The festival season was finally upon us.
People gathered from every corner: Village One, Village Two, Village Three, Village Four, the Hot Spring Area, and even both the Southern and Northern Dungeons.
Our guest list was impressive: Dos, Raimeiren, Draim, the Demon King, Yuri, Beezel, Gratz, Randan, Hou, Progenitor-san, and Fouche. We were also joined by two of the Previous Generation Four Heavenly Kings from Village Five.
The number of attendees had grown significantly, yet strangely, it didn’t feel like such a massive crowd after seeing the sheer scale of Village Five. It was an illusion, of course.
The actual headcount was... well, I’d lost track.
"We’re at just over eight hundred people. It’s a bit more than we anticipated, but it shouldn't be a problem," one of the Civil Official Girls standing beside me whispered.
A larger-than-usual group of Dream Demons had arrived from Village Four. Given their nature, I’d been a bit worried about their attire and its effect on the children’s education, but they were all dressed as modest village girls. Apparently, Gou and Bell had instructed them to dress appropriately for the setting if they wanted to join the festivities. They had even coordinated with the Goroun Company to purchase second-hand clothing for the occasion.
However, even ordinary clothes couldn't entirely mask their natural allure. There was a certain... quality to their curves that was hard to ignore.
As my eyes began to wander, someone stepped directly into my line of sight to block the view. It was Ann. Her smile was terrifying.
I hadn’t intended to do anything wrong, but I knew when to offer a preemptive apology.
"Sorry. Uh, is it about time?"
"…It appears so. Please take your position."
I nodded and moved to the spot we had agreed upon during our rehearsals. Several Civil Official Girls lined up beside me. One of them climbed onto a slightly elevated stage to deliver the opening remarks. After she finished explaining the safety precautions, it was finally my turn.
I wasn't in my usual practical clothes. Instead, I was wearing a brand-new outfit Zabuton had made for me. When she told me she’d crafted it specifically for today, "no" wasn't an option.
It was a pure white suit-style ensemble, intricately decorated with gold and red embroidery. A cape hung from my shoulders—stark white on the outside with a vibrant red lining. To top it off, I wore a golden crown.
To say I stood out was an understatement. I felt like the lead singer of a visual-kei band. Or perhaps the leader of a very extravagant cheering squad? Given the choice, I think a hat would have been much less embarrassing than a crown.
Was I the only one who felt out of place? The residents certainly seemed to think so; the moment they saw me, a heavy silence fell over the crowd.
Right. Let’s get this over with quickly.
"I hereby declare this year’s festival open! Let's have fun and stay safe!"
My short speech was met with a thunderous roar of approval. Thank you. They were certainly fired up, though the volume caught me off guard.
This year’s festival was divided into three parts, each with a different focus.
Part One was the children's division, which centered around an obstacle race. It featured standard challenges like balance beams, vaults, steep slopes, and net crawls, but we also added mental hurdles like puzzles, riddles, and a section where they had to perform mimicry for the audience to guess. The goal was for everyone to have a chance to shine.
Of course, winning still mattered, so we balanced the heats to ensure the children were roughly equal in terms of physical and mental ability.
The Centaur children were formidable across the board. I expected them to struggle with the net crawl, but they slipped through the gaps with surprising agility.
The mimicry themes were decided by a lottery, so that part came down to pure luck. While anyone was allowed to guess, it was usually a parent or a member of the same race who stepped up to the answering seat. The results were a chaotic mix of laughter and confusion.
"Lizardman child, is mimicking a chicken really that hard?" I muttered to myself. And asking a Harpy child to mimic a lion seemed like a bit of a stretch.
"I hate you, Daddy!" one child wailed after their father failed to guess their act. I felt for the kid, but that was a harsh thing to say. Their father looked like he was about to burst into tears.
Wait, was it my turn at the answering seat? The runner was... Alfred’s group. All right, son, show me what you've got! Let’s prove the strength of our father-son bond!
…Later, Alfred’s gaze was like ice. I did get it right eventually, but only after failing five times. Meanwhile, right next to me, Tia had correctly identified Tiselle’s mimicry on her very first try. I felt terrible.
Elsewhere, Earth the soil doll was slumped in a corner. Apparently, he’d been so devastated by his inability to guess Urza’s mimicry that Hakuren had to step in and replace him. Don't take it so hard, Earth. You did your best.
Part Two was the adults' division: a relay race. There were no obstacles here; it was a pure test of speed on a flat course. Teams were formed voluntarily, so most people naturally grouped up by village or race.
The physical differences between races were massive, but we decided not to worry about it. The faster teams preferred competing against each other anyway. There was no glory in a guaranteed victory. After some discussion among the participants, the heats were finalized.
Baton passing is the soul of a relay, but some races couldn't physically hold one—like Kuro's children or the Harpies. For them, a physical touch was allowed instead. However, we specified that for the wolves, it had to be paw-to-paw, and for the Harpies, wing-to-wing.
The races were intense. The match between the Minotaur race and the Giant race was slow, but the sheer power behind their strides was breathtaking. The heat between the Centaur race, Kuro's children, and a last-minute entry from the horse team was a nail-biter.
In the end, the Centaurs took the gold. Kuro's children fumbled several of their paw-to-paw touches, which cost them precious seconds. The horse team had come up with a clever strategy: they carried one of Zabuton's children on their backs to hold and pass the baton. However, a few mid-race mishaps left them trailing behind. If the fast female Unicorn had been able to run, they might have won, but she was pregnant and sat this one out. Naturally, safety came first, no matter how much she wanted to participate.
The rules allowed anyone to run as many times as they wanted, provided they didn't run two races in a row, so many different combinations of teams were formed throughout the afternoon.
The highlight was a special race between teams assembled by the Demon King, Beezel, Gratz, Randan, and Hou. Each eight-person team had to include the leader themselves and could only have one representative from any given race.
I ended up on the Demon King team. The other teams booed us mercilessly. It’s not like I’m particularly fast; they were just annoyed because my presence made it much easier for the Demon King to recruit top-tier talent.
Our team’s Inferno Wolf was Uno, and he was clearly raring to go. We also had a Zabuton’s child and a Centaur, both of whom were incredibly quick. And then there was Giral. He’d arrived late and missed his daughter Gural’s mimicry—which was a shame, because she was adorable—but the man could run.
The Demon King was already acting like we’d won, but I was worried about being a literal dead weight. The pressure was real.
When the dust settled, Beezel’s team took first place. We came in third. It turned out I wasn't the only handicap on our team; the Demon King was too.
"I’m an expert at moving instantaneously over short bursts," he panted, "but sustained running for this distance is... a bit much."
Besides, the other teams were playing for keeps. Still, it was a lot of fun.
Part Three was the voluntary participation division: the Bon Dance. This was a traditional dance with no winners or losers, based on a proposal I’d made. Explaining the concept had been the real challenge.
"We dance in a circle? Not just spinning in one spot?"
"Everyone does the exact same moves?"
"Accompaniment by drums and noisemakers... understood."
Words only took us so far, but once we built the yagura tower in the center of the clearing and I gave a live demonstration, the idea finally clicked. By now, the residents of the Great Tree Village had a decent handle on the rhythm.
We started with only the local residents to serve as a guide. Seeing everyone moving in perfect synchronization was a beautiful sight. I had originally planned for the drummers to be on top of the tower, but somehow, I ended up being the one standing up there.
I wasn't sure why, but everyone insisted it would "run smoother" that way, and since I was the one who pushed for the dance in the first place, I couldn't really complain. I gave it my all. The music was a bit different from what I remembered, but I wasn't about to nitpick. I was just happy to see it happening.
As the sun set, the festival transitioned into its final phase. The Bon Dance would continue as long as people were willing to move. The post-festival banquet began in tandem.
"Don't dance until you collapse! Take breaks! Rotate the musicians!" I shouted instructions from my perch. "Make room for the kids!"
Surprisingly, the dancing became much more enthusiastic once the sake started flowing. Those who had been shy at first were now jumping into the fray. The choreography was simple enough for anyone to pick up.
The circle around the yagura grew until it was three layers deep. The Demon King’s dancing was particularly... distinct. Dos, Giral, and the Death Knights joined in too, though they completely ignored the choreography in favor of a "freestyle" approach. Honestly? It didn't matter.
Inspired by the chaos, Kuro’s children and Zabuton’s children gathered to form a fourth outer circle. The wolves had a unique style that involved a lot of rhythmic jumping, while the spiders performed a coordinated, adorable dance of their own. It wasn't about being perfect; it was about the spirit of the thing.
Still, as I watched the village celebrate from above, one question remained: When was I going to be allowed to step down from this tower?