The martial arts tournament drew to a close.
The absolute highlight had to be the dwarves. They’d been jumping higher than the mansion to launch their attacks, all while wreathed in a shimmering, reddish-purple aura.
Well, in truth, it was all an optical illusion.
They hadn't actually emitted any kind of aura, and their jump attacks had really only cleared about fifty centimeters. However, the dwarves had fought with such desperate intensity that they’d managed to manifest that collective delusion.
The reason for their frantic struggle was the Carbonated Water Making Device.
Once they realized it could be used to mix cocktails, the dwarves decided they absolutely had to have one for themselves. Unfortunately, they didn't have any Reward Medals left to offer Lu as payment; they had already spent their entire stash on securing alcohol supplies and upgrading their brewing equipment.
Then came the tournament.
The dwarves realized that if they performed well enough, they could secure the medals they needed. That was why they had pushed themselves to such extremes. I couldn't help but feel that if they had just asked Lu directly, she probably would have made one for them without demanding medals.
"No, no. That might work for you, Village Head, but she wouldn't lift a finger for the likes of us just because we asked," Donovan told me, flatly rejecting the idea.
Was that really true? It was alcohol-related, so I figured Lu would have been happy to cooperate.
"She might if she were free, but she’s been swamped with the floating garden and other projects, hasn't she? She’d never prioritize our request over her own research."
I suppose he had a point there. But wouldn't it be the same even if they had medals?
"Not exactly. The person we're paying these medals to isn't Lu—it's you, Village Head."
"Me? Not Lu?"
"Exactly. The dwarves collectively earned twenty-seven Reward Medals in this tournament. We're giving all of them to you, so we’d like you to be the one to ask Lady Lu on our behalf."
I see. They had pooled their medals specifically to get me to act as their mediator. Well, I promised to try, though I told them not to be angry with me if it didn't work out.
"We understand. If you can't make it happen, we'll give up."
With that, I decided to do my best.
A few days later, a Carbonated Water Making Device was successfully installed in the dwarves' brewery. They certainly enjoyed the sparkling cocktails, but their main interest was injecting carbonation directly into their wine and other spirits. They looked like they were having the time of their lives, enthusiastically debating which batches were successes and which were failures. That was what mattered most.
By the way, I only kept three of the twenty-seven medals for myself. I gave the remaining twenty-four medals' worth of alcohol back to the dwarves. Some might call me a soft touch, but they really had worked incredibly hard during the tournament.
Shortly after the festivities ended, Sena gave birth early one morning. It happened with surprising speed. The message I received wasn't "Sena has gone into labor," but rather "The baby is here."
Both mother and child were healthy. It was a boy, and his name was Set. I did wonder if it was a bit too similar to his older sister Sette's name, but Sena had her heart set on it, so that was that.
Sette, who had been waiting for the delivery with bated breath, was overjoyed. I understood her excitement, but since he was still a newborn, I had to tell her to leave the actual caretaking to Sena. I made a rule that she could only hold him when an adult was present.
"I know, I know! I'm going to be Set's bestest big sister!" she proclaimed. She was still a bit hyperactive, so I decided to keep a close eye on her for a while—not that I don't usually watch over her anyway.
Sette wasn't the only one celebrating Set's arrival. The beastmen were ecstatic as well. Those who had come to the village with Sena—including her brother Gatto and Galf—offered their congratulations one after another. I was grateful, but I made sure to remind them that Sena was the one who had done the hard work, so they should go congratulate her first.
Beside Sena’s bed, Lananon was busy teaching Sette the proper mindset for being an older sibling. Sette was technically born before Lananon, but since Lananon had become a big sister first when Kukulkan was born, she was the veteran in this regard.
That night, we held a small banquet. It was kept low-key because Sena couldn't participate yet. Even though she felt fine, childbirth is a major ordeal, so we planned to monitor her for about ten days. We’d hold the real celebration at a time that suited her after that.
As winter approached, Zabuton, the majority of her children, and the Pond Turtles in the reservoir began their hibernation. The village always feels a little lonelier during this time, but it can't be helped.
I had wondered if the Pond Turtles that moved to the swan race pond in Village Five would hibernate as well, but apparently, they weren't going to sleep this year. I thought perhaps the water temperature was too high or the swans were being too noisy, but that wasn't it. They explained that because the pond was still new, things hadn't quite settled down yet.
I felt bad for the inconvenience. I told them that if skipping hibernation put any strain on them, they should let me know immediately. They replied that their "grandfather"—the original Pond Turtle from the reservoir—had told them that they were capable of staying awake for centuries if the situation called for it, so this was nothing. Still, I warned them not to push themselves.
I also took the chance to ask if they were getting along with the white swans, the ducks, and the domestic ducks. They seemed to be doing just fine. I told them to reach out if they ever needed anything.
Winter finally arrived in earnest. It was freezing. Just getting out of the kotatsu required a massive surge of willpower.
...Actually, I think I'll stay in here just a little longer. Kuro and Yuki, curled up on either side of me, seemed to be of the exact same mind. We decided to just relax.
It was past noon by the time I finally forced myself to move, driven by a nagging sense of guilt. It wasn't as if I was doing anything wrong, but the weather outside was far too nice to spend the whole day lounging around. Of course, "nice" just meant it was sunny and cold, so I decided to skip the outdoor chores for now and focus on what I could do inside the mansion.
As I walked through the halls, I noticed that the various kotatsu scattered around the house had turned into "Angel Race Hoihoi"—unbreakable traps for the winged residents.
"Look, I'm not saying you can't use the kotatsu," I called out, "but please keep your clothes on properly."
I understood that it got hot after sitting in there for a while, but I had to be firm.
"Let me be clear: do not change your clothes inside the kotatsu. You aren't putting them back on right."
Furthermore, several discarded outfits had been left shoved inside the blankets. Their excuse was that they were "warming them up," but the clothes were just becoming a wrinkled mess.
"I see. Well, why don't you try explaining that logic to the head maid, Ann?"
The angels froze.
"You’d better apologize honestly before the kotatsu are confiscated. It doesn't matter if you bought them with Reward Medals; if the High Ogre maids decide they're interfering with the housework, they'll take them away. And if that happens, you won't see them again until spring."
They could have tried to resist with force, but they knew better than to pick a fight with the women who controlled the kitchen. They became very well-behaved very quickly. From now on, they should really listen when I give them a warning.
It seems like whenever things finally settle down, a whole new set of problems comes knocking. And just like that, another quarter of the year has vanished.
I wonder why that is...