A Sapling in the Hot Spot (1)

Once a human had climbed onto one of my branches, catching them would have been trivial. I could have snared them with a moving bough, or bound them with mana. And although the water drop girl was shy around strangers, she knew how to fight.

But before resorting to anything so one-dimensional, there was something worth considering.

Would catching them come back to bite me?

They'd said they accepted a commission, which meant a client existed somewhere. If that backer turned out to be someone of high standing, picking a fight for no reason might just make trouble where there was none.

If they were a noble's employee, snatching them up meant picking a fight with a noble. Whatever bad intentions the other side had started with, it would hand them a pretext to wield power against us on a silver platter.

Worse still, this "investigator" might not be an investigator at all.

They might genuinely believe they were investigating, but from a noble's perspective, sending an obviously suspicious human and waiting for them to get caught was a classic way of manufacturing a pretext. In that case, seizing them rashly would tangle the whole situation into a knot.

Even with a suspicious human wandering about, the village hadn't moved to grab them. I'd noticed the elves being careful, too.

I'll just let them go on their way for now, and tell the village chief what they were investigating.

That beat hedging our bets while patching up the fence—better for the whole village to commit its strength to one plan.

"That's about everything I needed. Food's running low—time to head back."

The human sketched a map of the terrain and climbed down from my body. They ate a handful of the nearby fruit, stuffed more into their pouch, and set off.

Their back grew smaller in the distance.

Should I call for the village chief?

I was turning my attention away when a familiar shape appeared in front of the human.

A small beast with fluffy white fur.

The pure-white muzzle twitched and wiggled. A mana stone crunched between its teeth.

Oh! I know that rabbit!

The human pushed through the underbrush and spotted it.

"A rabbit. Perfect, I needed foo— huh?"

Their eyes locked onto the rabbit's muzzle.

Crunch—the mana stone vanished into its mouth.

"What?!"

Their eyes went round as saucers.

"The open-pit mine was real?!"

The human swallowed hard.

"F-first, evidence."

With trembling hands, they hurriedly drew a dagger.

The rabbit stopped eating and stared at them, unblinking.

The dagger rose, then flew. Its arc was aimed dead at the rabbit. The red eyes tracked the blade—and the rabbit's body tilted just slightly to the side. The dagger whizzed past and buried itself in the fallen leaves.

"Huh?"

In an instant, the white shape was gone. The rabbit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠silhouette shot upward and rammed into the human's stomach. A shockwave burst outward.

"Gwaaack!"

The human lurched, blood flying. They collapsed and rolled across the field of fallen leaves.

The rabbit landed with perfect calm.

It finished chewing its mana stone, then approached the human. Its little hind legs kicked out, scattering leaves. They rained down over the human's head in a pattering shower.

Satisfied, the rabbit hopped-hop-hopped away.

Wh-whoa. That rabbit is insanely strong.

Before long, the human coughed, hacking up blood.

"What kind of rabbit even is that?"

Tell me about it.

So the story about the rabbit's victory at the village meeting was true.

Clutching their stomach, the human rose and surveyed the ground. They gingerly picked up some powder—the remains of the mana stone. As they examined it, their eyes glazed over with greed.

"Forget some slaver company's commission. If I could report the existence of an open-pit mine to the lord of this territory alone, a title of nobility wouldn't be a dream."

I see. A tempting resource, then.

Hold it right there. That's not good news.

A will carried in words arrived, ignoring all distance.

The human staggered as though crushed under a weight.

They barely steadied themselves, then looked around in horror.

"Who's there?!"

Should I just catch them after all?

At my signal, the water drop girl who'd been secretly tailing the human moved. The mana net I'd lent her just in case unfurled across the sky.

The human's eyes widened, and the net dropped over them.

"You cowardly elves!"

Their hands flailed, shoving at the net. Its hooks caught in their clothes and tangled.

"If you want to fight, fight fair! You bow-happy savages!"

I have no idea what the severity level is, but that sounds like a very bad word. I just learned profanity that isn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even in the dictionary.

The water drop girl giggled—kyaruruk—and threw a spare net. When the reaction grew more violent, she laughed even harder and tossed another.

She looks like she's having the time of her life. Should I be worried about her future?

Then, after a while, she suddenly froze. At some point, the human had stopped reacting. The water drop girl tilted her head, flustered.

Are they playing dead?

I peered closer. The human wasn't breathing.

Uh-oh?

My gaze fell on the stomach they'd been clutching to the very end.

Ruptured organs.

The crown of creation had been defeated by a rabbit. Fatality.

Uh-oh?

"You've done some thorough investigating."

Village Chief Eldrin examined the human's belongings. When he got from the personnel analysis to the terrain map, he clicked his tongue.

"You said the client was a slave trading company?"

"Yes."

"Then that's good news."

Eldrin fell into thought.

"I've asked acquaintances in the nearby city to send regular word. I'd heard that a slave trading company planned to pass along this route in early winter. That must be the one."

Wow. This is what it takes to be a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠village chief.

"Good thing we knew in advance. I've been struggling to balance winter preparations against defense against raids, but now we can respond precisely, matched to their force size."

Eldrin hoisted the corpse onto his back, then turned to Thermia, who had been hovering curiously behind him.

"The days are turning cold, and winter will be here soon. Please help keep the tree from freezing. You can read up on tree care in my study. Hunting time will grow scarce, so I'll tell the storehouse in advance—eat from the village stores."

"Ah—yes, sir!"

Wow, so he's giving her a pseudo-important task as a natural excuse to provide food. Wintering alone as an orphan really is brutally hard.

Being a village chief truly isn't a job for just anyone.

Eldrin departed.

Thermia rose on tiptoes, watching his retreating figure.

"Is that corpse the suspicious human?"

"Yes."

"How did he die?"

How should I put this.

"The rabbit hit him."

"I'm sorry, what?"

The girl's face went blank with disbelief.

The days had grown chilly.

I hadn't felt autumn at all, but now the cold truly registered.

Along with the passing seasons, my soul had grown.

The gravestones that had stretched on endlessly finally came to an end.

A peaceful forest unfolded before me.

At the very edge of my vision, a single house blanketed in autumn leaves caught my attention.

Village Chief Eldrin sat at a table in the yard, studying a map.

Oh, so that's the chief's house.

I could see arrows drawn across the map, with words written beside them like footnotes.

A battle plan? That word... hmm, I learned it once, but I can't quite remember.

I discreetly consulted my copied dictionary.

Oh, right. A preemptive strike.

The arrows led outward from the village.

So they're planning to ambush the slave trading company first.

The operation seemed to have gone through a village meeting, because the next day Thermia came and filled me in.

"I'm assigned to stay behind and keep watch. Some of the fighters are staying too, but most are leaving, so spotting any surprise attack early and warning the village is an important job."

"You've been given a serious responsibility."

"That's right."

Thermia affirmed it solemnly.

"So, um—if it's not rude, may I keep watch from up here? The chief said it would be good for me to climb the big tree and look down."

"Fine by me. By the way, what's that in your hands?"

I saw a pigeon confined in a wooden cage.

The pigeon cooed—goo goo goo.

"He told me to make friends with it in advance. If I spot an enemy raid, I write the size of the force on a note and send it to the village."

Thermia set the cage on a rock, took grain from the small bag at her hip, and sprinkled it inside.

"Here, eat up."

The pigeon ate—goo goo goo.

"This little one is really smart. Watch this."

Thermia cleared her throat.

"If you eat one fruit out of ten, how many fruits are left?"

The pigeon cooed.

"Wow, it got it right."

"Super smart, right?"

Thermia affirmed it with the utmost gravity.

Then she seemed to realize how ridiculous she sounded and snickered—hehe.

"Anyway, now that that's settled, I'm going to practice climbing for a while."

"Good. Practicing getting down quickly matters too—work on both."

"Good point."

Time flowed on.

Before I knew it, early winter had arrived.

The clouds hung so low it felt as though, were they to touch the ground, snow rather than rain would fall.

The gentleness of spring, the splendor of summer, the richness of autumn—all had passed, and winter had come.

The autumn fruit was gone, leaving only winter grass. Half the autumn leaves had fallen, and the bare branches shyly revealed themselves.

When I looked down, a familiar neighbor came into view.

So the pink flowers are still blooming.

I had always thought of the pink flowers in connection with the yellow flower field, but perhaps that was a shallow understanding on my part. The pink flowers were simply blooming here—that was all. Even as the seasons turned.

"I made you a warming cloth!"

The girl came running.

A rolled-up cloth hung from her arms.

"Wrap it around your trunk and you won't be cold even in winter."

The cloth wound around my trunk, and the biting chill faded noticeably.

"Wow—you wove something this long all by yourself?"

"Yes!"

She nodded, then hesitated and added,

"Someone I know wove it."

Oh, I see.

"Tell her I said thank you, for me."

Gratitude owed to an elf whose face I'd never seen.

"How is it?"

"Incredibly warm. I can feel how much care the maker put into it."

"She really is amazingly skilled."

Thermia smiled fondly, then unwound the cloth.

"I'll wrap it back on after today's operation."

"Sounds good."

Hiding the cloth in the grass, the girl checked over her supplies.

"Bow, arrows, pigeon, note."

Ready.

Thermia climbed up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my trunk and settled onto the thick branch we'd chosen in advance.

"My goal is to keep the village safe until everyone comes back this evening."

A hair tie found its way between her lips. Both hands gathered the golden strands and bound them up.

"Reporting comes before fighting."

The girl slowly breathed in, then out.

"Alright."

Her gaze fixed on the forest beyond.

The watch began in the morning.

The chief had judged it safe enough to choose an ambush, but staying prepared regardless could only be a good thing.

A breeze tickled my leaves.

The world's shadows, stretched long and thin, stood up straight.

Noon came.

"Is that people?"

The girl stretched her neck and narrowed her eyes. When she started to lose her balance, I quietly propped up the branch beneath her.

"Can you see anything?"

"Five mercenaries, I think. Humans."

Whoa?

Before long, the mercenaries entered the range of my senses. Armed humans warily scanned their surroundings as they picked their way through the autumn forest.

Their voices murmured low.

"There's not even a trace of anyone here."

"Maybe it's already over?"

"Did we get here too late? Boss, this—"

"Shut it. We're close, so all of you keep your mouths shut. They might've just gotten here early."

Before I could even catch the rest, the conversation died.

Is that one the leader?

I examined the belongings hidden in their clothes. A dagger, some herbal powder, and identity tags were visible. Definitely mercenaries.

I searched through their many pouches.

In a pocket over the chest, I found a folded map. Not just any map—one covered in a long operation plan and explanatory notes.

It feels wrong to judge, but the vocabulary was awfully crude. Is this what battle-hardened mercenary language sounds like?

The terrible handwriting made it a hard read, but comparing against my practical-language dictionary, I managed to puzzle it out.

So this plan was drawn up on the assumption that the slave trading company would raid the elf village.

While the traders and the village fought, these mercenaries would slip in from behind, grab people, and flee.

There was even a contingency: if their timing missed the raid, they'd pose as lost mercenaries.

Given how vague the trading company's side of the plan was, they probably weren't working for the traders—just mercs who'd overheard the raid plans and come hoping to cash in.

Every kind of scoundrel shows up, doesn't it?

I checked everything from the mercenaries' armaments to their belongings and identity tags.

"Here's what we've got."

"Understood!"

A long report flew onto the note, stroke after stroke.