Swans were not suited for racing. Yet, they had been doing it quite regularly until now. Why? Because the performances were staged.
Odette and Odile were Divine Messengers. Unlike Niz, who had ascended from a mere snake to her current status, they were beings created directly by a god. I hated to admit it, but they were incredibly high-ranking individuals. Consequently, the other swans followed their lead without question, ignoring their migratory instincts and territorial boundaries to participate in the races. Or rather, they were able to pretend to race because it was all choreographed.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Odette, who had recovered from the exhaustion of pond-building and resumed her human form, interrupted my train of thought. "You make it sound like we were forcing them to do it!"
"Was that not the case?" I asked.
"It wasn't! Odile, explain it to him."
"Are you not going to explain it yourself?"
"Odile is better at explaining things," Odette insisted.
I see. According to Odile’s explanation, the swans participating in the races were outcasts who had lost their territorial disputes and had nowhere else to go. Once a swan lost its battle and could no longer secure enough food, finding a new feeding ground was nearly impossible. Even if they were lucky enough to find one, those areas were often already occupied by Magic Beasts or Monsters. Among their kind, it was well-known that a swan who lost its territory was simply waiting to die of starvation.
Odette and Odile had guided those refugees to this pond and provided them with protection. In order to repay their debt to the two sisters, the swans had agreed to race.
So that was how it was. I had thought Odette and Odile were just living a life of leisure, but they were actually performing their duties quite diligently.
"Of course we were," Odette huffed. She puffed out her chest with a smug, triumphant look on her face.
Now, to return to the point... in the end, the swans were not racing of their own volition. They were only doing it because Odette and Odile had asked them to.
"Well... I suppose it comes down to that. But we aren't forcing them," Odette muttered.
A request from someone you cannot refuse is, for all intents and purposes, a forced command.
"Muuu."
Regardless, the real issue was whether or not the swans could perform in a race without it being staged. Could they actually do it? When I asked Odette, she looked to Odile for an answer. Odile, in turn, looked toward the swans. After appearing slightly troubled for a moment, the swans looked back at me with steady, honest eyes.
So they could do it? The swans nodded in unison.
What about their seasonal migration? If food was provided, was there no need to migrate? Were they truly prepared to settle here permanently?
I see. "Alright then. I will prepare the best food possible. I look forward to seeing you race with all your might."
And so that was settled. However, there were the Ducks and Domestic Ducks who had been watching the exchange from the shadows. Unfortunately, their turn had been canceled. I felt bad for them.
Wait, were they not migratory birds as well? Even if they claimed to have the fighting spirit to stay... alright, alright, I understood. Once we had enough participants, I promised to hold Duck Races and Domestic Duck Races on the days when the White Swan Races were not scheduled.
Would that satisfy them? Since that was decided, they mentioned they wanted nameplates so they wouldn't be targeted by hunters. That was a fair point. The swans were protected by Odette and Odile, but the ducks might not be. In fact, they might even be bullied by the larger swans.
"I understand. I’ll prepare necklaces with nameplates for you. I’ll also have Odette and the others tell the swans not to attack you. In exchange, you understand the rules, right? No collusion or staging when you race. I expect you to give it your all."
Now, regarding the food for the swans, ducks, and domestic ducks, I already had a solution in mind: the Pond Turtles. They had mentioned they were experts at cultivating water plants. When I checked with them, they agreed to take on the task and told me to leave everything to them. I was grateful for their help.
The only unexpected part was that several Pond Turtle children ended up being assigned to the swans' pond. I had offered to enlarge the Reservoir of the Village of the Great Tree if it was getting too crowded, but apparently, that wasn't the issue. The turtles were seeking training. While the village reservoir was safe, its very safety meant they couldn't gain any real-world experience. Furthermore, because there were so many turtles in the village, they could survive without ever having to push their abilities.
The adult turtles decided this state of affairs was detrimental to their growth. However, they couldn't simply send the young ones into dangerous territory without reason. That was why this Swan Pond was the perfect compromise. It was near Village Five, and Odette and Odile were there to maintain order. While the young turtles might not gain much combat experience, managing a pond by themselves would provide a necessary sense of responsibility and tension.
And so, three Pond Turtles were selected—three serious individuals chosen from among the younger generation. Usually, in situations like this, you’d expect the ones with too much curiosity or the troublemakers to be sent away, wouldn't you? Apparently, even though it was for training, the turtle elders viewed this as a professional assignment and wanted to send their most reliable candidates. They didn't want to push anyone who would be a nuisance onto me.
I see. I should also strive to ensure I didn't push anyone troublesome onto others.
In the distance, I thought I heard the Demon King's voice saying, "Please, I beg of you." It was probably just my imagination.
Once the High Elves finished the construction of the facilities, they built a massive manual information board to display the names, numbers, and betting odds for the swans. It was large enough to be seen from quite a distance. Since the updates were done manually, workers would have to use ladders to swap out the signs.
Normally, the Mountain Elves would handle this sort of thing, but I had tasked them with creating the Automatic Betting Ticket Branding Machines. These were essentially golems that could automatically brand the numbers chosen by customers onto wooden plaques. Because the machines had to include the race name and the date in addition to the numbers, they were quite large. However, their size was matched by their high performance.
Although it took about five minutes for the initial startup, once they were running, they could brand about forty plaques per second. And these weren't just duplicates—they could handle different numbers in succession. The Mountain Elves were particularly proud of the counting function, which tracked how many plaques were branded for each number. This would be incredibly helpful, though I intended to keep a separate count just to be safe. It wasn't a matter of trust, but rather a need for strict management since those numbers determined the payout odds.
I planned to have several of these machines made. No matter how fast they could brand the wood, the bottleneck would be the exchange of money with the customers, so one machine wouldn't be enough to handle the crowd. I hoped the sales would be high enough to justify the extra units.
Finally, we needed people to calculate the payouts. This required skilled arithmetic. The help that arrived came from the Angel Race—five members of the Angel Race disguised as demons.
Initially, I had thought about asking Count Pugyal to find accountants for us. He was a noble who oversaw the human villages near Howlin Village, we had dealt with him regarding Beton during the winter, and he was the father of Gol’s wives as well as some of our long-time Civil Official Girls. I thought it was a good opportunity to deepen our ties. Lu had suggested as much.
However, despite trying several different channels, I couldn't manage to get a meeting with him. As an alternative, Count Glitch was suggested, as he was also the father of Gol’s wives and some of the girls in the village. But that also fell through; I simply couldn't catch him.
Left with no other options, I reached out to the Angel Race, as they had members to spare. I hadn't asked them first because I feared they might find gambling beneath them. They were fond of conspiracies and secret maneuvers, but they could be surprisingly fastidious about strange things. To my surprise, their reaction was entirely different than I had expected.
They apparently loved gambling. And they were even more fond of working behind the scenes.
"I understand," I told them. "I get it, so please stop suggesting ways to fix the races."
It didn't matter if they claimed the cheating would "definitely not be discovered." Staging and rigging were strictly forbidden. We were going to run this fairly. I wanted those five to work hard not just on the calculations, but also on sniffing out anyone else who might be trying to cheat.
Village Head: "I'll make sure not to push anyone who would be a nuisance onto others." Village Head: "Hm? What's wrong, Demon King? Why are you whispering Tiselle and Urza's names?" Count Glitch: "Pugyal? What's the matter all of a sudden?" Count Pugyal: "Never mind that, just run! At full speed!" Count Glitch: "Eh? What? What?"