The Wolves Have Arrived (1)
The stew that night was a disaster.
In the dark of night, with only the dim light of the campfire and the stars to guide them, the ingredients were poorly prepped. The skins kept getting stuck in their teeth, and the whole thing tasted overwhelmingly of dirt.
The seasoning was far too salty, and the dried meat, not properly rehydrated, remained as hard as rock. Even though Aiden lived on sandwiches every day, he had grown accustomed to the culinary skills of the North’s finest chef, so he found it difficult to swallow even half a bowl.
“Awoooo-! How’s that? Doesn’t it sound just like a wolf?”
“Hahaha, you’re a riot!”
Watching his companions get excited and run wild after hearing the plan, he found a certain charm in the meal despite its poor quality.
‘Are they really that happy?’
If you really thought about it, this wasn't exactly a formal mission for the territorial army. It wasn't something they could talk about openly, and it was certainly nothing to be proud of. Disguising the theft of horses as the work of wolves was, if word ever got out, a surefire way to drag their reputations through the mud.
It was the kind of act that would invite scorn from the entire world, yet not a single person in the camp showed the slightest hesitation. That, in itself, was truly surprising.
This was because the power structure of the North was different from anywhere else.
There were no arrogant, self-important indigenous noble families in the North. Any family with that much power and money had long since packed up their assets and headed south to their own manors. The warriors who remained in this land of snow and ice, choosing to spend their lives with the biting northern winds, no longer needed to swing their swords for the sake of some high-and-mighty lord.
No, it would be more accurate to say that those who sought wealth and glory through their swords were no longer in the North.
“We may be broke, but we aren't without pride.”
Like the words of an actress who once famously declared this at a drinking party, the warriors who remained in the North were exactly that kind of people.
They were bundles of romance—the kind of people some would mock as fools, and others would be so proud of that it brought tears to their eyes.
The reason they readily agreed to such an absurd operation wasn't because of some grand knightly honor or pride. All they wanted was for the people behind them to spend the night without a single worry. Even if it was an act that would invite finger-pointing if revealed, as long as those standing behind them were at peace, the world’s mockery was a price they were more than willing to pay.
Besides, weren't they Northmen before they were warriors?
‘Those bastards.’
‘Damn them.’
‘I hope they go completely bankrupt this time.’
Everyone who learned why the residents of Heliath village had been forced to pick up bows instead of pickaxes, and why they were unable to plant a single seed despite having such vast, fertile land before them, was shaking with rage at the shameless behavior of the horse merchants.
To the people of the North, hunting was more than just a job. It was a blessing that kept them from starving. It was the kind of work where a father would risk his life out in the fields just to put something—anything—into the mouths of his starving children.
The moment they realized that this choice was actually forced upon them, the Northmen couldn't help but grind their teeth. The solidarity of the weak is always stronger, after all. Threatening the survival of an entire village just to raise a few horses was an unforgivable, intolerable act.
“The Groblin will join us soon.”
“You mean he’ll drive the stolen horses straight to another location?”
When Aiden nodded, the group, already embracing the spirit of a master thief, let out a cheer. If the Groblin, who could tame even wild horses in an instant, joined them, it was certain that any horse they snatched from the merchants would become their own asset the moment it was recovered.
“But let’s all keep this in mind. No greed. They are our precious guests who need to keep providing for us for a long time, like taking one potato at a time from the pantry.”
“So, don't think about killing the goose that lays the golden eggs, just keep it breathing?”
“Exactly.”
“True. After all, it’s all the wolves’ fault. Hehe.”
As Jamie mimicked the wolf’s howling again—‘Awoooo-!’—the campfire flickered violently.
“Yee-haw!”
“Whistle-!”
Thud-thud-thud-thud-.
Just as a slightly frivolous shout was heard, the ground began to vibrate.
The movement of hundreds of horses was a spectacle in itself. The crossbreeds, a head taller than the wild horses native to the North, were a breed specifically raised for their size, a favorite among knights.
These were people who drove herds of horses without a single mule mixed in.
“Let’s call it a day and head in.”
“But…”
“There’s no good in running into them.”
“…Yes.”
Those who should have been the rightful owners of this land turned away from the grasslands the moment they heard the hoofbeats of the usurpers. The ones holding their breath were the residents of Heliath. The ones driving the horses were the merchants. It was a strange relationship that had lasted for decades, perhaps even centuries. They had to stand by and hand over their own belongings without a single complaint, even as others tore through their land as if it were their own.
“Can’t find a single handful of alfalfa or a sprout of barley. Tsk!”
“Look harder. Even if they focus on hunting, didn’t they used to farm enough to feed their horses every year? They must have hidden it somewhere.”
“Ah, I don’t know! I don’t see anything!”
The merchants, having reached the lakeside, naturally set up tents in the sunniest spot and immediately chose the horses with the best stamina. It was to find the land the residents were farming.
Heliath was a village located even further north than most. Hunting was their main livelihood, but that didn't mean they had given up on farming entirely. Hunting, as always, could not guarantee a stable food supply.
“It’s about time for the barley sprouts to come up.”
“I’ll go take a lap!”
However, the farming of the Heliath residents was always a struggle. The land was fertile, but the problem was the merchants. Those horse merchants, who visited the lakeside throughout spring and summer, treated the blood-and-sweat-soaked crops of the northern residents like free horse feed, tearing through the carefully cultivated land as if they were entitled to it.
Screeeeeech-.
“Looks like they found it.”
“Let’s go. Giddy up!”
“Whoo-hoo!”
A high-pitched whistle echoed from afar. It meant they had discovered the fields the residents had cultivated.
“Gonna feast.”
“That’s why I can’t quit this place.”
“By the way, the more I see them, the stupider they are, right? They know it’s going to be a mess every time, so why do they keep struggling?”
“Because they’re literally stupid. Hehehe.”
The efforts of the residents, who had shed blood and sweat for their families, could never be seen by them. They were only filled with thoughts of fattening up the horses that had lost weight over the winter to get their money’s worth.
How long had they run? The merchants, who had pushed through the tall reeds toward the sound of the whistle, saw a field of green barley growing up to an adult’s knees.
“So they hid it in a place like this?”
“They did something cute. Hehe.”
“Looking at how the soil is tilled, they must have been hiding it for quite a few years, huh?”
“Still, it’s only a matter of time.”
Crunch, munch, crunch.
The horses had no way of knowing that the crops had name tags on them, and they began to tear into the barley that would have been ready for harvest in just a couple of months. No one cared that the residents, who had been farming in secret to avoid the merchants’ eyes, were hiding in the reeds and shedding tears of blood as they watched their fields being destroyed.
- Awooooo!
Darkness fell upon the grasslands. The merchants, who were always so triumphant, could neither move freely nor let their guard down at night.
“Didn't they say the village folks were pretty good at hunting?”
“They did.”
“Then why are the wolves howling so much?”
“My point exactly.”
During the day, they spent their time mocking the residents’ fields, and at night, they demanded accountability for things they shouldn't even have to worry about. Even while wearing human skin and spouting nonsense, their expressions remained unbothered.
“These bastards must be doing well for themselves. They should be risking their lives on hunting, yet here they are.”
The more the villagers clung to hunting instead of farming, the easier it became for them to raise horses. Because of this, one of the older merchants, who acted as the leader, stroked his beard and spat out a word.
“Tomorrow, we should burn the village warehouse once.”
“Fire?”
“Only when their food and supplies are reduced to ashes will they be forced to go out and hunt wolves to sell their hides just to put food on the table.”
“Aha. As expected of you, boss!”
“I took a peek, and it looks like they’re raising some livestock in the village too. Should we kill them all?”
“That’s good, too.”
They were planning to ruin an entire village just to force the residents to risk their lives driving away wolves in their stead.
- Grrr.
It seemed they didn't realize there was someone on the other side of the reeds, grinding their teeth as they listened to those words.
“What should we do?”
“Wait until they fall asleep, then execute the plan.”
“Yes.”
“Wait.”
Biyan and the soldiers, who had hidden their presence by wearing boar hides to mask their scent, were in the reeds. Biyan gave one more order to the soldier who was about to return to his post.
“We will complete it no matter what.”
The soldier who received the order brought his fist to his chest, his lips curling up, promising to see it through.
How much time had passed? It was a time when even the moonlight and starlight were hidden by thick clouds.
- Awooooo-!
- Uuuuuuu-!
The howling of wolves echoed from all directions. The merchants were a bit bothered by the constant howling that seemed to continue today, but—
‘What could possibly happen?’
Because they hadn't had to struggle with wild beasts for years, having sacrificed the residents’ blood instead, their relaxed minds made it all too easy to fall into a deep sleep. The fact that the fermented goat’s milk alcohol they drank in the evening was quite strong also played a part.
Squeak, squeak-.
In the darkness, a few rats with blood-red eyes moved busily here and there. They seemed to be looking for food, but they approached far too close, showing no fear of humans. The rat that approached the bedside of the fast-asleep horse merchant was, embarrassingly, as big as a human head. In the North, the person who controlled such rats was already decided.
“I can start now, meow.”
“Meow-ya, thanks to you, things are easy. Why don’t you come with me and steal horses every day?”
“If the reward is certain, I can do it, meow.”
It was the Catfolk.
“Looks like you’ve gotten close.”
“Yeah. We’re best friends now. Uhehehe.”
The Groblin, who had been full of dreams about creating the largest wild horse farm in the North.
- Is it possible to raise wild horses and crossbreeds together?
At that one letter from Aiden, he had decided to take charge of one of the pillars of this plan. He had even brought along a Catfolk friend he’d grown close to. It was because the rats controlled by the Catfolk, which were half their size, were quite clever and would be better used for herding horses than sheepdogs.
“Since it’s the first time, I was thinking of taking about thirty or forty.”
“Let’s make it exactly fifty, your highness.”
“I’m worried it’ll be too obvious.”
Aiden sought the advice of the dwarf, thinking fifty might be too much even if they blamed it on the wolves, but the dwarf was surprisingly nonchalant.
“Ah-. I thought you were trying to make it obvious on purpose.”
“Pardon?”
“If you want to make it impossible to suspect, you have to do it in a truly absurd way.”
What kind of logic was this? Aiden was momentarily speechless at the bizarre reasoning, but the dwarf, thinking Aiden was impressed by his words, laughed “Uhehehe” and continued.
“Usually, when a field is poorly destroyed, people immediately suspect Tommy next door or Kevin down the road. Because they’re competitors. But you know what? If the entire neighborhood’s fields are obliterated? Then it just becomes God’s wrath.”
“······?”
“Humans are like that. Maybe it’s because their imagination is poor, but when something illogical happens, they just give up on thinking? Us too, you know how we escaped? So, like this-.”
“Wait a minute. Let’s start with the conclusion. How many are we stealing?”
The Groblin was great, but he talked too much. He wasn't uninterested in the escape story, but there was a time and place for everything.
“Two hundred.”
“······Pardon?”
“I’ll make sure your soldiers, your highness, get to ride a horse each! Uhehehe-! Giddy up!”
“Oh, oh-!”
Before Aiden could even stop him, the dwarf rode a wild horse, which was uniquely as small as himself, and dashed toward the largest group of the horse merchants’ herd. As a signal, the knights and soldiers in the reeds began to move in unison.
Aiden could only pray that everything would go well now.