Katon Village
Kueet! Kuuuut!
Kurti followed Isilite’s lead into the stables without protest, but Emergency Food flared his tail feathers and lowered his beak in a clear threat, as if declaring, If you want to shove me in here, you’ll have to fight me first!
Isilite was dumbfounded by the rebellion, yet she forced a smile onto her face. The landlord Kantwi was watching, along with the butler, several maids, and even the other guests staying as lodgers. A public squabble with Emergency Food would only damage her master’s dignity.
“Oh, come on. What’s the matter? Don’t make a scene out here—just go inside and we can talk…”
Squaaawk!!
She had spoken gently, but Emergency Food snatched the reins from her hand with a sharp yank and crab-walked away from the stable entrance, broadcasting loud and clear that he would never set foot inside.
“….”
“My, my. It seems the green Kue finds the stables not to his liking.”
At last the butler who had guided them this far spoke up. A flush of shame scorched Isilite’s cheeks, as though her own disgrace had been pointed out for all to see.
“M-Master raised him with such affection since he was a chick. He only recently reached his third growth stage, and he simply doesn’t want to be parted from Master. He’s become rather spoiled because of it…”
“Haha, I understand completely. Young Kues are so small and adorable—perfect for carrying around in one’s arms.”
The butler was understanding; Isilite was not. Or rather, she refused to be. She shot a quick glance at the lodgers watching from a polite distance, then seized Emergency Food’s beak with both hands and hissed under her breath.
“Are you going to keep this up? No matter how much you throw a tantrum, some things just aren’t allowed.”
Kuee! Kuuuuh!
“Just go in. We’ll talk once you’re inside. Please? I’m asking you.”
Emergency Food protested that they had stayed together in the last village, so why not here? When Isilite failed to understand, he let out a frustrated Kuppiit! and flapped his wings hard.
Friend! Where’s my friend?! Call my friend!
“Argh, seriously! Master is talking with Mister Kantwi right now…! Do you want to keep embarrassing him?!”
No matter how clever or rare he was, Emergency Food was still a Kue—livestock. An animal that could not live in the same quarters as people. Fed up with his defiance, Isilite grabbed his beak and shoved him toward the stable with raw strength.
Startled by the sudden force, Emergency Food braced with everything he had and glared at her with furious eyes. Isilite read the fighting spirit in that gaze and furrowed her brow—
Frrrrrr—
He violently shook his head free of her hands, then stamped the ground with his right foot—pak, pak—and loosed a short, fierce cry: Kueeii—!
Isilite’s expression hardened.
“You…”
That short, sharp call had been a challenge—a demand to settle the pecking order. Her chest tightened with hurt. His constant clinging to Master had already been trampling Master’s dignity, and now he was challenging her.
She clenched her jaw, glared right back, and lifted her greatsword—still sheathed, of course. Her voice dropped to a chilly murmur.
“This time I won’t hold back even if Master tries to stop me. I’m going to hammer into that tiny head of yours that from now on, the stables are where you sleep.”
Kueak!
You go sleep over there!
Isilite snapped that he was being too loud and settled into the same stance she used when sparring with Hwanin.
“You’re really going to get it today.”
She had been extra careful because he was Master’s precious Kue, but this could not continue. Someone had to play the strict mother and straighten him out.
The sudden spectacle of a human-versus-Kue match left the butler so startled that he dashed off to report to Kantwi. The landlord turned to Hwanin with a faintly flustered look.
“Lord Hwanin, is it truly all right to leave them like that?”
“It is fine. I expected something like this would happen eventually. It may get a little noisy—please forgive the disturbance.”
“Even if the stables are destroyed, we can simply rebuild them… but Miss Isilite is a class-holder, is she not? If the green Kue dies in the process, the loss would be enormous.”
Hwanin offered a small smile to the flower-pig-faced Kantwi who was fretting on his behalf.
“Emergency Food is no pushover either. You’ll find the show entertaining.”
“Hoh…”
Kantwi could not understand. Even a juvenile green Kue would easily fetch two hundred gold coins at auction. Yet this was the reaction? He was still wondering whether he ought to intervene himself when the brief standoff ended and both combatants charged at once.
Isilite dragged the tip of her greatsword along the ground and drove forward like a shoulder tackle; Emergency Food spread his wings wide the way a rooster does right before striking.
Kueeeeet~!
“Hrrngh!”
A short flap lifted Emergency Food just enough for him to unleash a storm of rapid kicks—pabababak. From the front it looked like rain. Yet to Isilite, who endured Hwanin’s downpour of continuous strikes every single day, the speed was nothing special.
Tadadadak—kagak, teodeodeodeok!
She flicked the greatsword’s hilt with nimble wrists, blocking what she could and dodging the rest.
Heavy!
Each kick carried real weight. In pure force they felt easily twice as heavy as Hwanin’s spear thrusts. A Kue this strong? Something felt off.
While that thought flickered, ten exchanges flashed by in four seconds. The instant Emergency Food’s hover ended, Isilite’s horizontal slash swept out—
Kueet!
A sharp wingbeat prolonged his air time; he spun a full circle along the blade’s path, slipped past, then stabbed his beak down like lightning.
Tadadadang—!
“Kh!”
She caught the peck on the flat of the blade, but four successive impacts left her arms tingling.
“You little—!”
At last Isilite’s temper snapped. She had been holding back out of the memories they shared, yet Emergency Food was attacking without the slightest mercy!
“Hup!”
Trusting that Master would heal any wounds with recovery potions, she began swinging the greatsword in earnest. Nearly three meters of reach—counting her arms—whirled like a windmill packed with crushing power. Even Emergency Food had to give ground.
“…!”
With a silent shout she exploded into a short-range dash and finished with a spinning back-fist that smashed into Emergency Food’s face.
Puk!
Kkiik!
Stunned by the lightning blow, he met the following horizontal slash by hammering the flat of the blade with rapid kicks, redirecting it.
Peobeok, pak! Buung—kwagak, tadang—puk!
The brawl that followed left Isilite half-dead with disbelief. She knew Emergency Food had been sparring steadily with Master just as she had; she had watched those man-versus-monster sessions carefully, hoping to learn something. Yet against Master he had looked ordinary. Now that she faced him herself…
Fast! And the attacks are so varied I can’t predict the angle!
Puk!
“Kh…!”
And what was this impact that felt nothing like a Kue’s? It throbbed exactly like taking a solid hit from a fighter of her own rank. Her shoulder sang from a wing-joint strike, but thanks to daily sparring with Hwanin she was used to pain; without even a tenth of a second’s delay she slammed the greatsword into him.
Kkuuit?!
The hasty counter had been a flat-blade slap, yet the wide arc still caught him and sent him sailing.
Peodeodeodeok!
No—he had not been struck so much as yielded to the force and retreated.
Kuuuu…
His fighting spirit had not faded. Landing lightly, Emergency Food lowered his head and began a slow lateral circle, hunting for an opening. Isilite dared not rush in either; the cost of a first strike was too high. The exchange rate was roughly one of her attacks to four or five of his. His kicks simply outsped her swings. Charging without a plan meant only getting hit.
Kantwi, who had forgotten even to breathe while watching, finally let out a gasp of admiration when the two simply glared and held distance. He turned to Hwanin with wide eyes.
“Good heavens… Lord Hwanin, I have seen countless Kues in my life, yet never one that fights this well. Is it because he is a green Kue?”
The two guests who had been watching with him—Join-kin Luararda and Inho-kin Asen—looked equally curious.
“I doubt it. That one is…”
Emergency Food had been extraordinary from their first meeting. Even when he was only a little larger than a pigeon he had shown little fear; he had once flown fearlessly at a Blueflame Tiger in a forest-type labyrinth, flapping his wings in its face. After evolving, daily heavy feeding had ballooned his weight to nearly one hundred fifty kilograms. His legs had grown long and thick; beak and talons had hardened and sharpened. His wings were heavy and solid, the feathers acting as natural shock absorbers. Above all, the sheer wing power needed to keep that mass aloft was staggering.
On top of that physique, Hwanin had drilled him twice a day on every point a fighter must watch when battling humans. With outstanding physical gifts and a clever head that soaked up instruction, Emergency Food had become a true combat ration in every sense. Hwanin judged that an ordinary class-holder would lose to him one-on-one—which was why he simply watched now.
“This little brat—come here!”
Kueet~! Kuhung! Heng!
“You—!”
Pudak, peobeok, kagak—kwang! Kugung, kagagagagak—!
“Is that so? Then the child is special!”
“He is a unique one, yes.”
As the fight gradually turned into a grappling brawl, Luararda—who had been watching with arms folded and a grave expression—cut into the conversation between Hwanin and Kantwi.
“Forgive the interruption, but did the young lord truly teach that Kue martial arts?”
“Nothing so grand as martial arts. I merely attacked him in various ways, many times.”
“….”
Simply attacking was enough for a Kue to learn combat technique of this caliber? Even at a glance the warrior called Isilite was no low-level fighter. Her aura reserves were solid; her greatsword handling, posture, power delivery, and footwork all looked excellent. She could hold her own against a fourth-class warrior. And that warrior was aiming for the Kue’s back—because once a rider mounted a Kue, the fight was over. Yet the Kue seemed to know it too; he almost never showed his back and gave her no chance to leap on.
Pababak—! Peobeok, tteong! Teodeodeodeong!
“Emergency Food, you little—!”
Kkueeek! Kkuut!
“Shut up! You’re driving me crazy!”
Kuhung! Kuppiit!
“Are you trying to never show your face to me again?!”
Kueet! Kuukuukuu! Kueeeuh!
The fight was beginning to tip into pure emotional bickering. If the two fell out, Hwanin would be the one inconvenienced, so he stepped forward to end it. He had watched their attack patterns until he was sick of them. The moment he slipped between the flurry of kicks and greatsword swings, he read the angle of Isilite’s shoulder and arm, the placement of her feet, the twist of her torso—and struck her elbow and wrist just as she began her swing, snatching the greatsword away. At the same time he planted a foot on Emergency Food’s leg as the bird tried a jumping attack, then vaulted up and landed squarely on his back.
“Eek—Master?!”
Kyuut?!
Disarmed and mounted in an instant, both froze in shock.
“That is enough for today. Sparring to improve yourselves is fine, but when it turns into an emotional quarrel the whole point is lost.”
“But Masteeer, Emergency Food keeps…”
Kkuu. Kueekuee. Kueeeung.
Hwanin listened to their whining for a moment, then nodded.
“Isilite, be more considerate of Emergency Food and refrain from the things he dislikes. Emergency Food, listen more quietly to Isilite and obey her.”
“Yeees.”
Kueeh.
Faced with the mediation of the master they respected, loved, and adored—and of their friend—they reluctantly glared at each other and backed down.
From a distance the three spectators—Kantwi, Luararda, and Asen—stood with mouths and beaks slightly agape. What on earth had just happened…? To their eyes, Hwanin had simply blinked once and somehow stolen the greatsword and mounted the green Kue. The process itself had been almost invisible; they felt as though they had been bewitched.
One thing, however, was certain.
Hwanin’s claim that he had taught the green Kue combat technique had been no empty boast.