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... ens, then vanished.

Minor reports rolled by—border patrols noting quiet roads since the new fortified waystations (another ant innovation) deterred smugglers; the tax assessor celebrating smoother coin flow now that secret under-streets funneled bulky trade wagons beneath the clogged northern passes; the Guildmaster of Artisans requesting modest funds to repaint the public amphitheater's faded frescos. Compared to treaty wrangling, these issues felt feather-light.

Yet time flew. ...

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He began by teaching them to recognize the alphabet and then phonetics and finally began to teach them vocabulary.

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Five years later, Fang Ping opened his eyes.

He looked at the people of all races kneeling before him. It was as though a whole country had come to the royal court. There were giants, dwarfs, fox demons etc. Beside him, the sexy, stunning queen of the night elves was looking at him with a worshiping gaze. Fang Ping finally realized that he had taught them some incredible things.

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If you’re in a bad mood, beat Voldemort; if you’re in a good mood, beat Voldemort; if you’re in a bad mood, sorry, Voldemort, I’ll beat you anyway!

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