The memory of a wizard is always excellent. Even at nearly fifty, Carlos can clearly remember his father teaching him in the topmost room of that silver-white tower during his childhood.
Under the guidance of the Morocoy, Carlos grew and unleashed his youthful nature. He had flipped through his father's variously compiled racial compendium and found the exaggerated appearances of other creatures curious and interesting. The most impressive memory was the comments written in his father's familiar handwriting.
"Currently hostile towards us."
As a child, Carlos didn't like such evaluations. He hoped to be popular and liked by everyone. Thus, the young arcanist came up with an idea.
[I want to build Morocoy into a city of harmonious coexistence among multiple races.]
"Without discrimination, it can't be eliminated."
"Without hatred, it can't be dismantled."
"As long as we respect each other and understand each other, I want arcanists to be everyone's good friend!"
