The Prairie's Relentless Predators
The moment Vesta's group finished clearing the orcs, they did not immediately turn back.
The camels they had chased off earlier had to be recaptured first.
One of the elves who had been driving the camels said that he could handle it alone, but Bia stepped forward without hesitation and began pursuing the herd herself.
It did not take long. For humans it would have felt like half a day, but they were centaurs.
Whinny! Whinny!
When the centaurs charged with full intent, even the ill-tempered camels could offer no real resistance and were driven off.
“Ah, the count matches,” Arin said cheerfully.
“Then it’s all done?”
“Yes. Thank you for your hard work.”
“No problem, no problem.”
Arin answered with bright energy.
While the centaurs continued their conversation with the elves, Vesta sat down on the ground and caught his breath.
My body aches.
He was not short on stamina, but a horse newly broken to a saddle often had no concept of caring for its rider.
He had thrown himself into the camel chase thinking he was helping, only to expend far more strength than expected.
Vesta brushed sweat-dampened hair from his forehead and waited for the wind to cool him.
Soon the centaurs who had finished talking returned.
“Now, shall we head back?”
Vesta nodded and swung back onto his horse.
“Sending the orcs away alive makes me a little uneasy.”
Arin was the one who answered Vesta’s remark.
“With our current numbers it would be hard to finish them off completely.”
Arin spoke to Vesta without any formal courtesy.
It was only natural; she was a centaur after all.
Bia and Aishil were the odd ones out; centaurs in general spoke exactly as they wished.
“Honestly, it was because of Bia. In the old days we wouldn’t have hesitated to fight.”
“Because the other side had fewer numbers.”
That was true. Bia’s solo charge had been unusual enough already.
It was not cavalry versus infantry; it was cavalry versus cavalry.
“Aren’t you going to seek revenge?”
Bia turned her upper body back.
“Don’t worry so much.”
“Exactly. She’s not the hot-tempered type.”
Aishil added in a calm voice.
“It’s said that orc blood runs cold on the prairie. That’s the way of a people who calculate every profit and loss rather than act on impulse.”
“Since I’ve already faced Bia, there’s no way I’ll dare to get close without a mind made of iron.”
“True. I’m not that great.”
Bia shrugged her shoulders.
To the centaurs, orcs did not seem like such a major threat.
“Cold blood… That cold-blooded?”
“Isn’t that the way with beasts?”
“Hmm. That makes sense now.”
Animals never willingly do anything that harms them. From that perspective, orcs’ habits even looked a little cowardly.
Whether orc or human, a small wound could still kill or cripple. And on the prairie that threat felt all the more real.
“They have concepts of fame, but honor seems strangely rare.”
“Honor? They flee like ghosts. They don’t even hesitate.”
“They hesitate at nothing. Those kinds of villains are everywhere.”
“They’re more like hunters than warriors.”
“That’s why driving out orcs is so difficult.”
“If they’d just settle in one place they’d probably start a war.”
“Their groups are closer to packs than tribes.”
How difficult these opponents are.
“Well, there are probably some orcs who aren’t like that, but it’s not worth worrying about.”
Arin laughed brightly. Though her lower half was horse, the upper half revealed a bold, sassy girl who had no equal.
With the cause of worry removed, Vesta changed the subject.
“I was truly impressed earlier, Bia.”
“Mmm~?”
A strange little hum seemed to slip in.
“Your horsemanship is truly extraordinary.”
While others watched, she had calmly ridden forward and loosed her arrows without hesitation. Her swordsmanship and courage were also first-rate.
“Bia’s single combat is superb.”
“Single combat?”
Arin gave a playful look.
“No. Miss~”
“You.”
“Heh.”
Vesta turned toward the source of the laughter. It was the calm-looking Aishil who had spoken.
Bia seemed to find the title “Miss” embarrassing. Vesta could not quite understand why.
“Why would Miss~”
“?”
Arin said as if she had suddenly understood.
“She’s Imperial. Congratulations, Miss~ You’ve finally found someone to call you that.”
“……”
“Yes. In the Empire it’s the proper way.”
Though not identical to the Empire, she was a royal knight of noble birth, so by status alone she deserved the title.
“There’s no ‘Miss’ for centaurs.”
“Ah, indeed.”
Since they spoke their own tongue, centaurs had their own language, after all.
Given their wild, rough life, it made sense that soft, gentle words like “Miss” were absent.
“But for our ‘Miss,’ she’s always said to call her that since childhood~”
“Hmm. Hmm hmm.”
Tap.
“Ouch!”
Bia stifled a cough and kicked Arin’s shin with her rear hoof.
“Wow. Really? Really?”
“Haha. That was from childhood.”
“It hasn’t changed at all! Ouch, that hurts.”
“……”
So the milk sisters really are like this.
“Hmm. Now that you mention it, it’s a bit late to say anything.”
It was obvious she was only bringing it up to steer the conversation.
“You have no fear of centaurs.”
“There’s no reason to.”
“Humans who live on the prairie usually fear us, and Imperialists see us as outsiders.”
Her words were the truth.
In the Empire, centaurs were described like orcs.
In any story, they almost always played the monster role.
[If we call them monsters, we become monsters too.]
[Those crazy horse-people again—]
Though Vesta and the Centaur Protection Association felt no sympathy.
“I’ve met centaurs before.”
“In the Empire?”
“Yes. A truly great warrior. I even received her help.”
“Imperial centaur…”
Bia nodded.
She had noticed something about Vesta’s background.
“So that’s how it was…”
“Bia?”
“No.”
Whatever the reason, Bia refused to answer.
Only after the sun had set could they return to the tribe.
The first to greet the group was Ahor.
She had been receiving reports, it seemed.
Standing with the three elves, her guard looked like her own subordinates.
All were tall; even the petite Ahor appeared almost doll-like beside them.
Of course Vesta never voiced the thought.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
Vesta dismounted and received her greeting.
“You’re a little late.”
“Not that late.”
She must think I’ve been wandering too freely for a slave.
Ahor was not that bad-tempered, but if she intended to escort him all the way home, she walked beside Vesta.
Quiet as always.
They had not been awkward with each other, yet Ahor’s naturally sparse speech made the return journey feel strangely silent.
As always, Vesta opened the conversation first.
“Today I went to hunt camels.”
“I see.”
“I wasn’t expecting anything special, but a ghost-like orc attacked.”
Ahor’s eyebrows twitched.
“Bia drove them off?”
“Yes. Aishil and Arin were there to protect me too.”
“That’s fortunate. Bia was sent precisely because she could handle such a situation…”
Ahor’s voice trailed off as she looked Vesta straight in the eye.
“Even with someone who protects you, be especially careful.”
“Is that because the Khan is worried?”
Without thinking, Vesta spoke.
Ahor frowned.
Not really; the expression had flashed by so quickly he could not be certain.
“I’m not that sharp with blades either.”
Did I make her uncomfortable for nothing?
“But that’s how it is. The Khan will worry. She won’t say it outright, but she will.”
A Khan-level person worrying about me…
It felt unreal to Vesta.
“Bia was there, so she should have been fine somehow.”
“She was stronger than I imagined.”
He wondered why centaurs had not swallowed the entire prairie.
“Among centaurs, Bia is rare in martial prowess.”
Ahor clearly held Bia’s skill in high regard. Who wouldn’t?
“Same as always.”
“…What do you mean?”
“Bia also holds your skill in high esteem.”
Vesta had meant it as praise, but to Ahor it sounded different.
Ahor gave a faint, bitter smile.
That expression had vanished too quickly.
Yet she could not ask why he had grabbed her just to force out that sad face.
Ahor spoke.
“I suppose that’s the highest praise a human can receive.”
Vesta offered no reply.
Soon they reached Vesta’s quarters.
“Rest well tonight.”
Ahor bade him farewell that way.