Originally, Dion was not a rich manor. There were no expansive tracts of farmland. With the exception of Mandragora, there was no unique local product. Mandragoras were mainly bought by Wizards, Shamans, or Herbalists. Considering the risk of growing it, the amount of profit the crop generated was not much. The Mandragoras' blood was wildly strewn by Duke Byron Ashton. The lord of the manor considered them only a source of headache rather than an asset of any value. Since trade with nearby manors or other countries was mainly done through Giran Harbor in the south, it was hard to expect much profit.

As a Human, Duke Byron Ashton was a terrible failure. Others said the worst mistake he ever made was believing he could improve the finances of his castle and manor by squeezing the poverty-stricken farmers. The farmers fought hard against him by rising up, armed only with rakes, hoes, sickles, and pitch forks. The duke ruthlessly executed the rioting farmers with spear, sword and guillotine. When the number of farmers he could exploit dwindled, the Duke even tried to sell his daughter to King Amadeo Cadmus.

Around that time, the era of chaos began, and people who dreamt of war came to Dion. They were thugs who had no loyalty to any country or manor. They overflowed with lust for power and uncontrollable ambition. It was not long before one of them beheaded Duke Byron Ashton and took over his castle.

Even if a goblin were crowned and danced upon the throne, the farmers of the manor would have been so happy they would have hugged each other and wept with joy. They enthusiastically welcomed the arrival of the new lord of the manor. However, when the era of war began, or even after it ended and the Age of Splendor began, the residents' pockets did not get heavy overnight. Dion was still a poor manor where downtrodden residents lived.

The new lord of the manor firmly resolved to raise adena. He started a construction project to build a strange looking building in a vacant section of the village. Then he dispatched mercenaries and soldiers everywhere to catch monsters. After that, the only thing to do was to tame the captured monsters.

"Go, Wind Rider, go! Try harder! Faster, faster!"

The Monster Race Track was crowded with many people. Every movement the monsters made, the crowd reacted, either with joy or sorrow. Along with the names of unknown gods, all sorts of blessings and curses spilled from their mouths. But the amount of adena they so willingly used for their bets gave Dion manor and its residents some hope of escaping the poverty long inherited from previous generations.

"Go! Go! Go! That little rabbit can't catch up with you! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

With the winner decided, surging throngs moved wildly, like waves in a high wind. Some of them tore up and threw down their worthless tickets, while others cheered and hugged whoever happened to be nearby. Some of them suppressed smiles, hiding their joy from others, while secretly checking the numbers on their tickets again and again.

Martien, the owner of the South Sea Store, was one of those who jumped about until finally knocking down the person he was embracing. Then he ran to cash in his ticket, cautiously avoiding the scrutiny of others.

"Congratulations, Mr. Martien."

The race manager smiled and casually checked Martien's ticket. From this winning, the race track had to actually give out a significant sum of money. But her face showed no displeasure. Not because she didn't care if her organization suffered a loss. The profits the race track made were significant enough that they could treat Martien's prize money as only a minor write-off.

"My eyes met the eyes of the unicorn in the paddock and my heart almost stopped beating!"

"Really? Why?"

"Because her eyes looked like my mother's eyes."

She laughed aloud, and then her facial expression seemed to imply, "How silly." She handed him a sizable bag of coins.

"After deducting taxes, your prize comes to 328,000 adena. Please double-check the amount and sign the receipt."

When he did not quickly reach his hand out to receive the bag, she looked at him with a puzzled expression. Martien took two steps back and looked up at the racing timetable dreamily. A moment later, he spoke again to the race manager, his voice filled with excitement.

"Look!" He raised his finger and pointed to the bulletin board, although it couldn't be seen from where she was sitting. "It says right there that in the next race the odds are 204 times. What does that mean? My mother - I mean, Wind Rider is running in this race, correct?"

While organizing race tickets into bundles, she briefly answered, "That's because it will lose for sure."

"What?"

With a sudden glimmer in her eyes, she started to speak. "Think about it. It's a double to win, right? But you cannot win. Cyclone Thunder, in the third lane, is a great prospect that has been very popular lately. In addition, lane two, six, seven and eight - I'm sorry to say this about your mother - but their level is way beyond hers. I think somebody made a mistake to include such a sluggard. Although I shouldn't say this out loud, the odds of her winning the race would be..." She used her thumb and index finger to show Martien, "not even this much."

Martien, whose face had gradually turned red, retorted with an anger-filled voice. "Hey! You're out of line talking about my mother like that!"

"Why are you raising your voice? I was just telling you what other people are saying. Please calm down, Mr. Martien."

With that, she calmly went back to work, sorting the race tickets.

"There is no guarantee that she will always lose. She seems to be in good condition today. When I saw her eyes earlier today, they were burning up with firm resolve to win, no matter what! I believe she will surprise us with her performance in the next race!"

The race manager replied, "What's the point of deciphering the eyes of an ant larva? Mr. Martien, you're Human, aren't you?"

"Be quiet! Because of your nonsense, it has now become clear to me! I have made up my mind that today will be a very special day for me, one that will completely turn my life around!"

For a moment, Martien looked up at the sky above the race track. Like bubbles in a sewer hole, clouds started to gather, blocking the sun. When the wind began to blow in the forest surrounding the race track, leaves of grass flew up in the air with a soothing, calm breeze. For a very brief moment, totally isolated even from the noise of the race track, Martien was gripped by the notion that he was looking directly at something absolutely unchangeable. Martien decided that when he looked back at this moment later in his life, he would call it the Time of Revelation.