Repaying Kindness (2)
Watching the dragon crunch through solid mithril as if it were a bag of potato chips got me thinking: sooner or later, an accident was bound to happen.
To Tyrano, a playful nip was just an affectionate gesture. To any normal creature of flesh and bone, that same gentle chomp would tear away a fistful of meat in an instant. With how often Tyrano and Wonmo roughhoused, the odds of a disaster were sky-high. Wonmo had at least grasped the concept of pulling his punches after tussling with the raccoons, but Tyrano hadn't learned that lesson yet. For everyone’s safety, I needed to recalibrate his bite force right away.
“Tyrano. Bite down right here.”
“Ppi?”
With the little dragon perched on my shoulder, I pointed a finger at my forearm. Tyrano tilted his head, staring intently at the spot I’d singled out, appearing surprisingly focused.
“Gently, until I say it hurts. Understand? Like this—nom!”
I mimed taking a tiny nibble on my own arm. Tyrano’s head cocked the other way, his reptilian eyes blinking in puzzlement. Plain words clearly weren’t going to cut it; this required a hands-on demonstration. Biting as a sign of affection was fine, but his jaw strength was downright absurd. Before someone ended up in pieces, he had to learn how to measure his grip. He needed to mimic me and engrave that restraint into his instincts.
“Ppii!”
Seemingly catching my drift, Tyrano broke into a sunny dragon grin and snapped his jaws shut around my forearm.
Crunch!
“Gaaaaaah! No! No, not like that! Stop! Let go, let go!”
“Ppi-ppi?!”
The instant his teeth clamped down, my radius and ulna creaked on the verge of snapping like dry kindling. I waved my free hand in a frantic panic. Startled by my bloodcurdling screech, Tyrano recoiled immediately, retreating several paces with wide, apologetic eyes.
When I inspected my arm, a pair of deep, crimson indentations sat gouged into the skin.
How the hell did that only leave marks? By all rights, his teeth should have sheared straight through the bone.
While the bone hadn’t splintered, a gnarly, dark bruise was already blossoming beneath the flesh. I’d probably need to draw some Elixir into a syringe and inject it directly into the muscle before long.
“S-See that? That’s how strong you are. Which means you can never, ever bite your friends that hard. Got it?”
“Ppiii…”
“Hey, it’s alright. It’s okay. Mistakes happen. Come on, let’s try it again.”
Through patient, steady repetitions, Tyrano picked up force control in record time. Given his inherent dragon intellect, once he understood the objective, mastering the execution took hardly any effort at all.
Now that accidental amputations were off the table, only one pressing headache remained.
How am I going to manage the food supply?
With so many new mouths around the shelter, our provisions were dwindling fast. Largo could get by browsing on fresh tree boughs and leaves, but the rest of the crew weren't so simple.
Every single one of them is a bottomless pit.
To make matters worse, winter was knocking at the door. I had to stockpile a mountain of provisions to survive the impending freeze. The quintessential winter survival crop was potatoes. I’d already obtained seeds from Grow Big and Strong, so all that was left was getting them into the tilled dirt.
…Should I try making kimchi for the winter?
The fleeting, ridiculous thought crossed my mind, but I brushed it aside almost instantly. Kimchi-making in the middle of a primeval forest? Ridiculous. I rarely even ate the stuff back home anyway.
In times like these, browsing the Gallery was always the smartest move. If I couldn't find a solution in the archives, I could simply ask around.
Oh… Bread is actually an option?
Winter food ideas turned up without much trouble. Beyond the salted, smoked meat and pickled vegetables I’d already put away, forum users recommended staples like rice and wheat as prime candidates for surviving the cold months. Both stored exceptionally well as long as they were kept in a cool, dry place.
I figured I’d consult Grow Big and Strong first. If he didn't have what I needed, I could always trawl the auction house for viable seeds.
Aside from those, there’s cabbage, spinach, radish, and more potatoes, but…
Hoarding too many varieties would only invite chaos when it came to storage management.
Let's get through this winter on three core pillars: wheat, potatoes, and sweet potatoes. Which means…
I needed to figure out how to harvest and process wheat. Rather than spending hours digging through ancient forum threads, asking Grow Big and Strong directly felt like the quickest route.
Originally, I’d entertained grand ambitions of baking rustic loaves of bread. But after hearing the detailed process, I abandoned the dream on the spot. The sheer volume of labor was downright absurd. Hand-pulled noodles were a hundred times less troublesome than bread. Even milling the grain into usable flour would take an eternity.
Come to think of it, society has professional bakers, but nobody hires a 'professional rice-cooker.'
Because making rice at home every day had always felt so effortless, I’d naively assumed baking bread would be similar. Yet, just as pounding rice into chewy rice cakes was an excruciating chore, bread carried that exact same level of fuss. With that realization, I shifted gears from wheat over to rice.
Since Grow Big and Strong didn't have rice paddies in stock, I decided to seek out someone else.
The Heavenly Demon should do the trick, right?
The Central Plains was rooted in classic wuxia Murim; the odds of them having plenty of rice were virtually certain. After sending some rich topsoil over to Grow Big and Strong as courtesy, I sent a direct message to the Heavenly Demon.
With rice seeds secured for the near future, my immediate priority was processing the wheat already on hand. To dry wheat, it first had to be threshed, and stripping the kernels by hand was an exhausting ordeal. A proper threshing tool wasn't a luxury; it was a mandatory investment, especially since we'd be harvesting rice soon enough.
Threshing is one thing, but winnowing and dehulling are another… Did traditional farmers really do all of this by hand?
A fresh wave of heartfelt reverence for historical farmers welled up in my chest. I opened the auction house interface to scour the listings for threshing tools and grain strippers.
Wait, isn't this just a giant comb?
One listing showed an old-fashioned iron comb stripper—essentially an array of thick, closely set metal teeth. I purchased the item and pulled it from my inventory to inspect it. It was about the size of a human head, forged entirely from blackened iron.
You wedge the grain heads into these teeth and yank them through, right?
The operational logic was dead simple. That left only one question: who was going to do the hard labor?
Ludwig, obviously. Before putting him to work, I spread clean canvas across the flat stone ground. Next, I set a wooden stool along the edge and firmly anchored the iron stripper on top.
“Alright. Time to get to work.”
“Mmh.”
Rattle-clatter!
We slotted the dense wheat stalks into the narrow iron comb and pulled hard. Golden, plump kernels rained down in a satisfying cascade against the cloth.
Lick, lick.
“Whoa, whoa! Tyrano, stop! You can’t eat raw grain!”
“Ppii?”
I barely managed to intercept the little hatchling before he could lap up a mouthful of wheat. After that close call, we threw ourselves into threshing the rest of the harvest with relentless focus.
Once all the kernels were separated, we gathered them onto large trays and set them out in the sunniest clearing around the campsite. Spreading them out thin, like red chili peppers drying in a village courtyard, would get the moisture out fast. Naturally, I didn't forget to spray a perimeter of homemade pest repellent around the perimeter.
Birds… shouldn't be an issue, right?
The local avians had long since cleared out of the territory, terrified by Tyrano’s apex presence. As long as the little dragon lingered nearby, not a single feather would dare flutter down.
While the grain baked under the midday sun, there was plenty more to do.
“Ludwig, sir. I’m heading out on a quick patrol.”
“Mmh.”
It was a scouting run, but also an excuse to hunt. Ludwig was more than capable of holding down the fort. Between the former holy knight and Ggobongi, the campsite was fortress-grade secure. Ggobongi was currently sweating up a storm over the threshing comb himself, working diligently. After all, man could not live on bread and rice alone through the bitter winter; we needed meat, and lots of it.
Originally, I had intended to leave Tyrano at camp.
“Ppiiii! Ppiiii!”
“I told you, I'm only going for a little bit!”
“Ppii! Ppiii-eeek!!”
The moment I took a step toward the treeline, he clamped onto my pant leg, crying out in protest. Don't leave! If you’re going, take me too! The hatchling possessed uncanny leverage for his size, clinging on with stubborn, ironclad determination.
Left with no choice, I agreed to bring him along. The only slight complication was that the Fast Tree Sloth was already occupying my back, snoozing contentedly.
“Do you really have to perch right there?”
“Ppii!”
“Fine, suit yourself. Don't blame me if you get jostled.”
Tyrano curled up atop my head, settling into my hair like an oversized scaley nest. It added a noticeable weight to my stride, but it wasn't unmanageable. Having him on my scalp was infinitely better than letting him wander into the brush and get lost. Besides, his elevated vantage point quickly paid unexpected dividends.
“Ppi.”
Tyrano lifted his snout, giving a sharp, low chirp while pointing his snout forward. His posture made it abundantly clear: something was lurking just ahead.
A little skeptical, I crept through the thick foliage in the direction he indicated.
“Oink.”
Whoa…
There was a wild boar.
Not just any boar, either—a titan that could rival a city bus in sheer mass. It was a beast ripped straight out of a monster movie, complete with a pair of wicked, ivory tusks curving up like scythes.
…Didn't I run into something like this back in the army?
The memory flashed fresh in my mind. Back during my service, while out on a field detail, an enormous mountain boar had sauntered out of the brush. There had been a military jeep parked right next to it, and the sheer mass of the hog had made the vehicle look like a compact toy.
“OIIIIINK!!!”
This beast, however, was vastly larger than that military memory, and it launched itself straight at me. Having anticipated the charge, I shifted my weight, preparing to dart sideways—
“PPIAAAAAAAK!!!”
From atop my skull, Tyrano unleashed an adorable, high-pitched screech.
It had worked on common birds, but against a mountain-sized boar? I had my doubts.
“Squeal?!”
Skrrrrrrr!
It worked. In fact, it worked spectacularly.
The moment the dragon’s battle cry echoed off the trees, the boar’s eyes bugged out, and all four hooves locked up, skidding violently across the dirt like a runaway truck slamming on the emergency brakes. Whether it recognized the screech of a dragon hatchling or was paralyzed by primeval instinct didn't matter. What mattered was that a golden opening had landed right in my lap.
I lunged forward, wasting not a fraction of a second.
Crunch!
The Heavenly Demon's Sword drove cleanly into the center of the beast’s forehead. The blade reduced its brain matter to mush in an instant. The massive boar shuddered in violent spasms for a brief second before collapsing limp onto the forest floor.
Thuuuum!
The colossal carcass hit the earth with enough force to send a localized tremor rippling through the soil. Exhaling a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, I stared down at the felled titan.
With a beast this big, its meat alone could carry us through a significant chunk of the winter. Of course, that meant building a substantially larger cold storage room. Fortunately, my ice supply was practically bottomless.
“…Not bad, kid. You’re pretty incredible, aren't you?”
“Ppii!”
When I scratched beneath his chin in praise, Tyrano puffed out his scaled chest and tilted his snout proudly to the sky. He was practically shouting, Look at me! See what I can do! The sheer pride on his tiny face was hopelessly endearing.
I retrieved a thick coil of heavy hemp rope from my pack and bound the boar’s legs securely. Carrying a monster of this scale on my shoulders was completely out of the question, so dragging it along the ground was the only viable option.
Even dragging it… this thing weighs a ton.
Given its sheer bulk, that was unavoidable. Still, every drop of sweat now was meat on the table for the winter. Just to be safe, I set Tyrano atop the boar's flank to serve as a lookout. The Forest of Four Seasons was crawling with scavengers and opportunistic thieves; leaving the rear unguarded was asking for trouble.
“Kkyu?”
When I finally hauled the massive quarry back into the clearing, Wonmo, freshly awakened from an afternoon nap, waddled over to greet us with drowsy curiosity. Ludwig and Ggobongi were still steadily working through the wheat sheaves.
A short scout had yielded an astronomical harvest.
“Sir Ludwig! You know how to butcher large game, right?”
“#%$#.”
“Come give me a hand with this, please.”
Tackling a beast this enormous alone would consume the entire day. In fact, given the sheer dimensions of the carcass, I wasn't even sure I could process it properly by myself. Thankfully, Ludwig seemed thoroughly versed in the butchering arts. Having spent decades on grueling campaigns across wild territories, living off the land was likely second nature to a holy knight of his standing.
“One, two! Pull!”
“Hup!”
“Kku-ung.”
Even with ample preparation, the initial setup was brutal, bringing back memories of the saber-toothed tiger. Proper field dressing always began by hanging the quarry upside down to drain the blood efficiently. The problem was that the boar was so absurdly heavy that hoisting it up into the canopy seemed nearly impossible.
That was where Largo came in. The giant giraffe possessed terrifying physical power, effortlessly hauling the carcass up to the desired height using the rope looped over a reinforced branch. He was, for all intents and purposes, a living crane. I’d never imagined he would be deployed for industrial butchery, but he performed the task flawlessly.
Drip, drip, drip…
While the dark blood drained steadily from the suspended titan, I set to work constructing the meat locker. It wasn't an elaborate stone Seokbinggo, but rather a functional, deeply insulated cold-storage shed. It wasn't meant for tools or miscellaneous gear—only food would be stored inside. Since my innate abilities allowed me to conjure an essentially infinite supply of dense frost and ice, success hinged entirely on how well I managed thermal insulation.
Gotta build it so internal heat vents outward cleanly… Wait, we’re out of fine sand already?
You secure one resource, and you immediately need another; solve that shortage, and a third material runs dry. It felt like an endless loop of domestic chores, but that was just the reality of frontier living. It was one thing when I survived alone, but as our little family grew, the material demands multiplied accordingly.
We have daylight left. Better pick up the pace, though.
I jogged down to the lower riverbank to shovel sacks of river sand, hurried back to reinforce the storage walls, layered clay and straw against the inner partitions to trap the cold, and then rushed back over to assist with the butchering. I would have loved to delegate the skinning to Ggobongi, but the big guy was a gorilla; his thick, leathery hands weren't suited for delicate knife work like separating hide and fat.
Craaaack!
Once the dressing reached a solid milestone, I packed dense slabs of magically sustained ice into the newly finished storage room. Once the frost stabilized, we hauled in the butchered boar meat, followed by the dried grains, root vegetables, and every scrap of edible provisions we possessed.
We’ll hang heavy canvas over the entrance for now. There's no time to frame and hang a wooden door today.
By the time the final bundle was stowed away, the sun was casting long amber shadows across the forest floor. It was half past four in the afternoon. If I’d tackled this alone, I wouldn't have finished before midnight. Having reliable hands around made all the difference in the world.
“Incredible work today, Ludwig. Ready to wash up?”
“Mmh.”
I hauled large buckets of heated water for Ludwig, who had undoubtedly shouldered the heaviest burden today. While I was at it, I planned to scrub down Ggobongi and the rest of the menagerie as well. Surprisingly, Ggobongi handled his own hygiene with remarkable independence; once I set out a basin of warm water and a scrub brush, the gorilla washed himself from head to toe without prompting. Largo only needed a good brushing and a wipe-down with warm wet towels. Which left only Tyrano…
“PPIIIIIII! PPI-EEEK!”
“Come on, what's the matter with you? Do you hate water that much?”
“Ppii! Ppii! Ppiii-eeek!”
The little dragon hissed and scrambled backward, his claws flailing in absolute outrage like a terrified housecat dodging a tub. But hygiene was non-negotiable in the wilderness. He had to be scrubbed down. Even without fur, there was no telling what kind of microscopic forest mites or parasitic ticks might be burrowing between his scales.
“If you don't take a bath, no dinner for you tonight. Got it?”
“Ppiii-ing…”
The instant food was held hostage, the mighty dragon slumped his shoulders and surrendered to the warm suds, docile as a lamb.
Another peaceful, exhausting day drew to a close.