The harvest proceeded at a brisk pace.
It was a race against the onset of winter. No one knew exactly when the first cold snap would hit.
The Civil Official Girls tallied the harvested crops and saw them safely into the storehouses. I had considered holding onto the surplus this year, but I had social obligations to maintain.
First, we participated in the trading sessions we called "exchange markets" with Howlin Village. At this time, Galf and the others who had been staying with us joined the caravan to return to their home.
"I owe you one," Galf said.
"Really? You spent most of your time at your daughters' place. I don't recall doing much for you myself."
"Hahaha. True, but you kept me fed and supplied with sake. Yeah, this is a fine village."
"...Have you finished your goodbyes?"
"Yeah. It’s hard to leave them, but my wife and my other daughters are waiting for me back home."
"Don't worry. As long as they're here, I'll look after them."
"I know. I'm grateful that you took in my daughter... no, all my daughters."
"Well, come back and visit when things settle down."
"I will. I won't be a stranger."
Tia and Rusty took charge of the trade with Howlin Village, and they worked hard to make it a success.
Next, we sent out "seasonal gifts"—which were essentially shares of the harvest—to Draim, Dos, and Raimeiren. It might seem strange to give away food when we were worried about our own supplies, but these were intended as sales in all but name. We sent the gifts in expectation of a return.
It felt a bit mercenary to give gifts just to get something back, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I needed to convert the crops into cash or jewels as quickly as possible.
Our dealings with Beezel were the same. We sold him food and received payment in cash. Then, we took a portion of the harvest to Michael-san in Shashato City, using the proceeds along with our savings to buy up more food. Since I had discussed this with him in advance, he already had the supplies ready for us.
"It feels strange to sell food only to buy more food," one of the Civil Official Girls remarked during the procurement trip.
I understood her sentiment, but this time we needed quantity over quality. To make up for it, I asked them to prioritize seafood over grains.
The goal was for everyone to make it through the winter safely. From next year onward, each village would handle its own farming, so things would stabilize.
...Wait. Could the Minotaurs, Centaurs, and Nyunyu-daphne actually farm? Well, they had survived on their own before coming here, so it should be fine.
Come to think of it, I hadn't actually asked if they had any agricultural experience. Was it even possible for them? The Nyunyu-daphne, in particular, didn't seem suited for it.
There was no point in forcing people into inefficient work that didn't fit them. I’d have to consult with them about that later.
Food was hauled into the village in a steady stream. I wanted to build proper storehouses, but that had to be put on hold. Instead, I focused on digging more cellars, which were easier to construct, and packed the supplies away there.
Once the harvesting and trading were finished, anyone with free hands rushed to Village Two for construction. We were building large houses for the Minotaurs. Since two-story buildings of that scale would be too difficult to construct quickly, we stuck to one-story houses.
We left the interiors for later. For now, the priority was the roofs, followed by the walls, and then winterproofing to ward off the cold. Since the Minotaurs were able to assist with the labor, the work progressed at a remarkable pace.
I also traveled to Village Two to handle the construction of the wells and outhouses. While I returned to the Village of the Great Tree each night, most of the construction crew stayed over at Village Two to save time on the commute, as the distance between the two settlements was quite significant.
To protect the workers, a fair number of Kuro's pack and Zabuton's Children moved to the area around Village Two. Their absence made the Village of the Great Tree feel a little lonely.
While the Minotaur adults lived at the construction site in Village Two, their children remained at the Village of the Great Tree. The Centaurs took over the role of caretakers.
As their appearance suggested, the Centaurs were exceptional runners. Their preferred combat styles—high-speed charges, hit-and-run maneuvers, and maintaining distance for ranged attacks—all relied on their speed.
It turned out that the reason Gluewald and the others had struggled against the rabbits in the forest was simply because they didn't have room to run. On open roads, they were formidable.
With that in mind, I asked them to act as transport and liaison personnel between the Village of the Great Tree and Village Two. If they were allowed to simply outrun any monsters or demon beasts they encountered rather than fighting them, every Centaur adult—not just Gluewald—could contribute.
They formed teams of five and ran the route. It took them about thirty minutes to go from the Village of the Great Tree through Village One and on to Village Two. Based on that, they were likely hitting speeds of forty kilometers per hour. When I asked, they said they could go even faster, though I told them not to push themselves.
Still, I was curious about their top speed. When I had them try a time trial, they cleared the distance in about twenty minutes. Truly impressive.
"Village Head," Gluewald said to me one day. "I noticed you have horses in your pasture. Do you go riding?"
"Hmm? Ah, I do, but... well, I'm mostly just being carried around. They don't really listen to me."
I wondered if Gluewald could talk to the horses. If she could, maybe she could tell them to listen to me? Then again, if the horses had complaints, I should hear them out. Maybe they didn't like the names I’d given them? I had absolutely no confidence when it came to naming things.
"In that case, Village Head... would you like to try riding me?"
"Eh?"
"Since we can actually talk to one another, I think you'll find me much easier to ride than a horse."
"E-err..."
I looked at Gluewald's lower half—the horse part. Yes, it was definitely a horse. I looked at her back. It seemed rideable. It seemed rideable, but...
"Is it really okay for me to ride?"
"Yes. Please."
Gluewald bent her legs and lowered herself, so I tentatively straddled her back. She stood up. It was high—exactly the height of being on a horse.
"I'm walking now," she said.
Gluewald walked briskly. My seat swayed with her gait. It felt exactly like being on a horse.
"I'll pick up the pace a little."
Oh, this was definitely riding.
"I'm going to run."
...It was scary fast. I realized then that riding without a saddle or stirrups was quite dangerous.
From that day on, Gluewald began carrying me whenever I needed to go to Village Two. Granmaria and the others watched her with slightly jealous eyes. Kuro and his pack were the same. I could understand the angels, but I'd never even tried to ride Kuro or the wolves.
To make matters worse, the horses got sulky. I felt bad. I didn't mean to neglect them, but they just wouldn't listen to me. It took quite a bit of effort to get them back into a good mood. I decided that whenever I rode Gluewald, I should try to stay out of the horses' sight.
"Village Head! Waterwheel Prototype No. 6 is complete! This time, it'll work for sure!"
The Mountain Elves' progress on the waterwheel hadn't been smooth. Prototypes No. 1 and No. 2 had failed to turn at all. No. 3 turned, but it couldn't scoop water. No. 4 worked for both, but after a few days, the rotation warped and it broke; it also didn't scoop enough water to be useful. No. 5 was built for durability, but it ended up so heavy that it wouldn't turn.
And then came No. 6. Using the successful aspects of No. 4 as a base, they used iron for the waterwheel axle to boost durability. To increase the volume of water, they made it massive—over three meters in diameter.
Even though they had lightened it as much as possible, we needed Rusty in her dragon form to help transport it to the site. We built a stand in the river to secure the wheel. We'd gone through about three prototypes for that stand as well.
"Position check, all clear! Lower the wheel!"
Almost all the Mountain Elves were there to watch. With a heavy clunk, the waterwheel was lowered into place, and the axle settled into the stand.
Then... slowly, pushed by the river's current, it began to move.
Cheers erupted. However, no water was being scooped up. A gloomy atmosphere settled over the group, as if they had failed yet again.
"Ah!"
The waterwheel was facing the wrong way. Of course it wouldn't scoop anything. We took the time to reinstall it correctly and checked it again. This time, it successfully scooped the intended amount of water.
"Thank goodness. Truly, thank goodness."
The Mountain Elves were moved to tears.
"Honestly, I thought this would be easy. I underestimated it." "To think we had to account for the weight of the wood itself..." "Ugh. But it was fun." "I've already found three things we can improve on." "Regardless, I'm just glad it works." "So... we need two more of these, right?"
I wasn't sure yet if we'd be farming there, but having a way to draw water from the river would be useful no matter what. I’d let them keep at it.
About forty days after the harvest ended, twenty-five large one-story houses were finished. As each house was completed, the Minotaurs moved in, allowing us to identify and fix any issues immediately.
With that, I felt we had finally solved the housing problem for the Minotaurs. The original plan to have them winter in the Northern Dungeon was now shifted to the Centaurs.
"If possible," Gluewald requested, "we would like to stay here under your care during the winter as well."
I wanted to grant her wish, but the winter cold was brutal. It might be manageable for one or two people, but there were over a hundred Centaurs, including children.
"Let's speed up the construction of Village Three."
I would do everything in my power before winter arrived.