04: We Got a Horse! …Or So I Thought, but the Demon Lord’s Army Was Revived!

“Bark! (Thus, this is our veggie pilferer!)”

“Whinny! (I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!)”

The following morning, I turn the horse Nightmare over to old man James.

“Hmm? So this is the culprit?”

The old man, who has come to join us in the fields, crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.

“Wow. Well, he certainly is a big fella, isn’t he?”

My lady, who tagged along from the mansion, looks up at the pitch-black body of the nightmare.

Now, as to why the two of them aren’t afraid of Nightmare, a flaming skeletal horse, we’ll have to go back to last night.

“Woof, woof? (Okay, now that we’ve defeated that grim reaper–like skeleton, how about we go find that stupid horse?)”

After all that, we still don’t know much about whatever that skeleton was.

He came looking for the horse, but they really didn’t seem like buddies. He was way more evil than the horse, after all.

Oh well, even if we did want to question him, he’s now mixed in the earth near the fields with my pee.

“Woof, woof? (By the way, where did you send the horse?)”

Hopefully he’s safe. Wherever he is, he’s probably panicking at being transported there without explanation.

Oh yeah, I guess he’s Nightmare. I remember the skeleton calling him that.

Although I don’t know if that’s a species name or a given name.

“Mew. (I only have three set anchors—the workshop, you, and the hot spring—so I sent him to the hot spring.)”

“Bark. (Hecate would kill you if you sent him to the workshop out of the blue. Wait, you still have an anchor attached to me…?)”

It is convenient to have instant access.

But I wouldn’t mind not having this infringement on my privacy.

“Meow. (Well then, let’s teleport over.)”

“Bark. (All right, then.)”

“Squee. (If you would.)”

As Nahura uses her teleportation magic, everything goes white, and we appear on the riverbed.

A small river runs through the middle of the deep forest. The nearby dug-out hot spring still seems to be working, and steam and the sound of rushing water hang in the air.

“Woof, woof! (Hey! Horse! Nightmare! Where are you?!)”

“Neigh! (I’m over here!)”

Following the sound of the reply, we find the horse submerged in the hot spring.

Lying down, eyes closed, with his head the only thing out of the water, lolling to one side. He appears to be enjoying himself.

“Neigh. (Take a look at this, Routa. It’s amazing, this spring. It’s so warm and feels so good.)”

“Woof. (Doesn’t it? I’m the one who made it, after all.)”

This guy. While we were fighting the skeleton, he was just lazing around here soaking in the tub.

I’m so jealous. I want to get in, too. I peed in that weird position earlier, so now my fur is all damp and cold.

“Woof, woof. (Also, quick question. The flames on your tail and mane have gone out. Is that okay?)”

“Neigh? (Hmm?)”

The horse turns his head to take a look before shooting to his feet with a start.

“Wh-whinny?! (Th-they’ve gone ouuuut?!)”

“Woof, woof. (Calm down, it’s looks like they’ve relit again.)”

As the horse surfaces from the hot spring, its mane ignites once more. The glugging of the water pouring out of the hole in the horse’s stomach is pretty gruesome…

“Wh-whinny?! (I-I’m on fiiiire?!)”

Even the fire sets him off?

I guess he doesn’t understand his own body. I know the feeling.

I also have no idea what this body of mine can do. Or rather, I wish I still didn’t know.

“Neigh! (Oh no! I’m scared!)”

“Squeak? (Are you sure this horse doesn’t have some weird disease?)”

“Mew? (Isn’t he just a scaredy-cat?)”

“Bark? (What can a ghost do if they’re afraid of themself? Kind of makes you question the meaning of existence.)”

Not just amnesia, but to also be afraid of yourself, that’s rough.

“Whinny. (Ph-phew. That was scary.)”

It’s honestly exhausting trying to deal with this guy.

I feel like I’m going to cry.

“Woof? (Hey, do you remember the name Nightmare?)”

“Neigh? (Not at all. Who’s that?)”

“Woof. (I’m pretty sure it’s your name.)”

“Neigh… (Really…? I dunno, that’s a rather mean-sounding name… I’d prefer something cuter…)”

Nightmare gives out a dejected whicker and flap of the lips.

“Bark. (No, looking at you I think the name fits you to a T.)”

After all, you look exactly like a bad dream.

Thus, Nightmare.

I’m sure my dreams are going to get worse, which makes me dread heading home and to bed.

I’ll just have to snuggle up closer to my lady than normal.

Snuggle up nice and tight. Bury my face in her hair.

“Mrow? (Well then, how about the name Mare?)”

“Neigh! (Mare! That name is super-cute! It’s perfect!)”

Nahura uses her gregarious nature to instantly make friends.

“Squeak. (More importantly, we still have to decide what to do with him. What do you think, darling? You said we couldn’t kill him, so I suppose we’ll have to hand him over to the chef.)”

“Bark? (I’d love to do that, but I can’t present the old man with this undead zombie–looking horse, now can I?)”

Something like this would no doubt turn even the stouthearted old man’s stomach.

No matter how you spin it, he’s obviously a monster, and Zenobia will kill him.

“Mrow. (It’d be nice if he could transform himself like Lady Len to look like a mouse or a human or some other creature.)”

“Bark? (That would be a good idea, but there’s no way it’d be that easy, right?)”

Len said it was pretty hard to learn how to transform into her human form, and there’s no feasible way for us to teach him transformation magic right now.

“Squee. (I could do it.)”

“Arwf?! (Wait, you could?!)”

“Squee. (I can set up the ritual. But choosing and holding the form will depend on his magical power and will.)”

Well, isn’t Len a convenient character.

Okay, let’s have Len get a move on with that transformation magic. Then we can bring him before the old man.

“Arwf, arwf. (So basically you’re going to be transformed to look like something else. Are you ready?)”

“Neigh. (A-all right, then. I don’t really know what’s going on, but I can do this!)”

“Squee. (Good, then stay still. That’ll make this easier.)”

Len begins to cast the spell from atop my head. As she moves her paws and chants some creepy incantation, a magic circle begins to rise around Mare’s feet.

“Whinny… (I feel so happy right now. My stomach’s full, I’m warm, and you’re all being so nice to me…)”

While waiting for Len’s spell to be complete, Mare begins reveling in his good fortune.

If food and a bath are all he needs to be happy, I guess that makes him a cheap date.

“B-bark?! (Hey, you! Why is your body disappearing?!)”

Now that I take a closer look, Mare’s body is steadily turning more see-through.

“Whinny?! (Huuuh?!)”

Despite the shock, Mare’s body is still disappearing and has begun to float off the ground slightly.

“Wh-whinny…? (I-I’m—I’m disappearing…?)”

“Mrow. (Maybe he’s passing over. He cleared all his earthly attachments, and so now he’s passing on, or something.)”

Nahura seems kind of laid-back about this whole situation.

But this is a major problem.

This is our veggie thief. We’ve got to hand him over to the old man.

“Neigh. (Thank you, everyone. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. It was short but blissful.)”

“Woof! Woof! (Wait! Hold it! You can’t go yet! You can’t pass on until we turn you in!)”

You can’t just dine and dash!

“Arwf! Arwf! (Len! Hurry it up! We gotta change him from a ghost into something else right now!)”

“S-squeak?! (Wh-what?! You can’t just spring that on me…! Oh well, here we go!)”

As Len lifts her paws above her head, the magic circle glows ever brighter, completely surrounding the vanishing Mare.

“Squeak! (Now it’s your turn, Mare! Picture your chosen form! Not something that you find terrifying, but see your ideal form in your mind’s eye!)”

“Whinny?! (Huh? What? My ideal?!)”

Regardless of Mare’s sudden confusion, Len’s spell finishes, and the magic circle at Mare’s feet flares with sparkling light.

“Okay, something that isn’t scary! Something that isn’t on fire, that isn’t a skeleton, that has amazing fur—”

Then the spell activates.

And that brings us back to the present.

“So you’re our culprit, huh?”

Old man James gives Mare a hard stare-down.

“N-neigh… (Y-yes… I’m sorry…)”

“And did my vegetables taste good?”

“N-neigh! (Th-they did! They were delicious! So fresh and juicy! And the flavor was so rich!)”

Despite the fact that there’s no way he understands what’s being said, the old man gives a satisfied nod.

“Well, good. I’ll start bringing you out some food as well. But that means no more stealing snacks.”

“Neigh! (Right! I’ll never do it again!)”

“Good, good. That’s a good horse.”

The old man strokes the nose of the whinnying Mare before suddenly taking a tight grip.

“Wh-whinny?! (H-huh?!)”

“Well, that’s all well and good, but you still have to work off the portion you’ve already eaten, right?”

The old man’s smirk is definitely scarier than any undead nightmare.

“Wheeze… Wheeze… (I think I can… I think I can…)”

I keep trudging along with a heavy pack on my back.

What horrible penance. It’s tough; too tough.

So this is the punishment for stealing from the fields.

“Woof, woof?! (Hey, wait! Why am I doing it?!)”

I’m not the one who ate the carrots from the field!

That stupid horse over there waiting for me to bring him this stuff is the one who did it!

A big, black horse is casually eating grass over by the road on the far side of a thicket.

Just standing there munching away without a care for all the work someone else is doing on his behalf.

“Arwf. (Ugh, this is soooo heavy.)”

The long containers hanging on either side of my body are made of metal and quite heavy.

If I had tried to carry these uphill without my Fenrir body I would have no doubt collapsed.

“Gwa-ha-ha, sorry, Routa. But we can’t get the cart up this climb to the well.”

The old man has some of the same containers across his shoulders, and he reaches over to give my head a rub.

“Arww! Arww! (Hey, you think you can make up for this with a quick pet?! This dog isn’t that easy to please!)”

“Squee. (That’s not very persuasive when your tail’s wagging like that, darling.)”

Damn! With all the daily petting, my body’s been conditioned to react! Grr! Pet me more!

“Arwf?! (Speaking of, Len! Why don’t you help out?! Why are you enjoying lazing about more than me, when I’m the pet in this situation?!)”

“Squee. (What are you expecting such a delicate maiden as myself to do? Physical labor is the husband’s duty.)”

“Delicate maiden”? Says the one who pounded a skeleton into smithereens yesterday.

And I’m not your husband! You keep saying that, but it’s never gonna happen.

“Hff, hff. Y-you’re so undisciplined. And yet somehow you’re the family dog!”

Zenobia, who is also carrying a few of the canisters, complains behind me.

“I-if you want to be the protector of the Faulks family, you should be able to carry ten to twenty of these.”

She sounds like she’s trying to show me up, but she’s doing no better.

“Bark, bark. (No, I don’t want to be a protector. I’m a pet, not a watchdog.)”

Zenobia trembles back and forth as she climbs. She really looks like she’s struggling.

All this has got to weigh at least a ton.

And while her strength goes above and beyond—as always—it looks like even Gorillanobia has met her match.

The old man even told her to give up, but Zenobia, always brimming with self-confidence, said to leave it to her, so I’m doing exactly that.

After a few more minutes struggling down the mountain path, we finally reach a more open road.

“Hey! Welcome back!”

Lady Mary looks up from where she’s waiting in the bed of the cart.

She’s certainly cute sitting there swinging her feet while she waits, but nothing beats her smile.

“Arwf! (We made it, my lady!)”

I rub up against her after she jumps off the cart.

This helps me recover from the hard labor.

“Mew. (Well done, Routa.)”

Nahura calls out from where she’s sitting with her eyes closed, legs tucked under her.

These two, always slacking off while I’m doing all the work.

“Mew? (What’s that look for? I had the important task of guarding the mistress, and we played and took a nap together.)”

“Arwf! (That’s called slacking off!)”

Damn it. That’s supposed to be my job.

I feel like all I’ve been doing lately is working.

Even though my motto is to take it easy.

“Nice job, Routa. You too, Zenobia—thanks for all the hard work.”

“Wh-what, you mean this? This was easy.”

Your knees are shaking, Zenobia.

“Bark, bark? (So what are these tubes for, then?)”

The sturdy metal canisters contain water that was pulled up from the mountain well.

If we came all the way out here to get it, I figure it has to be fairly precious water.

Given how particular the old man gets as a chef, even about water, it stands to reason.

“Mr. James, what’s so special about this water that we came to get here today?”

My lady asks my question for me.

“Ahhh, guess I didn’t explain. This here is a special type of mineral water.”

The old man opens one of the tubs, and the lid comes off with a pop.

“Wha?!”

“Arwf?! (Whoa, what was that?!)”

Both my lady and I jump in surprise.

Old man James glances over at us while pouring some of the water into a glass.

I stick my nose close to the glass to take a sniff and peer at the water inside.

It looks just like any other water……

Wait, there are little bubbles rising in it.

Could this be…?

“Hee-hee. Routa, your face looks silly through the glass.”

“Arwf? (Oh, does it? Something like this?)”

I change my position and give my lady my best sultry model look, but when she sees it warped by the glass she doubles over laughing.

I’m happy to make her happy. I’ll add this to my list of gags.

As we fool around, old man James adds various things to the glass of water.

He adds thinly sliced apple pieces, and the bubbles begin swirling around them. After pouring some honey over the top, he gives it a quick stir and hands it to Lady Mary.

“Here you go, little lady.”

“Wow, thank you!”

With a glug my lady drinks down the apple-and-honey water.

“Mmm, it’s so bubbly…! Delicious…!”

“Arwf, arwf! (My lady! Share with me!)”

I lick the water that she pours into her hand.

“Arwf! (Whoa, it’s super-carbonated!)”

The bubbles are huge and rise to the top very quickly.

Their power gives a pleasant sensation to the inside of my throat.

The refreshing tartness of the apple and the sweetness of the honey imbue the drink with an almost cider-like taste.

It’s incredibly delicious.

“This is one of the few places you can get carbonated water. It’s somewhat harsh to drink on its own, but it has a lot of uses in cooking. It can help make pancakes fluffier or meats more tender.”

Just as I suspected, it’s carbonated water.

We must be using these carefully sealed metal tubes so it doesn’t leak.

“Our horses have gotten older and their legs weaker, but thanks to our new friend here, I can use this water again.”

The old man pats Mare on the neck over where he’s eating grass by the road.

“Neigh. (I’m happy I could be helpful.)”

“Arwf, arwf. (Yep, work is a good way to repay favors.)”

And because it’s my role to be loved, it’s like I’m always working. So follow my lead.

“Arwf. (But wow, that’s a big cart.)”

I cast an eye over the cart that Mare’s hooked up to.

Sure, Mare’s a huge horse, but even with him pulling it, that’s still one big cart.

And it isn’t the refined type of carriage my lady normally rides in but a rugged cart made to move goods.

Besides a canopy to protect the cargo from rain, there are no adornments.

It’s a 100 percent practical cart.

Normally it would take two horses to pull, but Mare pulled it all the way here without issue.

“I used to use this when I’d go shopping in the city. But then the mansion’s horses got too old to pull it. I’m glad I serviced it every once in a while. Looks like we’ll be able to use it again.”

The old man even services the carts and carriages? He really can do anything.

“By the way, you, you’re pretty obedient. You seem quite comfortable with pulling this cart—were you kept somewhere before?”

“Whinny? (Who knows? I can’t remember, so I don’t know.)”

Mare gives a blank reply despite being absorbed in eating grass.

“Meh, oh well. I got permission from Gandolf, I mean, the master. Even if you have another master, you can stay with us for now.”

“Whinny. (Oh, heh. Thank you very much.)”

Mare gives a happy whinny as the old man strokes him from the top of his head to the tip of his nose.

All while chewing grass. He’s way too focused on eating.

Speaking of which, the sun’s already pretty high in the sky. I’m starving.

As I look to the side, my lady’s tummy gives a cute little rumble as well.

We both look up at the old man with expectant eyes, and he gives a wry grin.

“Well then, we can load this stuff up afterward, so how about we take a break for lunch?”

“Arwf! (Hooray! Lunch! Lunch! I’ve been waiting all day!)”

Sandwiches, sandwiches.

An outing always includes the old man’s sandwiches. Without fail.

“This way, please, everyone.”

While we were carrying the water, Miranda, who came along with Lady Mary, was preparing lunch.

In the shade of a tree she’d put out a mat and a basket holding the sandwiches.

“Woof! Woof! (I’m going to gobble them up! I’ve built up an appetite with all that work, and I’m going to devour them!)”

I bounce over toward the shade.

“Neigh. (Ah, that looks nice.)”

You’re still shoving grass into your face! How are you still hungry?!

“Mew. (Harrumph, none for you. This is a reward for those who’ve been working so hard.)”

Look who’s talking. You just napped on my lady’s lap!

“Squee. (Exactly right. You just need to stay there and watch us.)”

You, too! You just hung out in my fur the whole time!

Why am I amassing a collection of people even lazier and more gluttonous than I?!

I want to be the laziest pet of them all!

My internal screaming reaches no one.

Finally, time for the lunch I’ve been waiting for.

Everyone sits on the mat under the tree.

Miranda and old man James said they’d wait until after my lady ate, but Lady Mary said she wanted to eat with everyone, so we’re all gathered in a circle.

My lady is so nice. And food really is better when eaten with everyone.

I’m already at my limit. I’ve been smelling these sandwiches since the beginning, thanks to my superpowered nose, and there’s no stopping the drool.

My tail wags in expectation and keeps smacking into Zenobia’s cheek, but I take no notice.

“Why, you…”

Zenobia’s forehead starts twitching, but I don’t take any notice of that, either.

Right now the lunch that’s about to start is way more important!

“They’re organized by type, so please, everyone, pick whichever you like.”

The large basket made from woven willow branches is packed with sandwiches.

Miranda transfers them to plates with a pair of tongs.

“Arwf! (They look amazing! And aren’t there more of them and more different types than usual?!)”

There are so many different options, for both the colorful breads made with different nuts and veggies and the fillings, that it’s hard to tell if any two of them are the same.

“Hey, hey, no need to panic. I made plenty so you wouldn’t go eating the young lady’s portion.”

The old man sits across from me and laughs at my floundering paws.

It seems those extra sandwiches are for me, because I’ve been eating more and more lately.

“Arwf. (You’re always looking out for me, old man.)”

But I’m still a growing pup, so it’s not my fault I’m always hungry.

Then again, maybe my endless eating is because the old man’s food is too tasty!

Although, as someone who was aiming to be a plump, pampered pooch, I was kind of hoping to get wider instead of taller. But no matter how much I eat, I keep growing in proportion.

Four strong limbs. Sharp fangs. Keen eyes and ears.

Yep, I’m definitely a wolf, or actually a Fen Wolf, and really the King of the Fen Wolves.

Damn it. Who gave me this body?! Actually, I know. It was that no-good goddess!

Seems like my dog act is nearing the end of its believability.

I’m going to have to take some immediate countermeasures.

Well, I’ve dropped some careless hints. It won’t be long before someone picks up on them.

“Bark, bark! (Oh well, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. But right now, I’ve got these sandwiches!)”

“Mew! (Yep, yep!)”

“Squeak, squeak. (Do be sure to get some for me. I don’t want that cook to see me.)”

Because if he sees you, he’ll exterminate you. Why on earth did you choose to change into a mouse?

You’re the greatest foe of all chefs.

“Squee… (When you transform, you need to have a really strong image of what you’re going to become… It’s easiest to change into something that you’re familiar with, and back in my cave there was nothing but bats and mice…)”

Poor little dragon was all alone.

“Arwf… (I didn’t know; I’m sorry…)”

“Squeak! (Your apology just makes it worse—stop!)”

“Arwf, arwf. (You must have had it hard for a long time. Maybe I can try to be a bit nicer.)”

“Squeak. (Well then, hurry up and marry me so we can fill that hole in my heart.)”

“Arwf. (Not going to happen.)”

Putting all that aside, it looks like everyone has a plate now.

That means we can dig in, right?

Among all the different sandwiches, the first that caught my eye was a simple-looking one stuffed with a thick, rolled omelet.

“Woof! (Looks great! Thanks!)”

My mouth gapes and I dig in.

The thin sandwich bread has been lightly toasted, giving it a nice, crunchy texture.

My nose fills with savory scent as my teeth pass through the bread and into the waiting omelet.

“Arwf… (Hwa, oh my God, it’s soooo fluffy…)”

The sweet flavor of the rolled omelet is soft and mellow, and it melts over my tongue.

And the mustard spread over the bread adds a pungent accent to the flavor. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this sweet-and-spicy combo.

“Meowf. (This fish sandwich is totally delicious.)”

Looks like Nahura has chosen a salmon-and-caper sandwich.

The acidity of the pickled capers pairs perfectly with the smoked salmon.

“Meow? (And which appeals to you, Lady Len? How about the sandwich with the fried fish?)”

Having secured her portion, Nahura is now caringly looking after Len.

In order to keep Len from being seen by the old man, she secretly tears some of her own food into smaller chunks, like we did with the ham way back when, and then uses her levitation magic to slip it to Len, who’s hidden in my scruff.

I don’t want crumbs in my fur, so eat carefully, okay?

“Squeak… (Nahura, I would prefer something other than fish, actually…)”

“Mew…? (Eh? Oh, then how about the one with sardines and cheese…?)”

“Squeak! (That’s still fish!)”

Heh, what happened to that cat who hated mice? Now look how close the two of you are.

It seems that Nahura has chosen another one of her favorites for the next sandwich.

“Mewf! (The saltiness of the fish with the creamy cheese is to die for!)”

“Squeak…? (I mean, it is delicious, but can we please try something else already…?)”

“Mrow? (Ummm, well then, how about the sandwich with the fried whitefish?)”

“Squeak?! (Are you even listening to what I’m saying?!)”

Nahura seems mainly interested in the fish sandwiches. She is a cat, after all.

Although I did hear once, back in my old life, that cats originally preferred meat to fish. The whole “cats love fish” thing came later.

Way back when people didn’t have a custom of eating meat, and without many protein sources besides fish, cats turned to eating it out of necessity.

Though if you really think about it, Nahura isn’t actually a cat. She’s a homunculus in the form of a cat.

So I guess she just likes fish.

“Squeak…! (Accursed cat! Don’t look down on me. Or else I’ll give you a taste of just how terrifying a dragon can be…!)”

“Arwf. (Hey, calm down there, Len. I’ll give you some of mine.)”

I’ve got to keep Len in check before she jumps out of my fur.

It would be the worst if she were to turn into a dragon here.

Surprisingly, she has quite a sweet tooth. So she’ll probably like this rolled omelet sandwich.

I take some food in my mouth, toss it in the air, and let it fall down into my bushy mane.

“Squee, squee! (Hmph, thank you, darling. I can’t believe that I, a proud member of the dragon race, have to sneak about just for food. I wish these humans were more open-minded…… Whaaaaaa?! This is tasty! It’s incredibly tasty! Isn’t it, darling?! It’s delicious!)”

“Arwf, arwf. (Really, now? That’s nice.)”

I thought she was about to start complaining, but the taste of the sandwich brought her back to high spirits.

She may be over a thousand years old, but inside she’s as fickle as a child, it seems.

I guess that little-girl form she takes when she turns into a human is more than appropriate.

“Woof. (Now then, time to choose another sandwich.)

I think I’ve definitely got to choose something with meat this time.

I’ve been keeping my eye on a sandwich filled with a thick pork cutlet and what appears to be something deep-fried.

From where it’s cut, I can see the inside of the cutlet has a nice pink color, showing that it’s perfectly cooked and full of flavor.

I should eat it. I’m going to eat it.

“Neigh! (Routa! Please! I want to eat some, too!)”

Mare’s whinny comes from where he stands, scraping at the ground, still attached to the cart.

“Arwf. (Man, I guess that’s okay. But only one!)”

Otherwise there won’t be enough for me.

I pick up a corn-and-carrot sandwich and carry it toward Mare.

This should be good for an herbivore like him.

Though he’s actually a flaming skeleton zombie, so strictly speaking, he’s not a horse.

But he did say he likes carrots, so I think it’ll work.

“Are you sharing your food with Mare? You’re such a nice dog, Routa.”

Hee-hee, Lady Mary is praising me.

She walks over to where I’m standing, in front of Mare.

“Arwf. (Here you go. You can eat this.)”

“Wh-whinny. (Y-you want me to take it from your mouth? That’s so embarrassing.)”

Just shut up. I’m not too thrilled by this, either.

“Arwf. (If you don’t take it I’m dropping it on the ground.)”

“Neigh! (Wait, wait, wait, I’ll take it! I’ll take it!)”

Mare grabs the sandwich I’m holding for him.

He chews with a weird sideways motion, and then his eyes shoot open.

“Neigh! (This is sooo good! I—I—I can’t believe I’m eating something this delicious…! I’d be fine with ascending now!)”

“Arwf. (Don’t you dare. You haven’t even begun to work yet. You still have to pay the old man back for the food you stole.)”

“Hee-hee. It’s good, isn’t it?”

My lady pets Mare’s nose.

“Wow, it’s so soft and squishy.”

Intrigued by the feel of Mare’s nose, Lady Mary begins stroking it with abandon.

“Whinny! (Wow! These pets feel so good! I’m gonna, I’m gonna…!)”

“Arwf. (I said no! You can’t pass on. Seriously.)”

And so we made it through another enjoyable lunch together.

The Faulks family has gained another new member, and it seems like things are going to get crazy again.

The eastern region of Feltbelk Forest.

While it is still under the jurisdiction of Marquis Faulks, there is an unexplored area that humans cannot enter. And within it is a graveyard.

Though no humans should tread upon this land, there are still a number of headstones and graves scattered across this desolate area.

But just how long has this graveyard existed? The numerous gravestones are weathered to the point of crumbling.

A thick, purplish miasma hangs in the graveyard, and not a single plant grows.

The trees beyond the graveyard still show signs of decomposing, but they haven’t been affected by the miasma nearly as long.

“My apostle has yet to return…”

The murmur sounds like bones rubbing together.

And at the same time, the miasma begins to thicken.

“I wouldn’t think retrieving a runaway horse would be that difficult…”

The listless muttering comes from a figure standing on a bleak hill overlooking the graveyard.

It sounds like an old man talking to himself.

The figure sits upon a stone throne, wrapped in a dark, shadowy cloak, and looks more like a heretical priest than like a king.

The costume itself is terrifying, but the figure wearing it is even more abnormal.

It’s large. Far larger than the average human.

Even sitting upon the throne, it would tower over houses.

The staff clenched in its right hand is more like a pillar, and the jewels around its neck are the size of large rocks.

But most horrible is the lack of any flesh on the giant figure.

No skin, no muscles, no organs. Just bones, looking like cracked pottery, peeking out of the robe.

And looking closely at the bones making up its giant form, you see they aren’t ordinary bones.

Each bone is made up of countless human bones, and in turn these giant bones form a giant skeleton.

A skeleton made of an amalgam of corpses.

That is the true form of the giant sitting on its secret throne.

If someone present were knowledgeable of the great war of a thousand years ago, the presence of the Lich, the Ruler of the Dead, one of the Demon Lord’s army’s Five Demon Generals, would cause them to cry out in anguish.

“I cannot believe there would be anyone among the humans able to defeat my apostle. What could have befallen him…?”

The Lich would never imagine that his favored apostle has been smashed to pieces by a dragon tail, and he grips his cup, filled with doubts.

“Oh well. Things never go as easily as you wish them to. It has been over a thousand years since we, the Demon Lord’s army, were sealed by the hero. And while we were able to finally break the seal, I am the only one who has awoken… It seems the hero’s seal still contains some of its monstrous power…”

Propping an elbow on the throne causes countless bones to rub together.

“Now, let me think. Just what was the name of that hero…? It would not do to forget the name of one’s most hated enemy. Perhaps it is the influence of the seal, but those memories are obscured.”

The Lich only awoke a few days ago.

An incredibly powerful magic spell went off nearby, weakening the seal for a moment.

The Lich, master of magic and immortality, took advantage of the opportunity to escape the seal, but the action of breaking out left his memories strangely hazy.

“Maybe that’s why my Nightmare fled from me. Has it forgotten the face of its creator…?”

Upon seeing the face of the Lich, the Nightmare screamed, “Ahhh! A gh-gh-ghooooost!!” and fled, agitated, westward.

“I immediately sent my apostle after the cursed thing, but perhaps I shall need to commit further soldiers, as they have yet to return. I put so much effort into creating my undead warhorse. And seeing as it is to be a gift to the Demon Lord upon his revival, I cannot allow it get away.”

The Lich raises his left hand in a beckoning manner.

As more of the miasma leaks from the hem of his robe, the clouds in the graveyard thicken.

The ground begins to bulge, and countless skeletons begin to climb from their graves.

“Ruler of the dead, you called for us?”

The skeletons kneel before the being on the stone throne.

“My faithful apostles. Head westward and return to me my wayward Nightmare. It may be unfounded, but something may have happened to your brother I sent earlier. Take care on your journey.”

“My lord, we are grateful for your concern! We, your invincible spirit warriors, will scatter the fragile humans and return victorious with your warhorse!”

The skeleton troops respond to the order of their lord with the loyalty of old veterans.

The Lich gives a satisfied nod to their statement.

“Ho-ho-ho, the humans will be no match for the likes of you. I shall await your swift return!”

“““Yes, sir!”””

Each gathers its equipment from its grave, and with a military air and the dreadful aura of the undead, the skeleton army sets off to the west.

This was the beginning of the invasion of the undead army.

One would need all the bravery one could muster.

Thwap. Smash. Crush. Thwomp. Smack.

The sound of a beating tail echoes through the fields at night.

“Wha?!”

“It can’t be?!”

“We’re invincible?!”

“How can we?!”

“Be defeated?!”

“So easily?!”

Thus goes the invasion.

The ranked skeletons are mercilessly flattened.

“Arwf… (Well. I figured they’d be coming, but I didn’t think there’d be this many of them…)”

I’m lying on the ground watching the skeletons being completely destroyed.

It’s like a game of Whac-A-Mole.

Just when they get restored and stand back up, they get pounded back into the ground. It’s a tragicomedy.

“Squee… (‘Well’ nothing. I’m the one doing all the work here…)”

Len complains while still smashing the skeletons with the clearly nonmouse tail that belies her mouse form.

“Woof, woof. (As they say, those who don’t work don’t eat. This is your chance to show thanks for your life of idleness.)”

“Mew. (It’s amazing that you can ignore your own faults so brazenly.)”

“Arwf. (Yeah, yeah, I know. Hey, Nahura, you do some work as well.)”

“Mrow. (I am working. I keep teleporting the fleeing skeletons back to the front of Lady Len.)”

With a wave of her paw, the reborn skeletons running from Len’s tail are instantly teleported back to where the merciless tail then smashes them back into smithereens.

What a dreadful combo attack. Boxed in with nowhere to go.

“Aaarrwf. (Just try not to damage the old man’s fields.)”

I yawn loudly, then prop my forepaws under my chin.

The first time I saw a skeleton, it surprised me enough that I peed myself, but now it’s as boring as an assembly-line job.

But no matter how certain our victory, we must never let our guard down.

“Whinny. (Oh d-dear. A-are these guys also looking for me?)”

Mare pops his trembling head out of the nearby stables.

“Arwf. (Huh? No idea. But if they keep heading in this direction, they’ll trample the fields and then get to the mansion.)”

And I won’t allow either to happen.

Anything that threatens my lazy pet life needs to be crushed.

Though I guess Len’s the one doing the crushing.

“Whinny. (Don’t be so pathetic, Mare. If you’re going to be one of the Faulks family horses, you need to act more dignified.)”

“Whinny. (Come now, dear, Mare’s just a girl. She can’t help it if she’s scared.)”

Elusive and Grace begin to nuzzle the frightened Mare.

“Wh-whinny. (I-I’m sorry for being a scaredy-cat…)”

“Whinny. (That’s all right, Mare. If anything ever happens, our family wolf will save us.)”

“Whinny? (Really? Routa will protect us?)”

“Arwf, arwf? (Oh, no, don’t put those expectations on me. I don’t know what you expect some pet to do… Also, Mare, you’re female?)”

“Wh-whinny. (S-seems so. Tee-hee.)”

Why are you blushing?

I know absolutely nothing about animal sexes, so I guess this is good to know.

But who asked for a tomboy horse?

“Squeak! (Hey, you nag! Quit flirting with my husband! I’ll get you!)”

As her tail keeps pounding away, Len jabs at Mare with her little fingers.

“Arwf… (She’s not flirting with me, and even if she were, I’m not a furry, so it wouldn’t be very effective.)”

“Squeak. (That’s right. My beloved is wholly devoted to me. I shouldn’t accuse you of having an affair. Forgive me, my love.)”

“Woof. (Hmm, weird. It feels like we’re talking but not communicating.)”

“Squeak! (You and I, darling, have transcended the need for mere conversation when it comes to communication!)”

Nothing can discourage this woman.

In some ways, her tenacity is inspiring.

“Woof. (Anyway, where do you think these skeletons came from? The forest is patrolled by Garo and the Fen Wolves, so they should notice immediately if anything happens.)”

It’s hard to imagine the crack team of Fen Wolves would run away from something. So why wouldn’t they take care of this?

Once we’re done here I might have to go investigate a little.

I decide that with a glance over at Len, who is wriggling about making weird noises while smashing skeletons.