The Slave and the Craftsman

In the remote town, a gathering was held only once a month. People from nearby Trilobite villages would come to participate, making the town exceptionally lively during these times.

Vendors sat on the ground, displaying a few simple items before them.

The most common were various bone implements; rarer were precious stones and objects inlaid with gems. Among the food, Ancestral Fish was the most ordinary, along with some rare creatures caught from the sea.

Tall Trilobite Men walked through the crowd carrying baskets woven from primitive ferns on their backs, leading children by the hand. Young people frolicked through the market streets.

Today, Stan Tito also came to select things he wanted.

"Hey!"

A somewhat familiar voice suddenly came from behind. The craftsman crouching in front of a stall immediately turned his head, but only saw a back view.

He stood up and followed, then met the person in a quiet corner of the street.

It was a female Trilobite Person with snow-white bone armor. She looked at Stan Tito with a smile in her eyes.

Stan Tito recognized her at once and bowed respectfully.

"So it's Princess Saliman!"

Princess Saliman stepped forward, her words full of regret: "Stan Tito, you really have become a craftsman here."

Stan Tito nodded: "Because I was originally a craftsman."

Princess Saliman shook her head: "No, you are the descendant of Saint Tito, the chosen Child of Fortune."

"You shouldn't be wasting your potential here. You were born for a greater purpose."

The noble princess extended her hand to Stan Tito. "Come with me," she urged. "Child of Fortune, we need your help."

Stan Tito quietly looked at her, his eyes unmoved.

"Help you with what? Help you wage war against Henir?"

"I have no interest in your war with Henir, nor do I care who claims the throne of Yinsai."

With that, he turned to leave.

Saliman watched Stan Tito turn away, calling out anxiously.

"We just want to protect our own country! What's wrong with that?"

"This war has gone on for too long, too many people have died."

Stan Tito laughed without turning back: "If you don't want to continue fighting, if you don't want more deaths."

"You can surrender now, and this war will end immediately."

Saliman caught up: "I hope you can help us open the door to God's realm, to make a plea to the great God Yinsai."

"Stan Tito," she pressed, "even if not for ending this war, don't you yearn to become the second saint since your ancestor to have an audience with God?"

Stan Tito finally stopped. Something in Saliman's words had moved him.

He turned around, looking seriously at Princess Saliman.

He asked her: "Opening the door to God's realm requires you to give up some of your most precious things. Are you sure your king would be willing?"

Saliman immediately agreed: "Of course!"

"Our loyalty to God has never been in question."

Stan Tito let out a soft laugh: "What if the price is giving up the Ruhe beasts?"

Saliman's eyes widened, hesitation appearing in her expression.

But she still said: "The king will surely make the right choice."

For a moment, Stan Tito was tempted.

He thought he might be able to persuade the princess and the Samo king to give up the power of the Ruhe beasts, thereby receiving God's blessing from the realm of God.

Abandon destruction, welcome light—

Stan Tito sat in contemplation for a whole night, thinking through the entire night.

He felt that this time, if he went, it might not be so easy to return. In the war between Henir's dynasty and the Samo family, he could remain neutral, but once he intervened, it meant he could no longer turn back.

No matter what his reasons or initial intentions were.

What awaited him was either a slim hope of success, or death, or an even more tragic end.

But he still felt he should go, because he felt this might be the last hope.

It was also, perhaps, the last hope for the Trilobite Men to gain enlightenment and secure their future.

Henir believed that becoming king would allow him to create a new era, but Stan Tito didn't think so.

So many generations of kings, hero after hero, had been unable to change the status quo.

Even if Henir became the king of Yinsai, he couldn't create miracles. He was just one among those kings.

He might approach Yesael, but could never become Redlichia.

He believed, like his ancestor, that only the power of creation and dreams could give the Trilobite Men a future.

He quietly watched the sun rise, then stood up.

Finally, he made the decision to set out.

But before leaving, he was waiting for one person, to arrange everything that remained.

On the coast, a figure came walking on the waves following the rising sun. It was the slave who often came to secretly learn craftsmanship.

He bent over, panting, in front of Stan Tito.

"Master!"

"You suddenly called for me, is there something wrong?"

Stan Tito told him: "I'm preparing to go to a very far place. It might be a long time before I return, or I might not return at all."

"So," he continued, his tone serious, "I have some important matters to entrust to you."

The young slave was immediately stunned. He looked at Stan Tito reluctantly: "Can't you not go, Master?"

Stan Tito patted the young slave's shoulder: "I can't. It's a very important matter."

The young slave nodded and said, "Oh!"

Since it was a very important matter, there was nothing to be done.

"If it's your task, Master, I'll carry it out to the best of my ability."

Stan Tito asked him: "Do you have a name?"

The slave shook his head: "I don't have a name. My master calls me Black Worm."

Stan Tito thought for a moment: "Then I'll give you a name. Hmm~"

"How about Sandean?"

The slave was stunned: "Sandean?"

"What does it mean?"

Stan Tito lowered his head, looking into his eyes: "Preacher."

"That is, one who passes on faith and thought."

The young slave still looked bewildered, but Stan Tito had already placed his hand on his forehead. A powerful force filled his mind, igniting the eternal light in his consciousness.

"Bestowing of Power."

The young slave saw a beam of light spreading before his eyes, dyeing everything a blazing white.

He felt as if something had been opened in the depths of his mind, as if a new world had opened its doors to him.

"What is this?"

The young slave still didn't understand what had happened, but he knew he had gained something extraordinary.

Stan Tito's words reached his ears, deeply imprinting in his heart.

"Sandean!"

"My name is Stan Tito, the inheritor of the saint's will in the Tito family."

"Although you are not of the Tito family, Saint Tito's will was never inherited through bloodline. I hope you can inherit the saint's will and my ideals."

"Saint Tito hoped to bring the spirit's power of dreams to the world, and I hope our civilization can enter the next era."

"This time I leave, it's to seek the future of Yinsai."

"Whether I succeed or fail, I hope you'll continue to pass on Saint Tito's beautiful wish and my dream."

"This is the origin of your name."

"It is also my blessing and wish for you."

Stan Tito only gave a trace of his bloodline to the young slave, just enough for him to awaken the power of mind-reading and consciousness communication, not enough to become a high-level priest.

After all, he still needed to reserve power for what was to come.

But for the young slave, this was already unimaginable.

From an ordinary slave, he had suddenly become an inheritor of Redlichia's mythical blood.

After awakening his power, Stan Tito led him to the dark room inside the house, a room that had never allowed others to enter before.

In the room, Sun Cup plants were cultivated one after another.

Stan Tito brought Sandean to the central plant, lifted the flower pot and placed it in front of Sandean: "This is the Sun Cup left by the great poet who had an audience with God, known to the world as Saint Tito. It contains all the memories he left behind, a vast library."

"Of course."

"I've also left some of my things in there. You can look for them if you're interested."

At this point, Stan Tito smiled, but didn't specify exactly what he had left.

The slave named Sandean held the Sun Cup, looking incredulously at Saint Tito's relic.

Could such a thing really be entrusted to a slave like him?

He was dazed, as if in a dream.

It wasn't until Stan Tito stepped out of the room that he suddenly chased after him, calling out.

"Master!"

"I'm just a lowly slave!"

Stan Tito waved goodbye with his back turned, a smile appearing on his face: "Oh? Is that so?"

"That's perfect then."

"I'm just an insignificant craftsman myself."