The Harvest of the Wolf
The khan had even sent someone to ask how the wolf harvest was carried out.
Orolbai laughed in a way that suggested he had just witnessed something truly astonishing.
“So, what did you think the harvest would involve?”
“Just attacking the wolf pack, I suppose. I wondered how that could possibly be called a harvest instead of a hunt.”
The khan had never imagined he would say something like that.
“Now you understand, don’t you?”
“You explained it so kindly, Khan. Unlike anyone else.”
While Vesta chatted animatedly with Orolbai, Ushun butted in.
“You talk much more than when you’re with us.”
Ushun had tagged along under the pretext of escorting Vesta.
According to herself, she was simply taking the day off in a perfectly legitimate manner.
Vesta, feeling a bit awkward, answered honestly.
“Since we’re both men, it’s only natural. After all, comfort is comfort.”
“I see. Leaving the girls behind does make one feel rather relieved.”
The comment was clearly aimed at Asmur and Aruk—especially Asmur.
“Aruk has always been a clingy fiancé, but Asmur is on another level this year.”
Rahan joined the tribe last year, didn’t he?”
“Yes. When we sent him on an expedition, we came back with a boy instead of the usual spoils. The least likely person to be captured, and suddenly there he was. The whole clan was in an uproar.”
The more Vesta learned about Rahan, the more he realized someone kept coming to mind.
Naturally, it was himself.
“Before that, the girl was as cold and sharp as ice or a blade. Who would have guessed she would turn so childish?”
Ushun clicked her tongue in displeasure.
“I can’t wait to get married either. Just like Asmur, I’d never grab my husband by the scruff but I’d still treat him well…”
“Fated encounters exist.”
“I noticed something, Orolbai.”
“What is it?”
“Fate isn’t something you wait for. It’s something you seize.”
“That story again…”
Orolbai’s face twisted, prompting Ushun to grin and say, “Aren’t you the witness? I decided to follow in your mother-in-law’s footsteps.”
Surprisingly, Orolbai didn’t scold her for bringing up her husband.
He simply shook his head, as if his head were aching.
Ushun lowered her voice.
“This man was married after being kidnapped by his much younger bride.”
“…!”
The revelation struck Vesta like lightning. He had never imagined such a situation even in Orolbai’s seemingly perfect marriage.
Orolbai…
Vesta looked at him with fellow-warrior eyes, but Orolbai looked almost horrified.
“…Don’t look at me that way.”
“He was eaten by the woman he carried on his back.”
“Exactly, you old spinster.”
“You brat…”
Ignoring Ushun’s vulgarity, Orolbai walked over to Vesta.
“We’re here.”
No tree stood in sight—only an ancient campsite. A place no horse could reach.
“From now on, we’ll walk.”
Orolbai led the group at the front.
Ushun and Vesta continued their conversation behind him.
“Is that Ushun’s main weapon?”
“Yes. It kills.”
What she carried on her shoulder was no ordinary tool.
A steppe thunder hammer. Also called a threshing flail in the imperial borderlands.
Ushun’s version was far larger and heavier than the standard model. Solid steel through and through.
“One swing and even a bull would be finished.”
“I prefer these over bows. Things with weight and a proper feel.”
A fitting weapon for Ushun’s hearty personality.
“Quiet. I’m concentrating.”
After shooting Ushun a glance, Orolbai turned his ear back.
“There they are.”
“Yeah?”
Orolbai headed toward the marked spot. It looked no different from the usual stone piles.
“Properly found. As expected of you.”
Yet Ushun and Orolbai nodded with an expression that suggested something else.
“Is this where it is?”
“Yes, Consort. This is the werewolf den.”
Vesta leaned forward to peer inside.
Ushun plopped down with a thud.
“Would you like to try reaching in?”
“…Is that safe?”
“Sometimes a mother werewolf is inside. Then one of the hands flies off.”
Vesta backed away. Ushun laughed and thrust her arm into the den.
“You’re surprisingly cautious. There’s no way something like that would happen, right?”
“Was I cut off?”
Ushun’s tone suggested it was obvious. She pulled out something with her perfectly healthy hand.
A plump bundle of dark fur. The creature inside had been curled tight, but its eyes snapped open.
“…Is that a puppy? This?”
“Surprisingly, it’s a young werewolf.”
“Those troublesome ones are actually cute at this stage.”
The sudden light in front was terrifying. The twitching pup, or rather, the young werewolf.
“Oh dear, look at it shivering. Should I just gobble it up in one bite?”
Ushun opened her mouth wide as if about to swallow it whole, but the creature squeaked and tried to escape her hand.
If Ahor had been there, she would have said it was impossible.
“Kyahaha. Adorable.”
Ushun stuffed the young werewolves into a sack.
That was the wolf harvest.
“Today’s task is to wander the area and pull these weeds out like weeds.”
“Reducing the population like this.”
“Yes. If we left them, the orcs would raise them as war beasts.”
Next was Vesta’s turn.
With Orolbai and Ushun’s help, they found the den.
“Would you like to try taking one out?”
The thought of reaching into the den because of Ushun made Vesta uneasy. He pushed his sword sheath inside and prodded.
Piiik.
No mother-werewolf howl. Vesta was certain, so he extended his arm.
“It’s surprisingly deep.”
A fluffy mass was caught in his hand. He carefully pulled it up.
“This is heavier than I thought…”
Something felt wrong. When he pulled it out completely…
“Eh? Why is it so big?”
“Oh, we got a real one.”
“Is this a werewolf?”
It wasn’t exactly wolf-like. It looked rather dim-witted.
“Of course not. This is a mamoot.”
“Mamoot…?”
Its build was completely different from the werewolf. Human-thigh height, but with a plump, obese body.
“This thing… rat or pig?”
It resembled a creature that had been tormented for years like a rat.
“Wow. You did well.”
“Is it good? It doesn’t look special.”
“This one is delicious. The finest of the finest.”
Clack. Clack. Pii.
“Oh. Its cry.”
The creature, enraged to the point of fury, began thrashing wildly.
“W-w-wow.”
“Shh. Look at this, Vesta. Hold it steady like that.”
Ushun wagged her finger and brought it toward the mamoot’s head. The mamoot, still close to Ushun’s finger, stared blankly.
Thud—?
“Stay still.”
Thud—!
A heavy smack, as if with a fist. The mamoot lost consciousness and fell into a deep sleep, tongue lolling.
“…Is it dead?”
“No, it’s not.”
Ushun reached back into the den and pulled out two more mamoot.
The mamoot trembled in pure terror.
All of them had been naturally anesthetized by Ushun’s powerful slaps.
“Luck of the draw. Luck of the draw. Vesta, how about we share one each?”
“Yes, that sounds good.”
“Ah, thank you. The effort was worth it. Truly.”
Ushun’s satisfied smile at the heavy sack showed she truly loved the treat.
Ushun gazed at the heavy sack with a satisfied smile.
“Indeed. It was worth it.”
“Ushun.”
“I know, you brat. That’s what I meant by worth it.”
At Orolbai’s words, Ushun took a deep breath and stood up.
“Ugh… ugh…”
She stretched her waist with a loud crack and relaxed her body.
“Two? Three?”
“Three.”
“Well, two or three…”
“I’ll take one, you take two.”
“What nonsense. I’m taking three, you brat.”
“Annoying. Do as you like.”
The conversation made no sense. Vesta stared at them with a puzzled expression for a moment, then Ushun spoke.
“Protect Vesta well, you weaklings.”
Ushun walked away from Vesta with heavy steps.
“Tsk. Consort, this way.”
On the slope of the hill, figures appeared.
A bow made of goat horns gleamed.
Orolbai guided Vesta behind a rock for cover.
Vesta urgently said to Orolbai, “I can join in too.”
“Yes, I don’t doubt your ability, Consort.”
“It’s the arrows, right? They hit from far away.”
The beasts had also come up the mountain on horses. Aside from the hill being occupied, the conditions were even.
“Yes, we must time it and shoot. But I doubt we’ll have the chance.”
“Really?”
Orolbai gestured with his chin. Vesta glanced over and saw Ushun still advancing.
Without running, just as usual.
With the orcs aiming their bows in front.
“This woman is Ushun of Tamugai. Consort.”
—Uurgaaryar, Albu!
Ushun spun the head of her threshing flail.
“Anyone worried about this woman in the steppe is probably only you, Consort.”
Even as the orcs released their strings.
Ushun kept advancing without stopping.