Chapter 420: Side_Digest: Calamity Turns, People Move

Sen's Fortress, you bastard... seriously, you bastard... Sorry the update took so long. I was off on a shitty vacation in that damn rotten village.

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Zenith Guevara: "Hey, Farmer. A production request came in."

Super Farmer: "No, no. Not Farmer—Super Farmer. That part is very important."

Zenith Guevara: "Specifically how?"

Super Farmer: "It sounds stronger, doesn’t it?"

Was that really the issue...?

Zenith Guevara sighed, looked out over the area, and smiled a wicked grin.

Zenith Guevara: "How should I put it...? The thrill of having exclusive information and getting to be the one who puts it out there is incredible."

Super Farmer: "Zeni-chan seems like the type who’d love that. I’m doing all the behind-the-scenes work, though."

Zenith Guevara: "Ah, you know. Like a management consultant or something."

Super Farmer: "We’ve got exclusive distribution, so let’s rip people off."

Zenith Guevara and Super Farmer grinned at each other.

Super Farmer was one of the few players in the entire game to have Farmer as a main job—a pure production-class player, in a sense.

While wandering the forest in search of new crops, Super Farmer had discovered an unknown item. Zenith Guevara noticed it after it had been buried beneath later forum topics, secretly approached Super Farmer, and found that the guess had been correct.

The Human Dragora—something that might be called a plant-type monster... no, a monster-type plant—had a system similar to Conquista Doll, which some player had contracted after a long chain of events. Neither person here had any way of knowing that.

That was why Zenith Guevara intended to conceal and monopolize this information, drawing Super Farmer in as an accomplice.

Super Farmer: "Look, if we’re after money, now is when we should announce it, right? You announce something before the Christmas rush, then it sells at Christmas. Release it after Christmas, and all you’ve got left are customers who’ve run out of money."

Zenith Guevara: "What can I say? We were supposed to demonstrate it against some random Color Dragon, but now they’re all coming here at once."

Mandy: "Yeeaah..."

Zenith Guevara: "Oh, thanks, Mandy."

Mandy: "Fresh-squeezed Culverin melon juice, harvested this morning."

The sight of the power-type Human Dragora pointing both thumbs at its chest as though declaring, I made this, had already become familiar.

Zenith Guevara rolled the orange-colored juice—a hue unlike citrus orange—around on the tongue from the wooden cup.

Zenith Guevara: "Long live gourmet taste buds."

Super Farmer: "Getting to eat high-quality ingredients you grew yourself is the best part of being a production class... There, there. It’s feeding time."

Super Farmer walked toward the swaying saplings, speaking to them as though soothing babies.

Zenith Guevara watched the scene: the huge number of Human Dragora that had entered their final adjustment phase in preparation for the coming decisive battle.

Zenith Guevara: "...This looks like an evil production factory."

Super Farmer: "Only now?"

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Dirnadia: "I am Dirnadia of the Peerless Twin Blades Mora-Beagalltach! As expected, that bastard was nowhere to be found, no matter where we searched in the caves!!"

???: "That Buriburi Nyannyan must have been frightened by our might!!"

The woman looked at the two warriors who had come stomping in, shaking the ground as they delivered their noisy report.

She stroked the two swords hanging behind her waist and sighed.

Dirnadia: "The white dragon Bryleinyego must periodically hunt small dragons, or it will devour everything in sight. That is why we have fought alongside our weapons..."

But Bryleinyego had vanished, and a small visitor had predicted a dragon calamity at the eastern edge of the continent.

Dirnadia: "Then the place where the dragon calamity lies is our destination. Anyone who objects, raise a sword. My twin blades will answer."

That was their way.

If one wished to object to the chief’s policy, it should be argued with weapons, not words.

There were no objections. Countless eyes, burning with fighting spirit, looked toward the woman.

Dirnadia: "Then rise, warriors! My comrades who bear great strength! Tell our friends yet unseen! We Giants... no, the Peerless Twin Blades Mora-Beagalltach march east to strike down the storm of dragon calamity!!"

The enormous figures, far removed from ordinary humanity, answered with deep roars from their bellies. The air itself trembled.

At that very moment, the Giants’ migration-quest flag was set.

And because no one was there to accept it, it began progressing automatically.

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Chick: "Chief! The sky is scary..."

Owl: "There, there... But we cannot overlook this."

A small chick clung to the blind owl.

The owl raised sightless eyes toward the sky and sensed it without relying on vision.

How much time had passed since the dragons had stolen the vast sky from them?

As long as being discovered by a dragon could lead to an entire flock being destroyed for “getting too full of themselves,” they could not fly freely without fear.

They may have become good at avoiding trees, but there were no trees growing in the sky.

Owl: "Hmm..."

The owl remembered the words of the wingless visitors—the words of those wandering wolves.

The time for hiding was over. Those wingless people who had come from beyond the sea intended to fight every dragon.

The owl did not like conflict.

But likes and dislikes did not have the power to overturn reality.

The day had come when, even if the owl’s words might cast young wings down to the ground, the owl had to take flight past that fear.

Owl: "...Little chick, could you call Fistfighting Rooster Desperado for me?"

Chick: "O-okay!"

—Even if they had been given wings that could not fly, that did not mean their hearts had been broken.

Among those who could fly but were bound to the ground by the weight of fear, there were rare accursed children born unable to fly at all.

Many strayed down the wrong path from sheer inferiority. But the owl remembered a young man who carried an unwavering will in his wings—his fists.

Those youths had now formed a great group of flightless outcasts. The owl believed they were the ones worthy of being entrusted with the fate of the Birdians.

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They sought battle.

For pride?

—No.

To prove their strength?

—No.

Then for what?

It was their “fate,” because that was how they had been born.

???: "So what do we do?"

Woa: "What is there to do? What would defeating dragons accomplish? Our fangs were not sharpened for such things."

The one who had asked the question tried to respond to the words of the leader who dismissed the dragons’ calamity as “such things”...

Then shrank the ears and fell silent.

Woa: "...What is it? Say it if you have something to say."

???: "N-no, it’s nothing. But shouldn’t we at least tell those guys?"

The Beastfolk were currently split into three... or, more precisely, four factions, fighting among themselves.

The Lionheart Clan, led by Reraal, a lion Beastfolk who drew strong support from those proud of their strength, advocated “prosperity through power.”

The Foxfire Society, led by None, a fox Beastfolk who spun countless schemes, advocated “prosperity through knowledge.”

The Bountiful Elephant Army, led by Daddad, an elephant Beastfolk who used monopolized food supplies and the like as leverage, advocated “prosperity through wealth.”

Woa: "They may have been born Beastfolk, but I do not care about fools who abandon that meaning to squabble over a worthless summit... Still, we cannot allow the seeds from which our future brethren will be born to be crushed."

Finally, there was the Warwolf Corps, made up solely of dog and wolf Beastfolk. It was led by Woa, a wolf Beastfolk who wished only to fight the “Beast King” they revered and feared.

Woa was both the captain and the Guide (Leader).

With a sigh that sounded thoroughly reluctant, Woa selected three dog Beastfolk from the corps, entrusted each with a message, and sent them running.

Woa: "Our purpose is the Beast King... the great Lycagon alone. We cannot halt for a trivial matter like dragons."

Lycagon, one of the seven Colossi and the strongest “wolf,” was for the Warwolf Corps both the summit they needed to defeat... and an object of devotion they longed for enough to carve into their flag.

The path of wolves who, through countless generations, could only chase its lingering traces would take a sudden turn not long from now...

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The spark of conflict does not always have noble roots.

Sometimes, a long-standing feud ends merely because one girl acts as an intermediary.

Freedom is not one’s circumstances. It lies in one’s own will and the actions that follow from it.

Having reached that conclusion, the people who bore traces of dragon power decided of their own will to help the black dragon and the girl.

Noirlind: "Hmph. Despite receiving the honor of bearing my traces, you are remarkably slow."

Akitsu Akane: "Everyone starts out weak! They get stronger from there! Oh, but Noirlind, you were strong from the beginning, so does that mean you just keep getting stronger?!"

Noirlind: "Kukuku... As flattery goes, that passes. Fine. I shall forgive your fawning, insignificant as dust."

Akitsu Akane: "Even dust piled up becomes a mountain, Noirlind!"

Noirlind: "...? Hm. Yes, I suppose. Indeed."

For only a moment, the pressure radiating from the black dragon flying slowly through the sky wavered.

But perhaps having regained composure, Noirlind once more wrapped itself in overbearing, arrogant pressure.

Akitsu Akane: "I heard from my... um, friends? Teammates? That it looks like not only Siegwurm, but the other dragons are coming too."

Noirlind: "That old fossil, that small fry, that lunatic... and that arrogant fool had already become a corpse, was it not? Hmph. They are merely weaklings who greedily cling to life. My target is Siegwurm alone."

Akitsu Akane: "I agree that narrowing down your target is important. But Noirlind, it seems you have built up quite a lot of resentment among the people at the frontline base... so we’re going to help you!"

Dragonfolk: "Aye!"

The black Dragonfolk flying after Noirlind answered in unison, like chicks following a parent bird.

Unlike Noirlind, they could not remain airborne constantly. They periodically dropped toward the ground, then used trees, rocks, and other objects as footholds to leap again, following Noirlind in slow, low flight.

Noirlind: "Very well. If you are willing to eliminate the maggots swarming around me of your own accord, I may grant you the honor of following in my wake."

Akitsu Akane: "Hehe. A challenge is only a challenge when you face it in the best possible condition! Noirlind, focus on fighting Siegwurm!"

Noirlind: "...Hmph."

The black dragon said nothing more and faced forward.

But it did not shake the girl from its back.

Nor did it cast away the small shadows following behind.

A dragon gets purified by the light element and turns tsundere—seriously?

I wanted to show a lot more, but I wanted to move the plot along, so: Digest Compilation Technique!!