Volume 6 Chapter 95 Horsefolk Matters
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
At first, I thought he was just a kind man. As a slave, it is certainly better to have a gentle master than a harsh one, yet his occasionally irritating softness felt unbearable to me.
I had believed that among humans, there were both good and evil people. The slave hunters were undeniably villains, but I trusted that the good humans would soon free us, honoring the ancient covenant.
That hope vanished the moment the slave trader who bought us used the orb of subjugation. I had heard of the cruelty of the subjugation skill—my life, it seemed, was over. More painful than that was the shame I felt for failing to protect Lady Joa. It was my fault for not dissuading her from her reckless desire to visit Unicorn’s Spring.
Whether it was the subjugation or something else, I gradually lost my sense of self. Even as I drifted through a haze like a drunken dream, my fear dulled into an indistinct haze.
It was then I was sold to that man. Was it salvation to be with Lady Joa?
Lady Joa, raised noble and helpless to live on her own, must have been assigned to me as her attendant because she could not survive unaided. My worth, after all, extended only so far.
He was a young man, still marked by traces of boyhood, but his lustful gaze never left our chests.
Human men are all perverts, their eyes drawn to women’s breasts. The horsefolk men lust as well, but their desire is for copulation, not breasts—permitted as part of the sacred duty to leave descendants.
* * *
Yet, we were treated far better than I expected. The first surprise was the food. Though the slave trader hadn’t treated us too harshly, the meals were always unappetizing and insufficient in quantity.
This man, our new master, cooked our meals himself—and ate the same food he served us.
It’s easy to claim good treatment with words, but in meals at least, I felt genuine sincerity.
His cooking was astonishingly delicious. I had always thought those obsessed with gourmet food were foolish, yet I found myself eating eagerly. Lady Joa, accustomed to feasting, was equally enthusiastic. Though I suspected the subjugation skill might be influencing us, since the man himself ate happily, the food must have truly been delicious.
Humans, horsefolk, and Antfolk—each with different tastes and customs—were all savoring this miraculous cooking.
Perhaps then, feelings beyond hatred began to grow toward this mysterious man.
* * *
He was a Hero from another world. The rumors were true: humans have been indiscriminately summoning Heroes lately, many of whom are mere nominal champions.
He self-deprecatingly called himself a “failed Hero.” No true Hero would come without a Demon King to face.
The country he came from, Japan, was said to be a peaceful land rich with delicious food and free from war. If its people were soft, it was understandable.
Though lacking extraordinary strength, he had a talent for archery. I was stunned by how skillfully he brought down quail with a bow that looked fragile as a toy.
Quail may be weak prey, but catching them is no easy feat. Among the horsefolk, some boast merely of strong bows, but true hunters are those who bring home meat.
Bringing back the right amount of meat at the right time, without overhunting, shows true skill.
If one can hunt abundantly, even without noble blood, they are a winner—one capable of supporting many partners.
I knew little of human customs, but the man distributed meat to the village women.
He did not hunt alone. He skillfully coordinated the Antfolk, directing them efficiently. If he showed strength fitting a pack leader, I would not hesitate to accept him as master. My initial aversion to him slowly faded.
* * *
His obsession with women’s breasts seemed less a human custom and more a peculiarity from otherworldly Japan.
When I said I wanted to cut off one breast because it hindered drawing my bow, he hurriedly crafted a special breastplate for me—exquisitely made, a testament to the depth of Japanese culture.
I, too, do not wish to harm my own body willingly. So, I was grateful for that culture.
Though it seemed strange to admire breasts, I learned it was considered a gentleman’s taste in Japan, a way to praise a woman’s charisma.
As long as Lady Joa was not involved, it was no problem to me personally.
My master, in order to save a girl suffering from a curse, dared the Valley of Trials. He was recognized by a dragon not through brute strength, but through wisdom. By horsefolk standards, he was unquestionably a hero.
Though I was merely a packbearer, I felt proud to serve him.
Later, I learned he seduced Lady Uno more with charm than wisdom, which surprised me—but the fact remained: he saved her life.
Even if he was a womanizer, perhaps the subjugation skill was influencing my thoughts.
They say the most terrifying aspect of the subjugation skill is that it turns suffering into pleasure.
Even if you hate someone enough to want to kill them, the more you hate them, the more pleasure you feel from their control.
Though it seems designed to keep slaves from breaking mentally, could there be a greater humiliation for the proud centaur race?
One should choose death rather than slavery. If it were only myself, I would have done so without hesitation. But with Lady Joa held hostage, crying and screaming, I had no choice but to obey.
* * *
There should have been no way to release the subjugation skill once it took root.
Yet that man nullified it easily—absurdly simply. He wore a cursed ring that rendered all skills unusable.
Because the subjugation skill seals all skills, this equipment was a boon to me. Anyone could have thought of it, yet no one had until now. Truly, as expected of a Hero.
Once my heart was free again, I judged calmly and found his promise to free us in return for our labor credible.
It was undoubtedly sweet, but also rational. The idea that willing work is more efficient than forced labor made sense.
If I were in his place, I would do the same. But many in this world, if given the choice, would slack off.
And Lady Joa—while not lazy… perhaps it would have been better if she were—acted impulsively the moment the subjugation was lifted. Like a wild beast, she rampaged using her strength and escaped.
My failure to anticipate this was grave.
I foolishly assumed, since no bright future awaited us if we returned home now, Lady Joa would accept her new life.
She could never reach her homeland alone. Within days, she would either die or be hunted again by slave hunters.
He sent me to guard her with a snap decision, even giving me his wallet as travel money. This was not mere kindness. He was truly soft-hearted.
But such generosity is likely the luxury of those who have. He can generate wealth in ways I cannot imagine.
To him, it may be trivial—but to me, it is a great favor.
I will repay it someday. This is my pride.
* * *
After several days of travel, I finally arrived safely at the horsefolk village. The reception, however, was far worse than I had imagined—worse than even the shame of being captured by humans.
I know I bear the blame for failing to protect Ms. Joa. Yet, even she had been reduced to the status of a slave. Perhaps it was because of his position as chief, but selling his own daughter—useless to him now—to her former fiancé struck me as unbearably cruel.
I was no better off. My father beat me until he was satisfied and then sold me to my former betrothed.
If there had been love between us, perhaps things would have turned out differently, perhaps even returned to what once was. Ms. Joa’s former fiancé was a young master from a respected family, but mine was a scoundrel—a cruel man who delighted in tormenting me, now a slave.
Though of noble bloodline, he was coarse and incompetent—a fool obsessed with drink and women. He was twisted by envy because he could never match me in martial skill. He was always cruel to those weaker than himself; perhaps it was his nature. I never cared for him before, but foolishly, I had once thought I would marry him.
He tried to use his clumsy body-enhancement skill to take me by force, but even without skills, I was not one to be subdued easily. I resolved to beat him until he was incapacitated and then escape.
* * *
As his man often said, the inhabitants of this world rely too heavily on skills. What truly matters is how you fight with the cards you’re dealt.
The tales of the valiant centaur tribe are but glories of a distant past. The descendants of once-great heroes have become parasites, clinging to a moldy reputation. They no longer hunt with their own strength but simply consume the spoils handed to them because of noble lineage. In the end, they imitate the worst customs of humankind.
The chieftain has made it clear he is unworthy of loyalty. Compared to that human man, he is far too insignificant to be a lord. Even my once-respected father was nothing but a petty figure concerned only with self-preservation.
Having become a slave and lost my strength, I have come to understand many things. It is precisely because I lived among humans that I saw the ugly truths of the horsefolk.
No—it must be due to the man’s otherness. Serving beside him was like learning from a sage from a hero’s tale. No one else is worthy of my loyalty.
Having escaped the village, I am no longer permitted to return home. Such matters no longer concern me. Though Lady Joa’s fate is unfortunate, it was a path she chose herself. From now on, I will walk my own.
First, I must repay my debt to that man and regain his trust.
It is only natural that the women of the human race flock to him. Marriage is a reliable way to become kin to someone excellent.
Though I am of a different race and harbor no such intentions, I would not refuse if he asked. At this point, I no longer feel disgust toward him; if anything, I feel a desire to protect him. Though he appears as a boy, that is only his appearance—humans are naturally small in stature, making him seem childlike.
Moreover, the tips of his fingers are intoxicating to touch. What would happen if I were to be skillfully and gently caressed? They say centaurs and humans can bear children together—do I have the courage to open the door to the unknown?
I am ready to die in battle. But the courage required in matters of men and women is a different kind altogether.
The women of the human race are shrewd and brave. I doubt I could compete with them.
I shall begin with what I can do.
First, I must repay my debt. Regaining the trust of the centaur tribe will be difficult, but I will strive to be judged as an individual.
* * *
Saburou’s Perspective
Ms. Claire’s favorite curry rice—yet something seems off. She wears a troubled expression and has eaten only about three servings, though she should easily devour five.
I often hear that once people become working adults, they can’t eat as much as during their student days. Perhaps Ms. Claire has reached that age.
Even if I make too much, I can store it in the magic bag. With El and Ms. Ant’s cooking talents, I’ve prepared a mountain of it using spirit ingredients replicated with mana.
Apparently, continuous consumption of spirit ingredients is unhealthy for humans, so I prepared a separate batch just for them. For fantasy creatures, the mana in spirit ingredients is actually beneficial—it helps dragons, centaurs, Antfolk, and El races alike. Ms. Nina, being a homunculus, is included too.
El, with her strength, can cook for several hundred people at once but can easily devour food meant for dozens. Uno’s stomach is bottomless, and the spirits will eat as much as there is. If I’m not careful, everything might disappear. Eating is a battlefield—especially with popular dishes like curry.
Uno and the advanced spirits can even replicate the finished curry using mana, a skillful trick, but they still feel something is missing.
Well then, shall I taste it? It’s not just my imagination—is it because the chef’s affection isn’t infused? If so, it truly is a matter of feelings.
* * *
I heard what happened to Ms. Claire in her hometown. If she suddenly returned unable to use her skills, the villagers would have been at a loss. In a village where survival is tight, freeloaders are chased out.
From my perspective, it’s good that Ms. Claire is here to help. Though transportation methods like the Hover Shield and bicycles exist, horsefolk remain less conspicuous. Moreover, with her skills, she is a great asset.
This is an opportunity. I think I’ll have her work not as a slave but as a subordinate—and I must ensure she gets paid properly. I will consult with Shea-Shea about it.
Our country’s budget is always tight, but compared to others, we have decent cash flow. Not something to brag about, but just issuing mithril commemorative coins allows us to secure a budget equivalent to a mid-sized nation for a year.
Engraving the beautiful portrait of the Goddess on the coins was a great success—they trade among collectors at many times their face value. Yet merchants have also requested high-value currency usable at face value.
Still, absolute currency supply is insufficient. It’s unavoidable in a world where bartering remains mainstream.
When currency is scarce, it leads to a deflationary economy. It’s not only high-value coins that are lacking—copper coins are too, and without plenty of copper coins, popular culture cannot develop. Even classic street foods can’t thrive without abundant small change.
I should mass-produce copper coins as my last task in Uno’s nest.
* * *
Still, as deadlines approach, new tasks keep arising—is it some kind of curse? At this rate, Sar-Sar will grow up before I know it.
If I produce too many gold coins, it will provoke the Larse Empire; increasing silver coins will likely annoy the Totoana Empire.
High-value currency should be limited to mithril coins. If I include the Goddess’s portrait, people might be reluctant to use them, so perhaps a male deity would be better. Ah, maybe the god of contracts who has aided me would be fitting.
Since divine punishment is terrifying, I should consult the prototype first.
On the front, I’ll depict a stern-looking old man with a rich beard; on the back, a design of scales.
The image of the contract god Sir Hortus varies widely. Male deities are usually treated casually unless super famous, so depicting a bearded old man should suffice. Some even repurpose statues of other gods.
I won’t do such a careless job. I designed the character based on my impression of Sir Hortus.
Hmm, his divinity differs from the Goddess series—I think I did well, if I say so myself.
Suddenly, the prototype shone, and the divine mark of Sir Hortus appeared beneath the scales—a design inspired by the god’s eye that does not overlook injustice.
When I had Uno confirm it, he said I also have Sir Hortus’s blessing. Does that mean we have the green light?
”Too many divine blessings—I can’t keep track anymore,” Uno muttered.
But blessings mean I can’t afford any careless mistakes. I have to do my job responsibly. The thought of betraying the gods’ expectations is terrifying.
* * *
The mithril coins of Sir Hortus will circulate widely, so I set denominations at 100,000 gold, 1,000,000 gold, and 10,000,000 gold. The face value and intrinsic value won’t be linked, making them more like paper money.
For now, I won’t produce 10,000 gold coins—the face value of common gold coins in the Larse Empire. It’s a small courtesy.
Carrying nine common gold coins during high-value transactions is manageable and won’t be a burden.
Jingling gold coins are a hassle for large payments. Using the Merchant Guild’s account is convenient but costly and leaves transaction records. For merchants, information is lifeblood, and I can’t afford to lose privacy.
The big merchants will eagerly adopt this high-value currency, and their faith in Sir Hortus will deepen. Ah, I’ll need to build an additional temple.
* * *
As for the copper coins, it’s all about quantity. The reason even small change is circulating at all is because there’s an absolute shortage of currency. In our country, we will drive out bad money with sheer volume and superior circulation.
They say bad money drives out good money because everyone hoards the good stuff. Well, that’s fine—saving is important. But then, we’ll just mass-produce so many copper coins that no one can hoard them.
Inflation and rising prices? That’s acceptable. Our country will keep raising wages, so people’s lives won’t suffer. What about Totoana and Larse? Both nations employ plenty of summoned heroes, so they should manage economically as well.
From the perspective of the manufacturer, producing the sheer number of copper coins needed is far harder than minting expensive mithril currency. How many millions will I need? No—considering the coins will spread to other countries, I’ll need hundreds of millions.
That’s a scale that would discourage anyone working alone. Eventually, a dedicated department will be necessary. But how does one even create a mint?
For now, I’ll push through with all my strength.
Magic is like a program; it can automate routine work. It’s nice to craft each coin with a soul, but since what I want is sheer quantity of uniform pieces, it makes sense to cut corners where possible.
First, a spell that launches a measured amount of molten bronze into the air from the magic bag. Next, a spell that compresses the flying bronze into coin shapes using a magic mold. Cooling in midair? There’s not enough time. I’ll just drop them into a bucket of water to cool.
After trial and error, I completed a magic spell that produces copper coins automatically. Once enchanted, the coins will be minted just by consuming mana.
The sight of copper coins firing out like bullets is magnificent. Maybe a few per second—but is that enough? About two hundred coins per minute—twelve thousand per hour. How long will it take to make a hundred million?
”That looks fun! I want to try it!”
Since Uno wants to join in, I transfer the magic to them. If I finish it as a spell anyone can use, I could teach mint workers remotely through the orb. The tricky part is managing the magic bag. If I lend a hand, it might be manageable—but then, it’s faster if I just do it myself. I understand the feelings of a one-man CEO.
As expected of Uno, an ancient dragon, they master the magic effortlessly. I cooperate by stabilizing the magic bag. It’s a perfectly synchronized joint effort—like making rice cakes together.
”There’s more magic, right? In that case…”
Uno deploys the spell in parallel. The theory is simple: more production lines, more output. Two lines double production. A hundred lines, a hundredfold increase.
Soon the bucket overflows with copper coins, so Uno switches their aim to a nearby spring.
It’s said to be romantic to toss coins into the Trevi Fountain, but copper coins pouring down like a downpour? That’s frightening.
”The sight of money falling from the sky is such an exciting scene, isn’t it?”
Shea-Shea and Miss Floria hold hands, beaming. Surprisingly, even Princess Auroora and Tizzy join in. They call it “exciting” in Japanese—it sounds strange in my head, like they learned it from anime and started a mini trend.
”It’s certainly magnificent, but it’s just pocket change.”
”In terms of value, it’s not much—especially compared to mithril coins.”
”There is no such thing as pocket change.”
”What our country needs most right now is small change.”
”Money… so much of it…”
While some love money, El and Ms. Ant watch quietly, like watching fireworks. It’s not that they don’t understand money—they just don’t seem attached to it.
Ms. Claire watches with a pained expression. Maybe she’s remembering when she was bought as a slave.
* * *
Whether you think of money as corrupting or sanctifying, either way is wrong. The power of money was simply too strong in modern Japan.
”Even with copper coins, this much money could let me live a life of leisure forever.”
Ms. Shirakaba toys with the coins, stacking them with a troubled look.
”You want to live a life of leisure forever?”
”Hmm, this work is kind of half-play anyway. Is war also a game? Battles using skills feel like games.”
I wonder if that’s how Ms. Shirakaba sees it.
”Since you’re strong, just be careful with the sending-back magic. Anything over level 10 will definitely kill you.”
Even at level 1, a certain percentage die.
”If you think about it normally, it’s a trap designed to bury the Hero who defeated the Demon King. I don’t particularly care because I don’t want to go back, but whoever came up with it has a nasty personality.”
Once I leave here, maneuvering among those nasty characters will begin. I want to stay holed up a little longer—maybe a few more years.
If everyone crosses at a red light, what can you say? I guess I’ll have to consult with everyone.
Notes:
• Ms. Joa – 18-year-old noble centaur with a white horse body and silver hair. Level 15 junior knight. Recently enslaved, retains her own will. Her lance charge skill is sealed due to subservience. Bought by the protagonist as a companion, alongside Claire
• Ms. Claire – 22-year-old centaur attendant to Joa, with a chestnut horse body and wavy hair. Level 18 mounted archer. Recently enslaved, retains her own will. Her bow skills are sealed due to subservience. Bought by the protagonist as a companion, alongside Joa
• Ms. Ant – Level 20 ant soldier, over 2 meters tall in armor. Named by the protagonist due to lack of a previous name. Wields a huge battle axe, large round shield, and throwing axes. Seasoned warrior capable of taking down sub-dragons. Ms. Hóa’s prized secret treasure. Borrowed by the protagonist as a trial during his time in the royal capital
• El – She is a giant woman, appeared as Saburou’s captor, living alone in a large tent, skilled in hunting and cooking, proposes marriage to Saburou.
• Ms. Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Shea-Shea – Mauro’s daughter. Hurt by Alexander. Became an eager fiancée after advice from protagonist.
• Miss Floria – Elegant, silver-haired noblewoman in her 40s, referred to as an ‘older sister’. Judge of the Supreme Court and Baroness. Former tutor of Princess Auroora. Initially stern but warms up, showing a playful side. Close with Ms. Nina (Princess Auroora’s doll copy), treating her like a sister. Trustworthy and explains legal matters clearly.
• Tizzy – Claims to be Duke’s daughter, a noble with advanced magic skills. MC and Ms. Shirakaba lover.
• Mone – Earth’s spirit, the security guard, the one who allow Saburou to enter the Lady Uno’s realm, expresses interest in being a wife, specifically called “Earth’s Mone.”
• Shirakaba – A paladin who seems to be a skilled fighter. He’s introduced as someone with a strong defense and healing abilities.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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