6. The Alien Invaders

After hesitating for a moment, his father finally agreed:

"My dear little Gret, if you must go up, be as quick as you can and come right back!"

He had originally intended to go himself, but if the mages had not all departed, Gret’s smaller stature made him significantly less likely to be noticed.

Little Gret nodded and tiptoed out of the cellar.

"Gods of whatever kind, please, let those mage-lords be gone!"

Walking back into the house, he found the place silent; there was not a soul to be seen. His home showed no signs of having been disturbed or searched; it seemed the mages had not intended to search his house at all.

Little Gret carefully approached the table and, unable to wait any longer, drank a large bowl of water. As he felt the cool liquid soothe his parched throat, with only the sound of crows cawing in the quiet surroundings, little Gret broke into a smile.

Wonderful. It seemed the mages had truly left.

For some reason, those terrifying, magic-wielding demons had not gone on a killing spree this time. They were saved, and the village was saved!

Overjoyed, little Gret turned to head back to the cellar to tell his father, mother, and sister that everything was over.

In the next instant, the boy’s eyes widened, and his body froze in place.

Standing behind him was a young man draped in a luxurious black velvet robe, possessing fair skin and refined, handsome features. Whether it was the star-patterned black velvet robe or the snow-white skin that clearly had never known the harshness of sun or rain, everything about him declared the man’s identity—a mage-lord from the heavens.

He was in his home!

Little Gret trembled, standing there in sheer terror, not knowing what to do.

***

The mage-lords had not all left!

Would he turn him into an animal, or kill him?

"Little one, I apologize for entering your home without permission." The young mage’s tone was peaceful, nothing like the legends. "I have a question. I observed the farmland outside, and there are places with clear signs of recent trampling. What happened here?"

Little Gret’s body shook uncontrollably as he fought his fear to answer:

"Two weeks ago, some orcs tried to pillage the village. The people of the village worked together and drove them off!"

"Are harassment by orcs and other monsters common for the village?" the young mage asked again.

"Yes," Gret replied, trembling. "There are also goblins, and, uh, kobolds. But the orcs are the most terrifying and powerful!"

Aelian listened to the child’s answer, feeling no surprise.

In the era of Old Ealdor, the modern concept of a nation had not yet emerged, nor were there clear borders. These human villages were scattered like stars across the land, merely claimed as subjects by the mages of the Ealdor floating city.

In this age where humanity was scarce, the vast numbers of goblins, kobolds, orcs, and other non-human races were the greatest enemies of human settlements. Many villages were destroyed during these invasions, and the fleeing humans would establish new villages elsewhere. Culture, civilization, and knowledge were frequently severed in the process.

"Humans lack the reproductive capacity of goblins, the innate magical talent of elves, and the raw strength of orcs. Their only advantage is creativity."

"With non-human races constantly attacking like this, human villages have no way to live in peace, farm, or grow their population."

"No wonder that in the original history, the human population saw almost no growth for the millennium following the fall of the Ealdor Empire..."

"It will be necessary to organize a purge of the nearby orc tribes in the future..."

Aelian’s thoughts churned. He looked out the window, speaking as if making a prophecy or perhaps a promise:

"From this day forth, the orcs, goblins, kobolds... and all other non-human races will not come again."

Little Gret did not understand what the great mage meant; he only trembled as he asked:

"Respected... Master Mage... will you kill me? Or turn me into a little rabbit or a toad?"

Aelian shook his head:

"No. The floating city has enacted new laws; the act of hunting surface civilians has been outlawed."

Little Gret was so excited he almost jumped:

"Really? Truly?"

"Truly," Aelian said, then asked, "By the way, little one, what is your name?"

The reason he had come to this house was that he had detected a peculiar aura.

The aura of a dragon.

"My name is Gret. Just like my father, so everyone calls me little Gret."

Gret?

It was him, indeed.

The future leader of the surface-dweller resistance, the Dragon-Blood Sorcerer, Gret.

The first "sorcerer" in human history.