The new residents of Village One had originally lived in the city. However, they didn't have any specific trades, so I had no idea what they could or couldn't do. I decided to have them try their hand at various tasks.
First, I tested them on hunting. Even when the entire group went out fully armed, they couldn't defeat a single Fanged Rabbit. I was surprised, but Kuro's children, who were in charge of the village's defense, were absolutely floored. It would be more accurate to say they were traumatized. They looked at me with eyes that seemed to ask, "How has such a weak species managed to survive until now?"
Well, I'm pretty much the same way, so I can't really judge.
The number of Kuro's children guarding Village One was immediately doubled. They realized that if even a single Fanged Rabbit managed to sneak into the village, it could lead to total annihilation. They seemed to take on a much more serious air after that. I felt a bit guilty for increasing their workload.
At the same time, Zabuton's children also sent reinforcements. Four of them, who had grown to the same size as Makura, joined the detail. They built nests to guard the four cardinal directions of the village. I’m counting on you guys.
To strengthen the defensive front and act as combat instructors, two Lizardmen were also stationed there permanently for the time being. I hope they work hard for the sake of the migrants' safety.
Next, I tried them on construction. Since none of them had ever been involved in building anything, they were complete amateurs. Furthermore, they weren't particularly strong, so they struggled immensely. The High Elves, who were there to teach them cooking, tried to give them pointers, but progress was slow. Even when I prepared pre-processed building materials so they only had to assemble the pieces, it still took them a long time. Incidentally, their first project collapsed within twenty-four hours.
Then came sake brewing. Everyone gave up under the intense guidance of the Dwarves. True to their reputation, the Dwarves were stubborn as steel. And terrifying. I realized that unless you possessed a heart of iron and the absolute resolve never to waste a single drop of alcohol, you wouldn't last a day in that workshop.
Sugar and oil pressing followed. They simply lacked the power for it. Having less physical strength than the beastman boys is... well, I'll just have to improve the pressing machines. It’ll be fine. Don't look so depressed.
Handicraft, however, showed promise. Several of them demonstrated a real talent for it. Their work is still unrefined, but with proper training, I think they’ll produce some excellent pieces.
They were also all able to help with making fermented foods. It seems they have a high tolerance for strong smells. The fact that they got to taste the delicious finished products first probably helped motivate them.
As for smithing, that requires a kiln to melt iron. While we were in the middle of building one, the High Elves and Gatto, one of the beastmen, took over the construction with great enthusiasm. If the veterans do everything, the newcomers will never learn. Furthermore, the migrants dropped out of the smithing lessons almost immediately, leaving the High Elves and Gatto in total control of the forge.
Was the kiln back in the Village of the Great Tree not good enough for them? Apparently, they couldn't work at night back there. I recalled telling them to keep it down because of the noise...
For that same reason, I told them to stop working at night here as well. They argued that you have to look at the color of the fire at night to judge the temperature. Is that really how it works? Hmm.
We eventually settled the matter by building a large smithy in a secluded area near the Village of the Great Tree. Currently, the migrants are using the kiln in Village One for pottery. Since they had designed the kiln so it could also be used for ceramics, the veterans probably never intended to hog it for ironwork in the first place.
In pottery, just as with handicrafts, several people showed talent. The migrants this time around might lack brawn, but they seem to be quite dexterous.
Finally, there was agriculture. Everyone was a complete novice. Their level of knowledge was basically: "If you scatter seeds, don't they just grow on their own?"
For now, I'm the one tilling the fields, and they are in charge of maintenance. I didn't make the fields too large—just a size they can manage without overextending themselves. I also set up kitchen gardens behind each of their houses. For those plots, I let them plant whatever they wanted. I want them to learn the joy of nurturing life and the satisfaction of a harvest first. We can deal with the grueling parts of farming later.
I had them try various other things as well. They worked hard at every task, but they are still incredibly inexperienced. That’s only natural, of course. It’s not like I was able to do everything perfectly from the start. In fact, if they had shown up and been better at everything than me right away, I would have been the one feeling depressed.
The goal wasn't for them to be perfect; it was to find out what they could and couldn't do. If they managed to find something they actually enjoyed doing while trying all these tasks, that was plenty for me. I told them not to overthink it and prepared a home-cooked meal for everyone.
A representative for the migrants was officially chosen. It turned out to be Jack, the man who had been acting as their informal leader until now. I suppose he just transitioned from being the "de facto" leader to the "official" one.
Life in Village One has become quite stable. They are getting along well with the Nyunyu-daphne living in the same village. As for trouble, it’s mostly been trivial things—like a Nyunyu-daphne accidentally walking around completely naked, leading to a husband getting scolded by his wife for looking. It stays within the village, and Mam handles it.
Recently, they’ve even started interacting with the Minotaur race from Village Two and the Centaur race from Village Three. In the beginning, they could barely hold a conversation, but now they are proactively approaching the other races. It’s a good sign.
I have my own work to do, though. Regrettably, I can’t spend all my time at Village One. Leaving the rest to Mam and the Nyunyu-daphne, I returned to the Village of the Great Tree.
The Dragons who came to celebrate Hakuren’s pregnancy have all gone home. Dos held out until the very end, but Raimeiren eventually dragged him away. Thinking about the future, if my own daughter... if Tiselle were to ever get married...
No. I found myself getting a bit choked up. I'll try not to think about it.
The harvest is still a little way off. Until then, I’ve been keeping busy with smaller tasks. First, I planned to equip the rear cars with leaf springs, but the Mountain Elves had already finished that. They’re probably higher quality than anything I could have made anyway.
Instead, I focused on building the smithy that the High Elves and Gatto wanted. We selected a site on the south side of the residential area. First, we built one large kiln. This wasn't the main forge, but a brick-making kiln to create the materials for the main structure. Using magic extensively, we produced a massive amount of bricks and set them to dry. In the meantime, we built a charcoal kiln for fuel and started a burn.
Before long, three large kilns were completed. Unlike the ones we had before, these were specialized for melting iron. I suppose they’re more like forges than kilns.
Why three, though? To allow for different temperatures and different materials? Ah, I see. If it's necessary for the craft, then it can't be helped. I’m handing out Reward Medals for this project, too.
Finally, it was time to light the fires. Gatto looked the most delighted of all. He's the son of the village head of Howlin Village, a place where mining and smithing are the lifeblood of the community. It was only natural that Gatto would end up in charge here. Actually, he already has.
"Village Head. First, I will forge the Fire God."
The "Fire God" is an iron object shaped like a flame. According to the customs of Howlin Village, it’s the first thing that must be made to pray for safety and success in a new smithy. Gatto melted down an iron ingot from his home village and finished it in no time.
It was simple in design. It looked like a long, vertical iron plate with a twist in the middle. He bent the bottom of the plate so it could stand on its own. It looked like a piece of modern art.
"Village Head. The next item will be the forge's first official work. What would you like it to be?"
I initially thought about letting him choose, but Gatto’s eyes were so serious that I gave it some thought. When I think of a smithy, the first thing that comes to mind is a swordsmith.
"In that case... make a sword."
"A sword?"
"Hmm? Was that a problem?"
"No. I just didn't expect a request like that from you, Village Head. Understood. I shall forge a sword."
A sword. It seems like a fitting symbol for a smithy. I just hope people don't start thinking this is a weapons shop. Personally, I would have preferred a katana, but I don't really understand the intricacies of the curve or the layering of soft and hard steel. I’ll try to gently mention the theories I know another time. I left the rest to him.
We’ve had small smithies before, but this new large-scale facility makes it much easier to obtain iron products. Maintenance and repairs will be far more efficient now. One way or another, we always seem to need iron.
However, while our demand for raw iron ore will increase, the number of finished goods we buy from Howlin Village will drop. If we don't find a way to compensate them, their livelihood might suffer. For now, I'll continue to order the carriage springs from them. I'll have to sit down and consult with Gatto about it later.
Before I knew it, it was time for the first harvest. It’s a bountiful one again this year. As I celebrated the yields, I realized just how hot it had become. It’s almost time for the festival. I wonder what we’ll do this year.