't have challenged him."
Elias wiped the blood from his mouth.
"I know."
"He could have killed you."
"I know."
"Then why?"
Elias looked down the road where the carriage had disappeared.
"Because he was wrong."
Garen raised an eyebrow.
"About what?"
Elias looked at his blood-covered hand.
"We're weak."
He closed his fist.
"But I don't believe that's all we are."
Garen didn't answer.
Elias turned toward home.
That night, he opened the ancient books again.
But this time, he wasn't looking at the pictures.
He was looking at the words.
He searched for anything about humanity's strength.
Anything about their weapons.
Their inventions.
Their wars.
Their enemies.
Their victories.
Hours passed.
Then—
He found something.
A page near the back of one of the oldest books.
The writing was different.
Older.
Almost impossible to read.
Elias brought a candle closer.
There was a single sentence.
He read it slowly.
"When mankind had nothing, mankind learned to make something."
Elias stared at it.
He turned the page.
Nothing.
Another page.
Nothing.
He turned back.
The sentence was still there.
His heart began beating faster.
He reached for another book.
Then another.
He searched until dawn.
And eventually...
He found the same sentence.
Not written in the same handwriting.
Not from the same book.
But the meaning was almost identical.
Elias whispered:
"Why does everyone keep writing this?"
Outside the window, the first light of morning appeared.
Elias closed the books.
He didn't know it yet.
But his journey had already begun.
Not with strength.
Not with magic.
Not with some legendary weapon.
It began with a question.
What had humanity done when it had nothing?
And Elias intended to find the answer.