After swearing allegiance to Teo, the five achieved rapid evolution.
They immediately expressed their desire to help him.
Since they hadn’t learned language yet, they used every gesture they could, desperately.
“Ah-woo!! Tta-yi, Tta!!! (We evolved to help you! Command us!)”
“……?”
‘What’s this? Are they aiming to become mobile game pros or something?’
Even Teo, unshakable as he was, found himself briefly confused at first.
“Jja, Jjama (salty)! Danma (sweet)!”
“Oh, you remember well.”
Before long, the five began pointing at various things with remarkable accuracy.
In their still-clumsy pronunciation, they identified flavors like salty and sweet.
To Teo, their performance was immensely satisfying.
‘I don’t know why they suddenly evolved so drastically… Wait, did they get influenced by my presence? Well, that works for me.’
“Follow me. First, I’ll teach you how to speak.”
Teo then began teaching the five how to speak.
The language most familiar to him: Korean.
The one he was considering as the official language of the nation he planned to establish.
‘It’ll probably take a while for them to learn.’
At the same time, he thought:
This was going to be a long and arduous process.
Even though they were like blank slates, having just gained rationality,
it wasn’t realistic to expect them to learn Korean in just a day or two.
‘Korean isn’t exactly easy to master.’
Having learned dozens of languages himself, he knew this well.
Korean’s difficulty was moderate to high.
Getting started was easy, but it became significantly harder beyond that.
Even for those with exceptional intelligence, it would take time to become fluent.
‘Well, to me, every language is the same. But for these normal beings, it’ll be tough.’
“Alright, let’s start with something simple. ‘Sit.'”
However, Teo insisted on using Korean.
He enforced actions with magical commands and projected illusions to visualize meanings,
embedding each word into their minds.
Though he expected this to take a long time and planned to begin with simple movements…
“Ah, An-ja (sit)!”
“Oh? Then…”
“Sit! Stand! Fight!”
“Wow, well done.”
There was one thing that caught him off guard:
the extraordinary learning speed of the five.
The eyes of these women, who wore nothing but determination, sparkled with intelligence.
“Good, good.”
– Swoosh swoosh.
“……!!!”
‘He patted me!’
‘Master is pleased with us!!’
‘Ah, my lord♡’
Teo’s action, intended as a reward, stirred an overwhelming reaction.
By imbuing his tail with warming magic and gently patting their heads, Teo expressed affection toward the five.
To him, this was simply a way of acknowledging beings he still considered primitive.
But to them?
Ah, the great being has noticed me! He has bestowed his favor upon me!
Their reactions couldn’t be anything but reverence and awe.
Now understanding, even faintly, how extraordinary Teo was after their evolution,
their eagerness to learn burned ever brighter.
“I will work for Lord Teo!”
“We pledge our loyalty to the master!”
“Good, good. Well done.”
Though their grammar was still messy,
Teo rewarded them with a smile and more pats.
– Stroke, stroke.
“……Hehe♡”
In less than three days, the five had mastered basic conversational skills.
This was the result of a miraculous combination of:
Teo’s magical teaching methods,
their extraordinary intelligence,
their burning desire to be useful,
and finally, the strokes and pats they received whenever they learned well.
And that miracle…
‘They’ve reached the language level of about a 3~4-year-old. It’s time to move on.’
“Alright. From now on, I’m going to teach you something called Hangeul.”
This was where Teo’s true intentions began to emerge.
With a satisfied grin, he growled,
“Krang.”
‘So this is why I insisted on teaching Korean instead of Spanish. To ensure that no one could ever question the legitimacy of our script.’
What is Hangeul?
It is an unparalleled writing system, recognized by linguists worldwide for its originality and sophistication.
Even Teo, upon discovering it, had marveled,
“They made this during that era? King Sejong, were you part of my kind?”
And now, Teo planned to make Hangeul the common script of his future nation.
In diplomacy, it would be a powerful asset.
Unlike other scripts, Hangeul’s unique structure would serve as a testament to the nation’s purity and independence.
This was why Teo had been so adamant about it.
“Good, good. Hangeul combines consonants, vowels, and final consonants…”
‘These five are smart, so they’ll pick it up quickly. But not everyone will.’
Teo’s ambition went further.
The nation he envisioned would be a land of many races,
races with vastly different levels of intelligence.
And teaching all of them Korean as a common language?
That was an impossible dream.
It was natural for people to stick to their native tongues.
But at the very least, Teo reasoned, they could adopt a single writing system.
‘At least Hangeul should spread.’
In his mind, if creating a universal spoken language was impossible,
then unifying the written language with the world’s most innovative script was the next best thing.
A script so unique that it stood apart from every other writing system.
A script capable of approximating nearly any sound—though not perfectly.
A script perfect for adaptation Hangeul.
Hangeul was perfect as the common script for a multi-racial nation.
‘If I make Hangeul mandatory for all writing, it’ll eventually become a huge asset.’
‘Sure, there are sounds it can’t represent, but those can be addressed over time.’
‘Considering diplomacy, having Korean as the official language is essential.’
‘So… you all need to learn it first.’
This belief drove Teo to teach the five Korean, a relatively difficult language, instead of simpler alternatives.
Whether they liked it or not, these five were destined to become key figures in the nation he envisioned.
It was only right that they led by example, using Korean and Hangeul.
At least, that’s how Teo saw it.
‘I hope they don’t stumble upon another language and get tempted to “take the red pill.” But if they do… well, I can’t help it.’
Despite his confidence, Teo couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
He had started teaching them, but what if another nation’s writing system turned out to be superior to Hangeul?
These thoughts gnawed at him, but…
—Lucia had no such doubts.
“Then, Lord Teo, as you instructed, I’ll head out for reconnaissance.”
“Alright. I’ll give you an artifact enchanted with translation magic, but avoid using Korean—no, Millenian.”
“Understood!”
After the initial education phase,
Teo tasked Lucia, the cultural and diplomatic officer, with scouting nearby nations.
Excited by her mission to assess the educational and cultural standards of other countries, Lucia set off with enthusiasm.
But what greeted her when she arrived?
A written landscape far more horrific than she had ever imagined.
“Is this really the continent’s common script?!”
Even with Teo’s enchanted artifact, the translation wasn’t smooth. Just how complicated could it be?
Lucia, posing as a noble, stood in a bookstore located in the capital of a nearby kingdom.
She opened a book, and the contents were far more convoluted than she had imagined.
The artifact allowed her to translate the text, but it transformed the words into exceedingly complex terms, making comprehension difficult.
Lucia’s brow furrowed.
“Lowly… No, shopkeeper. I’ll purchase this book.”
“‘On the Beauty of Runes’? Are you interested in runes?”
“Indeed. I thought I’d learn it from the basics.”
“Hmm? If you want to learn runes from the basics, that book won’t help you. In fact, books in general won’t suffice.”
“…What do you mean by that?”
“If you’re serious about learning, you’d better visit the Mage Guild over there. But be warned—it’ll cost you both time and money.”
“……?”
The bookseller’s words deepened her confusion.
Why would learning a script require the assistance of a mage? Sure, someone had to teach it, but why specifically a mage—a prestigious and advanced profession among humans?
Was the script really that difficult?
‘Could it truly be that hard?’
“Alright, let’s see… Hm?”
Curious, Lucia removed the enchanted artifact and opened the book again.
The moment she looked at the text without translation assistance, her eyes widened in astonishment.
And before her eyes…
– A page filled with countless intricate strokes and symbols unfolded.
“Is this the common continental script, runes? It’s not just scribbles?”
Even for her quick mind, these characters were hard to decipher at first glance.
What’s more, every single one of them seemed utterly unique.
On just one page, she found over a hundred different types.
Unlike Hangul, it lacked any visible patterns, leaving her doubting if this was even a proper system.
“Why is this so difficult? Of course, it’s difficult. If everyone could read, wouldn’t they all be running the country by now?”
“Is it really that hard?”
“Yes. Being able to read and write runes means you can handle magical tools, after all.”
The bookstore owner kindly explained to her, who looked puzzled.
The current common language of the continent, runes, were revered as great symbols capable of storing mana. Naturally, commoners couldn’t read them.
At best, they might memorize a few numbers or some of the simpler, frequently used characters.
The ability to freely read and write runes? That was reserved only for the noble elite.
Even the third son of a baronial family like the owner couldn’t read all of it, so it was no surprise.
“…So they say, Lord Teo.”
“Ugh. What is this?”
‘Why are humans using dragon language?’
Teo was the one who realized the underlying reason.
It was dragons who had spread magic to humans. Naturally, they would have also passed on the optimal symbols for magic use.
Dragons could glance at magic and instinctively grasp its meaning, but for humans, runes were overwhelmingly difficult.
‘A logographic system with tons to memorize, just like Chinese characters. And the strokes aren’t even regular. They chose this as the common language? And abandoned the old one?’
He shook his head.
“They were clearly trying to maintain their power.”
“Excuse me? What does this have to do with power?”
“Well, there’s something called Latin…”
He immediately recalled a parallel.
Latin, the infamously difficult language used in medieval Europe.
What position did Latin hold?
It was the exclusive domain of the church and the nobility, utterly inaccessible to commoners.
As a result, it became one of the tools that significantly helped the ruling class maintain their power.
It was hardly surprising to find a similar phenomenon occurring in this world.
“Honestly, I bet the rulers forced this. They probably mandated that only runes be used, replacing the old scripts.”
“Why? Why would they deliberately make their own people illiterate…?”
“Because it’s easier to rule the ignorant.”
“Oh.”
Thus, the old scripts vanished.
Inferior characters incapable of holding mana disappeared, and the excessively advanced runes took over the continent.
Surely, the literacy rate among commoners plummeted.
But it’s doubtful the ruling class cared.
“And more importantly, it probably wasn’t even that hard for the ruling class. They could learn it within a few years, unlike the commoners.”
Finally, the greatest reason why such a complicated language became the common tongue:
This world’s inherent obsession with “hierarchy.”
It created an unbridgeable gap between the ruling class and the common people.
“To us, runes are absurdly simple, but those foolish, dull-witted commoners can’t even manage to learn something this easy.”
This disaster was the result of ignoring the inherent differences people were born into—like the privileges of their birth.
“I see…”
‘I memorized Hangul in ten minutes. It’s kind of pitiful.’
Lucia frowned as she heard the story.
Now that she thought about it, Hangul truly seemed like a gift from the heavens.
“…Then, Lord Theo, why did you make Hangul so simple?”
“Hmm?”
“Right now, you only have us under your command, but you’re someone destined to rule the continent. Why did you feel the need to create such an easy writing system?”
She couldn’t help but wonder.
Wouldn’t it be more convenient if the people were illiterate? Why create a writing system that was so simple and brilliant?
Wouldn’t using runes be more efficient for his rule?
Theo’s pupils narrowed vertically.
“I didn’t make it. It was created by a great monarch named King Sejong.”
“…What? You didn’t create it, Lord Theo?”
“That’s right. It was made by someone I’d love to meet if we’d lived in the same era.”
His dragon heart began to stir.
The thought of a figure he truly admired made him excited.
His transparent wings spread wide.
“And the language he created—its original name is ‘Hunminjeongeum.'”
“Hunminjeongeum? What does that mean?”
-Flap.
“‘The correct sounds for instructing the people.'”