The Wolf Has Appeared (2)
Hiiiiiing.
It was a night when even the horses should have been fast asleep.
However, the lead horse, guiding a herd of over two hundred, was far too busy pacing back and forth, its nerves frayed by the unfamiliar, pungent scent carried on the wind. It moved quietly, ensuring the mares and foals remained calm, while keeping the few stallions that helped lead the massive herd on high alert.
Rustle.
Just then, it spotted ears twitching in the bushes a fair distance from the herd.
What is it?
It didn’t smell like a predator.
The lead horse stood frozen, staring into the thicket for a long time. Even if it wasn't a beast of prey, it had no intention of approaching something it couldn't identify.
Whoosh.
As if on cue, the wind shifted in the lead horse's favor. When the scent of the intruder in the bushes reached its nostrils, the horse’s eyes widened.
Ah, a delicious smell!
The lead horse found itself drooling before it even realized it.
“Want some?”
Emerging from the bushes with a nonchalant air, riding a small wild pony, was a Groblin holding a handmade meatball slightly larger than a child’s fist.
“Here, catch!”
Chomp!
The lead horse, unable to help itself, caught the meatball thrown from afar and bit down in one go. It wasn't the kind of behavior a cautious horse would normally exhibit, but the intoxicating aroma was so overwhelming that it abandoned its instincts, fearing that if it didn't swallow it immediately, it would lose the chance.
“There, there. Good boy.”
After eating the Groblin’s special meatball, the horse felt the world beginning to spin.
Hiiiiiing.
It shook its head vigorously, but the world continued to swirl. It tried to gag, wondering if there was something wrong with the meatball, but—
“Would I give you something bad to eat? I just want to be friends with you.”
The moment it heard the small human-like voice again, the urge to vomit vanished.
‘Hehehe.’
The dwarf, the future owner of the North’s largest horse farm, grinned from ear to ear, satisfied to see his hypnosis working perfectly. ‘As expected, animals raised by humans lose their instincts so easily. They’re so easy to lure.’
This wasn't good for the horses, either. It couldn't be helped. He had no choice but to take them and raise them properly. The dwarf truly believed this. Therefore, this wasn't theft—it was a rescue mission for the horses.
While the Groblin was effortlessly leading the horses away, the Northern knights and soldiers began their operation.
Splatter.
“Ugh...”
“Shh.”
“S-sorry!”
The youngest soldier covered his mouth as the foul, fishy stench sprayed everywhere. The thick blood, stored in sheep-gut canteens, still held a faint warmth, making it natural for those unaccustomed to such work to feel a visceral repulsion. Even worse, the blood being splattered across the field was a murky green—the blood of a monster, not a beast.
“Be careful not to get it on your hands. Even in small amounts, it’s poisonous.”
“...Yes, sir!”
Thump, thump, thud.
“No, not like that. You have to press down with more force to leave a clear mark. You saw the size of the Giant Wolf, didn't you?”
“Like this?”
“Yes! That’s it. And widen the stride.”
“Around here, make it look like it leaped once...”
“You’re doing great!”
Nearby, the soldiers worked in perfect harmony, using pre-made wooden molds to stamp tracks into the dirt, mud, and bushes.
“They’re cautious creatures, so we don’t need to make too many.”
Scritch. Crack.
Beside the soldiers, Vian was using claws fitted over his fists instead of a sword, carving deep gouges into the trees, mimicking the way a feline predator would mark its territory to show off its strength.
Meanwhile, the Cat-folk’s pet mice were diligently carrying out their master’s orders. They were tasked with keeping the remaining hundred or so horses—those not already led away by the dwarf—from sleeping by flashing their red eyes and inducing panic.
With their herd-mates having vanished into the darkness and these monstrous mice acting as if they were about to leap onto their backs and sink terrifying fangs into their necks, the horses had no choice but to whinny in terror all night long.
“Why are the horses acting like that today?”
After arriving at the lake following a long journey, the horse merchants had been enjoying a deep sleep, but the constant whinnying woke them up. However, thanks to the alcohol they’d been guzzling all evening, it was difficult for them to even lift their bodies.
Awoooooo!
Just then, a wolf’s howl echoed from nearby.
“Damn it. Looks like the wolves finally came down.”
“...Should we have the workers chase them off?”
“Forget it. They’ll quiet down once they drag off an old, sick horse or two. Let’s just sleep.”
For merchants traveling with hundreds of horses, tossing one or two to the wolves wasn't much of a loss. After all, the wolves weren't targeting the healthy, expensive horses; they were going for the weak, unmarketable ones.
“Let’s make sure the barbarians in the nearby villages go out hunting wolves tomorrow. It’s too noisy to sleep.”
“Heh heh.”
Predicting a raid, the merchants forced themselves back to sleep.
“...Huh?”
The price of complacency was harsh. A worker, emerging to prepare breakfast while clutching his throbbing, hungover head, could only stare blankly at what used to be the campsite, muttering to himself, “Is this a dream? It has to be a dream. It must be a dream...”
Two hundred horses, ready to be sold, had vanished without a trace.
The merchant’s body trembled. He wanted to deny it as a dream, but his grasp on reality was slowly returning.
“Uh... Uh...!”
Screaming a wordless cry, the worker ran to the meadow that had been full of horses just last night, only to stop dead in his tracks and begin to retch.
“Bleeegh!”
All over the horse encampment, there were vivid, sticky, fishy-smelling green bloodstains. The marks of a monster, designed to stimulate a human’s primal fear.
Shudder.
As the worker emptied his stomach of the previous night’s alcohol and snacks, he suddenly wondered if the monster was still lurking in the bushes, and his entire body broke out in goosebumps.
“Ugh... Ugh...”
Perhaps because he was fixated on it, the disgusting smell of blood seemed to grow stronger. As he backed away, his foot hit something heavy.
Thump.
The worker’s head slowly turned, and—
“...Ugh, ugh, AAAAAAAH!”
The worker, having fallen over in a pathetic heap, couldn't even think to stand up properly, flailing his limbs and scrambling through the dirt and bushes. What had caught his eye was the massive carcass of a wolf, easily one and a half times the size of a grown man.
At the worker’s sudden scream, the merchants, still dazed with sleep, crawled out of their tents one by one.
“What’s going on?”
“Really, first thing in the morning...”
“We were finally getting some rest, who the hell is it!”
The veterans, annoyed at having their rest disturbed, emerged growling, ready to make whoever it was pay if it wasn't anything serious—but they soon stood with their mouths agape, staring at one another.
“...Giant Wolf.”
“Then the wolf howls we kept hearing last night weren't just a pack of wolves...”
“...The horses! What about the horses! Damn it, XX!”
“...We have to contact the horse owner, what else are we supposed to do?”
“Who doesn't know that? I’m worried about whether he’ll let me live or not!”
Why the monster wolves had crossed over from the mountains to the lakeside was a mystery, but more important was the disappearance of the two hundred large horses.
“There are four carcasses of Giant Wolves in their prime.”
“Looking at the tracks and the blood, there’s clearly at least ten of them.”
“Territorial dispute?”
The merchants, having gathered the bloodstains and monster wolf carcasses, reached the most plausible conclusion. The monster wolves had happened to come down near the lake while fighting over territory, and the herd, startled by the scent of predators, had fled in a panic.
“We have to track them.”
“The wolves?”
“The horses, you idiot!”
Since there were no horse carcasses, it was clear they had been frightened and run off somewhere.
“We just need to track them down quickly and bring them back.”
For merchants who roamed the Great Plains as if it were their own private property, retrieving stray horses wasn't a difficult task.
“We have to recover them before the wolves get to them.”
“And if we can’t find them...?”
“We’ll all lose our heads to the horse owner.”
“......”
“What are you doing! Move, now!”
The horses’ tracks led west. That is, toward the center of the North.
“Yee-haw!”
“Giddy up!”
The merchants spurred their horses to maximum speed. They hoped that since a large herd wouldn't be able to move very fast, they could catch their tails before noon.
But to their dismay, no matter how hard they rode, the two hundred horses were nowhere to be seen—as if they had vanished into thin air or been swallowed by the earth. They could see the tracks of constant movement, but it was maddening.
After days of scouring the area for the missing horses’ tracks, the merchants eventually had to reach one conclusion.
“...Thieves.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. Who would dare steal horses from the Ma family?”
“A large group is moving in perfect order! Does this look like stray horses to you?”
“That’s...”
The merchants, riding with a sense of unease, finally had to dismount.
“...I can’t see them.”
“The tracks have completely vanished.”
Before a river that wasn't particularly wide, the tracks of the herd simply stopped. The veteran merchant’s reason snapped along with them.
‘Someone intervened.’
The merchant, who had been organizing his thoughts while riding frantically, realized the truth. ‘The first time might have been a coincidence, but someone greedy saw a herd of ownerless horses.’
He hadn't thought everything was planned from the start. He had assumed no one would dare covet the Ma family’s horses. Excessive arrogance often contaminates the evidence.
“Someone greedy for a herd of horses. A place that needs horses... A place that wants horses...”
And at the same time, someone in the North who could move horses around.
“...The Lord’s Castle?”
There was only one answer.
“Crazy bastard.”
Grind.
With the sound of grinding teeth, their next destination was set.
“We’re going to the Lord’s Castle!”
If his guess was correct, he had no intention of letting it slide. Even if it wasn't a real noble, a mere paper-pusher sent as a deputy lord would surely tremble at a single glare.
“......”
But it was the merchants who were trembling.
“So, you’re saying I’m a horse thief.”
The deputy lord, whom they thought they could easily intimidate with a few words, was a man as cold as ice, his true intentions impossible to read.
“T-that’s not what I meant...”
“Should I shoot them?”
“If you want to pin this on those so-called monster wolves, wouldn't it be better to just tear them to pieces?”
“Truly wise, Administrative Officer.”
Even the man beside him, spouting such gruesome threats, was spewing such ignorant nonsense that it was hard to tell if he was a knight or a mercenary. The merchants, facing the North’s deputy lord, realized something had gone terribly wrong.
Local lords and nobles usually groveled before the Ma family’s merchants. But this insane, commoner-born Administrative Officer wasn't bowing down—he was openly threatening them.
The way he kept idly touching the bow lying next to his chair made it look like he was genuinely restraining himself from shooting them.
‘He’s a madman.’
Greedy people are easy to handle. So are authoritative ones. Good people are easy to fleece, and if they were stupid, he was confident he could swindle them down to their distant relatives. But a madman?
‘...XX.’
A madman who has nothing to lose but holds a fistful of power. And since he had no intention of negotiating and was just radiating hostility, there was no way for the conversation to continue.
“A-are you truly saying you have nothing to do with this?”
“I told you, yes.”
“The tracks of two hundred horses were clearly heading this way!”
“You said they stopped, didn't you?”
“But under the circumstances...”
“Ah, circumstances. I quite like those. Circumstances. For example—yes, like the traces of an outsider who greedily picked and ate mushrooms blooming in the spring and threw away their precious life.”
“......”
“Come to think of it, circumstances are quite convenient. As long as they look plausible, they become the truth.”
“...It is the truth that the horses have disappeared.”
“So?”
“They were horses already promised for trade by the Ma family. There will be trouble.”
“Ah, do I need to worry about a party I wasn't even invited to?”
Aiden chuckled and leaned back in his chair.
“The North will be suspected.”
“Why?”
“Because the North needs horses.”
“Do we?”
“You didn't receive an invitation from the Ma family, did you.”
“We have a wild horse farm. We were supplied with fifty horses just recently.”
“......”
The merchant was struck dumb by Aiden’s words.
“We don’t need any more horses right now. Unless it’s Lontes, who has locked their gates and is waging war against their own vassals.”
“...Excuse me?”
The merchant’s eyes widened at Aiden’s words. ‘What is he talking about?’ Lontes was one of the few Northern territories that had managed to maintain a decent city-like appearance.
“Ah, you must be out of the loop because you’ve been busy raising horses. It’s a total mess over there right now. To live or to die—that is the question.”
Then, Aiden laughed, pfft. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes remained cold and sunken.
“Well, we’re hoping for it to end quickly, whatever happens. The North has quite a few contracts tied up with the merchants from Lontes.”
The merchant gained a new hint about the horse thief from Aiden’s words. Of course, it was a trap.