“It’s another piece of feces… are we getting close to the center of the herd?”
“I’d be glad if we are.”
It’s the next day.
We added Landrid to yesterday’s squad and ventured into the Aphrata Mountains again.
The weather is fine as it was yesterday. Because it’s a mountain, it’s hotter and tougher than it is on the plains. I should have prepared enough food and drink, but my honest impression is that I don’t want the venture to last too long.
Besides, it seems that the weather from tomorrow is going to be a little dubious. There is no reason to doubt the Old Lady’s words, which are more reliable than any fortune-teller so far. It is a natural result that everyone wants to confirm various estimates by the end of today.
In the midst of this, the veteran Landrid joined us this time, so we can conduct more intense reconnaissance than the day before.
I can no longer see the scenery of the village from here. It was deep in the mountains, but it seemed worth it.
“However, there are only strays even if you enter this deep… it’s a little unexpected,” Landrid said.
“Right? I don’t know what’s going on…” I said.
That we have found pieces of evidence of saber boars is, in itself, a pleasant discovery. Now, we have a definite range of where our prey is making their stomping grounds.
However, on the other hand, it was also a little strange that there was no sign of a herd, even though they should have invaded the mountain thoroughly enough to see them at the shallow end.
""
“How many have we killed so far today?” Kuruni asked.
“Five of them,” I replied. “I gave up on collecting the corpses, but they were all alone.”
Yes. Despite the fact that the sun had already risen to its peak in the sky, we had already encountered 5 saber boars. It’s good that I was able to kill all of them with one strike, but I have some questions about all our encounters being lone, isolated members.
Why do we keep finding individuals and no herd? We still don’t know why.
Saber boars basically form family groups, but they are not without their strays. But even so, it bothers me that I’ve never seen more than two of them so far.
“I don’t think it’s possible that the herd has stopped,” Landrid said. “There may be some circumstances over there.”
“Yes. I hope it’s something we can handle…” I said.
The behaviors of living things do not change suddenly. Normally, it would be unthinkable for monsters that used to form herds until a generation ago to suddenly become individualistic creatures. In short, it’s difficult to conclude that a species has deviated so greatly, that quickly.
Leaving aside the hundred or so steps it takes to get there if the behavior of saber boars changed completely in one generation, it would be difficult to say that it would become a big problem.
As I mentioned earlier, the saber boar has a moderate threat level, but it is not a creature that stands at the top of the Aphrata Mountains’ food chain.
Therefore, if all individuals act alone without going as a herd, the possibility of being hunted by other monsters increases. Furthermore, territorial disputes between individuals will also occur, so the number of individuals should see a gradual decline from the status quo.
At the same time, each individual will be distributed thinly over the entire mountain range, so the impact on the places where humans dwell will be relatively low. From the point of view of a saber boar, I would want to avoid such a situation. It was something that should be called instinct rather than intelligence, and it was in a situation that was especially difficult to think about.
“I can think of a man-made cause…” Landrid said, “but I have no idea what it might look like and what advantage there is to even doing it.”
“I agree,” I said.
If you look at it beyond the realm of reason, it’s not impossible for someone to artificially experiment with monsters and end up with this kind of side effect. But that is just unrealistic. Above all, the risk and return of doing such a big thing in the Aphrata Mountains are too weighted to risk.
“For the time being, I guess we have no choice but to continue searching…” I said.
Even if you think about it, it won’t even be baseless speculation, so in the end, all we can do is move forward to confirm the truth. We thin out the saber boars we found later.
“Where do they often appear in a typical year?” Kuruni asked.
“A whole mix of places,” I replied. “But they shouldn’t go that far into the mountains.”
I definitely don’t want to go deep into the Aphrata Mountains. It’s the same for humans, animals, and monsters.
If it’s a Named, I don’t want to think that that class of monster exists all over the place, but even then, they’re usually large monsters, such as griffons and king allosauruses. I think there are probably a wide variety of other medium-sized and large-sized species Named that I just don’t know about.
No matter how many lives you have, it’ll never be enough to rush into such a situation like that, and the same goes for the saber boar. No matter how many mutations occur, I don’t think a saber boar can beat a large species.
Therefore, as usual, our interpretation of the evidence is that they wandered from the foot of the mountain to the middle of the mountain.
It’s the easiest line to draw, they just happen to be concentrated in a place far away from Bidden Village and we don’t need to deal with them this year, but it’s annoying when there are so many stray saber boars lurking around. To a normal human, just one animal is enough of a threat.
“The number of animal trails has increased, and I think we are getting closer…” Landrid said.
“There’s no doubt about that,” I said. “I don’t know if it’s our bad luck or if the other party is wary.”
It’s not like we’re just guessing and going around randomly in this vast mountain range, either. There are several places to see, such as obvious pieces of evidence like excrement, marks on trees, and trampled grass.
And apart from Kuruni, who is probably new to this kind of exploration, Landrid and I have experience in subjugating saber boars, and Henblitz probably has similar experiences.
I don’t think it will happen, but it would be pretty terrible if there’s an alpha saber boar who has been detecting our presence and moves the herd to avoid us. No, I don’t think it’s possible.
Or rather, I hate to say it, but there are too many things to think about fighting against saber boars. I’m getting kind of frustrated.
“I wonder if even a researcher can unravel this mystery a little,” Kuruni said.
“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “I’ve never met a monster researcher.”
We have indeed experienced subjugating saber boars, and we generally know what kind of creatures they are. However, it does not mean that such knowledge has been acquired scientifically, but it comes from empirical observation.
Experience often works better than knowledge, but on the other hand, it is very weak against such irregularities as these. Because there is no precedent within our experiences, we have to rebuild our assumptions from scratch.
But well, even though the whole world is your field, I don’t think there are many people who like to study monster ecology. I think it’s different if money comes into the science.
“Speaking of which, Master Beryl,” Landrid said. “Where will the disciples come into play?”
“Huh? Ah, right…” I said.
Certainly, just as he feared, it was now a discussion of where the disciples would be active in a situation like this.
Every year, an advance party like me and my father would find a herd of saber boars, drive them away while reducing their numbers, and ask the disciples and ones left at the village to dispose of the stragglers escaping at the foot of the mountain. Throwing these inexperienced people into the Aphrata Mountains would be too dangerous.
There were years when they didn’t even make it to the village if we acted well. The village as a whole is lucky, but it will be a bit of a disappointment for the disciples who saw it as an opportunity to gain valuable experience.
“Generally, we’ll use them to defend the village,” I said. “We’re the only ones going into the mountains.”
“Understood,” Landrid said. “Well, I suppose we can’t force them.”
Yes, we can’t force them.
No matter how talented you are, no matter how talented we think they are, you lose your life in a single moment of misfortune. There is no such thing as too much of a safety margin.
Fortunately, there are no disciples who have lost their lives in the saber boar subjugation so far, but even so, there is a possibility of at least an injury, and it has happened before.
However, no matter how much you train and keep beating wooden dummies, you won’t accumulate experience in actual battles. If you want to go that route, you have to put yourself in danger somewhere.
Of course, on this side, I intend to thoroughly select people who have acquired sufficient ability, and I also take into consideration the motivation of the persons themselves. But even then, accidents do happen.
It’s true that I want my beloved disciples to grow up, but it’s also true that I don’t want them to put their lives in danger. You could say it was the Sword Master’s Dilemma.
""
“Hmm…? This looks like we’re finally close,” Landrid said.
“Hmm, is it a kind of marking?” I said.
We saw a more clearly trodden animal trail and trees with rough scars around them. The scars inflicted are not animal claws shredding. It was damage where there had been struck and knocked straight down with something large and sharp.
Organisms that form groups, not just saber boars, have their territories. There are indicators of their land like marks and feces, but in the case of a saber boar, it knocks trees and breaks rocks with the tusks they’re so proud of.
The fact that we see them now means that we are finally approaching the herd. But if there is one concern, it is this:
“… Isn’t this huge?” I asked.
“It’s gigantic,” Landrid said. “The boar who made it must be of significant size.”
There’s a scar carved into the trunk of a single tree. That’s too big.
Tusks are also a part of the body, so it’s not often it’s the only part that grows to absurd size. Just as there are no humans with abnormally large teeth, the same is true for monsters. In short, a huge tusk means a correspondingly large body, and looking at the scar this time, it must be huge.
“Just a theory, it seems that a powerful individual is leading the herd,” Landrid said.
“Well, I guess so, too. You won’t see a wound of this size very often,” I said.
It is possible in any world for something like a mutant to be born and that thing to rule over a group. Especially in the world of monsters, strength defines the order of everything, so this time is also that scheme.
Simply having a big body means you’re insanely strong.
The limit of muscle mass and output that can be outputted is determined by the individual’s skeleton. The only exceptions would be the mages and Kuruni. I wonder why this young girl can output so much at her size. It is a mystery.
“Let’s proceed with more caution. Be careful of surprise attacks,” I said.
“Yes!” the others said.
That we’re close to the center of the herd, means it will be no surprise to find saber boars wandering around.
Although it is better than the forest, it is hard to say we’ve got a sufficient line of sight of the mountain around us. It would hurt to be attacked from the side or behind, so I have to be on my guard.
Well, around here it’s more like an order than a request. Both Landrid and Henblitz are skilled. Even Kuruni wouldn’t do a foolish mistake. We had all trustworthy heads on our shoulders.
“… Ah! Master, over there,” Kuruni said as she remained wary of the right side.
“Hmm, what happened?” I asked.
Judging from the tone of her voice, she seems to have discovered something.
“… You’ve done a good job, Kuruni,” I whispered.
“Ehehehe. I’ll do it when I have to,” Kuruni said, just as softly.
If you raise your voice too loudly, you might get caught, so praise in gentle voice. As if Kuruni knew the situation, too, her reaction was unusually quiet.
I trace Kuruni’s pointing finger. I look between low grass and sparse trees. It seems that the wild animals have caused a slight depression, and I found a group of less than 10 saber boars in a spot that would be difficult to find if we were marching normally.
Several saber boars are prowling around the hollow. They were constantly moving their tusks and sniffing the air as if they were wary of their surroundings.
In the center of the hollow, there is a saber boar that puffs itself up, as if to say, “I am the Boss.”
Well, it was easy to predict that there would be an alpha leading the group. So this situation itself is not unnatural at all, rather it’s to be expected.
The problem lay with the boss in question.
“Huh…?”
Yeah, this guy is too huge, isn’t he?
