It was winter.
In a corner of the mansion, Lu was hunched over a tub of hot water, scrubbing a mountain of small plates and bowls. She was doing so with a cheerful smile on her face. These were her personal tools, the ones she used for her research into medicinal herbs and the like.
Did the fact that she was washing them mean her work was finished?
Hardly.
If her research were complete, Lu would be the type to obsess over the results. She would usually leave the tedious cleanup of her equipment to the High Ogre maids. The fact that she was doing it herself meant that her research had hit a dead end, or perhaps even suffered a major regression.
That was why no one should approach Lu right now.
Trying to help would be a mistake. Suggesting she use magic to clean them would be even worse. As she washed, Lu was holding a private review meeting in her head, dissecting her failures while already plotting her next project. The best thing to do was leave her be.
I caught the eye of a nearby High Ogre maid, and we shared a silent nod. Then, both of us hurried over to Lu to ask if she needed a hand.
Leaving her alone might have been the optimal choice, but it wasn't the correct answer. I had to make a show of acknowledging how hard she was working. Normally, Lu is perfectly reasonable, but when she enters "researcher mode," she can be a bit of a handful. No, I take that back—even that side of her is adorable.
Tia and Ruincia were sitting at a table nearby, sipping tea. They weren't speaking; they were engaged in their usual silent dialogue through their wings. Observing them from a distance, the conversation seemed quite lively, though I didn't have the slightest clue what they were "saying."
If Tiselle were here, she might have been able to translate some of it for me.
My other daughter, Aurora, was over with Malbit. Since her own daughter, Kierbit, hadn't returned yet, Malbit seemed to be soothing her loneliness by doting on Aurora. If Aurora looked like she hated it, I would have stepped in, but she didn't seem to mind. Malbit spoiled her in a much more obvious way than Tia or Ruincia did.
However, Reginleiv, an elder of the Angel Race, soon arrived to whisk Aurora away from Malbit. Lananon and the other children were with her; apparently, they had made a promise to play together.
Once Aurora was gone, Malbit’s shoulders slumped in visible despair. Ah, she was heading over to Tia and Ruincia's table now. I hadn't realized Malbit could converse with her wings, too. You learn something new every day.
Ria and most of the High Elves were away from the village. They were currently serving as archery instructors in Village Five. While Village Five had plenty of people to teach the sword, they were short on archery experts, so they had reached out to us for help.
There was an elf village near Village Five ruled by a woman who called herself the Bow King, but her people were currently preoccupied with the mass production of bows and arrows.
When the request first came in, Ria and the others were a bit reluctant. Even if it was only for the winter, they worried that students who were only half-taught might end up causing accidents. However, Yoko assured them that she would provide the primary teachers; Ria and her group would simply be there to assist and give light guidance. That was enough to convince them.
It also helped that Lilius, Rigul, and Ratte—who were staying at Yoko's place for their social studies—had expressed an interest in learning the bow. Of course, because of that, the three of them ended up under the strict tutelage of a very motivated Ria.
It was a form of parent-child communication, so I stayed out of it. As their father, I could have said something, but Ria had already explained that archery would be a vital skill for their future, so I kept my mouth shut. I trusted them.
What I did have something to say about was the new archery range built alongside the training grounds. It had been constructed as an experiment to give more people a chance to try their hand at the bow.
A participant would enter a private booth and fire arrows at targets across an open lane. These weren't stationary targets, either; they popped up or moved around, mimicking the erratic behavior of wild animals and monsters. It was quite practical. Scores were assigned to the targets, and participants competed for the highest total. It was essentially an archery version of an arcade light-gun game.
The only downside was that, despite the range being quite large, only one person could use it at a time. If multiple people fired at once, it would be impossible to tell whose arrow hit what.
The Village Five Council managed the range, but the Mountain Elves had built it with help from the High Elves and a group of local volunteers. During the day, the difficulty was lowered for children, and it was proving to be quite popular. However, everyone was required to take a brief introductory lesson before they were allowed to play. A bow is a weapon, after all; it can't be treated lightly.
Participants also had to be careful about their clothing so the bowstring wouldn't snag. For the women, chest guards were strongly recommended. Apparently, getting struck in the bust by a snapping bowstring was incredibly painful.
I struck up a conversation with one of the Mountain Elves overseeing the facility.
"From what I can see, it looks like hitting the targets is quite a challenge."
"It is," the elf replied. "The movements are fairly complex."
"I thought people might be able to figure out the patterns by watching others play."
"Predicting the movement is one thing, but actually landing the shot is another."
"I see... Do you think you need to make it a bit easier?"
"Yes, probably. And we also need to do something about the crowd."
"On that front," the elf continued, "we're planning a new layout with long, narrow lanes, similar to a bowling alley."
"That sounds like a great idea. Is the budget holding up?"
"Yes. The Village Council is very supportive of it as a new form of entertainment."
"I'm looking forward to seeing it. I might give it a try myself."
"We'd love to have you. Actually, Village Head, would you like to go right now?"
"Thanks, but look at that line. It wouldn't be right."
"For you, we could give top priority."
"No, I can't go cutting in front of everyone. I'd be hated. Maybe another time."
"That’s a shame."
"Haha, I'll find a chance. By the way, what are all those names on that board over there?"
"That’s the scoreboard. People tend to get much more competitive when their names are on display."
"I can imagine. I see Lilius and the others are near the top. Is that thanks to Ria's training?"
"Well, there is a 'Reception Mode' for guests, but we haven't used it for them."
"You actually built a Reception Mode?"
"Several people suggested we should have one ready for when the nobles visit."
"Fair enough. And why is this labeled the 'Daytime Division'?"
"Because the 'Nighttime Division' is a different beast entirely."
Curious, I went back that night to see for myself.
The movement of the targets was on a whole different level compared to the afternoon. Most of them were only visible for a split second. Others would suddenly rush toward the shooter. They were incredibly fast, and the facility even used magic to create feints and distractions. I doubted I could have scored a single point.
The top of the Nighttime scoreboard was dominated by Ria and the other High Elves. Even Kinesta, the manager of Kuro and Yuki, had her name up there. Since she was a former Imperial Princess of the Elf Empire, her skill with a bow wasn't entirely surprising.
Suddenly, the scoreboard flickered as it was updated. The name in the number one spot was now Rigne, Ria’s mother.
"To think a perfect score is this easy to get..." Rigne remarked as she stepped out. "If you don't make this more difficult, it won't be of any use in a real fight."
Behind her, the Mountain Elves looked absolutely mortified.