"Are we going to use the proving grounds?" Tom asked the rest of the group as they continued practicing their hand-to-hand combat. He glanced around at the others while maintaining his stance, clearly hoping that someone had a better answer than he did. The proving grounds had become one of the most talked-about developments in the world, and naturally, the idea of testing themselves there had crossed their minds. Unfortunately, the answer was not nearly as exciting as he had hoped.
"Probably not at the moment," Arin replied, sounding disappointed himself. "The nearest one isn't really feasible for us right now, and Grandpa doesn't want us giving away our capabilities before we have a reason to do so." He paused briefly before continuing, already looking annoyed by another piece of information they had learned about the proving grounds. "Besides, they've already discovered some limitations in the design, and apparently, it is only really good for pure fighting rather than the way we actually fight."
Arin found that particular limitation especially frustrating because their greatest advantage came from everything that happened before the fighting started. They relied on stealth, observation, and identifying the strengths and weaknesses of their opponents before committing to an attack. Simply throwing them into an arena and expecting them to fight openly removed a large portion of what made their style so effective. Their fast shooting was useful, but without the ability to choose the battlefield and approach their enemies unseen, it was nowhere near as overwhelming.
"The archery trials are apparently designed around the mainstream understanding of archery," Arin continued with a sigh. "That means slow but accurate shooting, which makes sense for the kind of archers most armies actually use." The average archer could be stationed on a wall or inside a fort and expected to provide consistent ranged support without needing the specialized combat abilities of someone like them. "People like us are supposed to be trained like elites, though, so the proving grounds aren't really designed around what we do."
"That is too bad," Tom said with a disappointed voice. He stepped to the left just as a wooden knife came toward him, allowing the weapon to pass harmlessly beside his body. In the same motion, he stepped inside his opponent's guard and slammed his palm against the chin of his sparring partner. The unfortunate partner was Bertho, who staggered backward while glaring at Tom.
"That was a good one, Tom," Bertho admitted, rubbing his chin as he recovered. "But I still don't understand why we can't revisit the combat dog idea." His expression became increasingly irritated as he brought up the subject again, clearly having been thinking about it for some time. "Dogs are smarter and more capable now, especially with mana, so why should we have to keep doing all this close-combat training ourselves?"
"What are you talking about?" Bill asked with genuine confusion. Unfortunately, he had chosen the worst possible moment to stop paying attention. Arin immediately took advantage of his distraction and tackled him to the ground, leaving Bill staring up at the sky with an expression of complete disbelief.
"Oh, have you guys not been reading the family history?" Arin asked while looking down at him. He then noticed that Tom was also staring at him with the same confused expression. "It is completely open to us now, so I suppose you really could have missed it." Arin shook his head slightly before helping Bill back onto his feet. "There was actually an entire period when the family experimented with something very similar to what Bertho is suggesting."
"During the Eighty-Year War, the family experimented with breeding a type of dog that could follow family members around and protect them in close combat," Bertho explained with growing fascination. "The problem was becoming serious enough that we were losing people over the years, particularly when someone managed to get close enough to force a fight." The family therefore wanted something that could stay beside their people without requiring another human to constantly protect them. "The idea was to create an animal that could compensate for that weakness."
"It happened while the family was working for the Great House that was behind the entire war," Arin added. He shook his head when he remembered the circumstances surrounding that war. "Of course, the Great House eventually decided that they wanted to rule themselves, which was a rather stupid decision considering what happened afterward."
"Oh, that is actually really interesting," Bill said, suddenly far more interested in the conversation. He sat on the ground, still nursing the sore spot where Arin had tackled him, but his attention had completely shifted away from the pain. "So why didn't it work? I would love to have a dog like that around." His expression made it clear that he had already decided that owning one would be an excellent idea.
"Because they became a liability," Arin answered simply. He sat down beside Bill and rested his arms against his knees while explaining the problem. "The dogs couldn't hide as well as we could, and everyone became emotionally attached to them." That created a problem whenever the family had to retreat from an area and leave something behind. "No one wanted to abandon their dog, even when leaving it behind was the logical thing to do."
"The dogs themselves weren't even necessarily the biggest problem," Arin continued. "A single family member could slip through enemy soldiers without attracting much attention, because we could blend into the environment and move without making ourselves noticeable." He shook his head as he remembered the old records. "But bringing a dog along made that much harder because the animal couldn't disappear into the surroundings nearly as well as a trained ranger could."
"Maybe we could have created a functioning breed by now if we had continued the experiments," Arin admitted. "That is exactly the kind of dog we would be looking for today, especially considering how much mana has changed the possibilities." He sighed before explaining why the family had abandoned the project in the first place. "Unfortunately, they decided that continuing the experiments wasn't worth the investment because gunpowder weapons were becoming increasingly common."
"As those weapons became more popular, close combat became something the family wanted to avoid rather than prepare for," Arin said. "Instead of spending resources developing animals for a situation they were actively trying to prevent, they improved their own abilities to hide, escape, and avoid being trapped." That strategy had served them well for generations. "If you can make sure the enemy never gets close enough to fight you, then there is considerably less reason to spend resources preparing for close combat."
"Yes, but things are different now," Bertho argued with a huff. He crossed his arms while looking between Arin and the others. "Mana makes things possible that weren't possible back then, so there is no reason to assume the old problems would still exist." His enthusiasm clearly hadn't been diminished by Arin's explanation of the family's failed experiment. "We might actually be able to create the dogs we need this time."
"That may be true, but good luck convincing the family," Arin replied. He gave Bertho a skeptical look because he already understood how difficult that conversation would be. "How are you planning to convince everyone to invest in something like this?" He spread his hands slightly. "It isn't as though we have any real experience breeding specialized combat animals, and starting from scratch would require a ridiculous amount of time and money."
"Oh, that part is simple," Bertho said immediately. "We ask the Arcidiacono family." He said the name as though he had just solved the entire problem. "They're experts when it comes to animals, so they can handle the breeding and development while we explain what kind of animal we actually need." As far as Bertho was concerned, the obvious solution was to find people who already possessed the necessary knowledge rather than attempting to reinvent it themselves.
"That could work," Arin admitted reluctantly. He could already see why Bertho considered the idea so attractive, particularly because suitable dogs could take over some of the duties currently performed by their recruits. "But where are you going to get the money?" The question immediately brought the conversation back to reality. "A deal like the one you're proposing isn't going to be cheap, especially if the Arcidiacono family expects exclusive rights to the resulting breed after investing years of research and development."
Arin rubbed his forehead as the financial implications began piling up in his mind. Their family had money coming in, but very little of it was actually available for projects that weren't directly related to their current expansion. Almost every silver coin they earned was being poured straight back into the town because the city was developing into an incredibly profitable investment. They had also secured a huge amount of land along the river, purchasing practically every useful piece of land within fifty kilometers in both directions, creating a hundred-kilometer stretch that they effectively controlled.
"That is exactly what I'm struggling with," Bertho admitted. He looked frustrated, but his enthusiasm hadn't disappeared. "I just want dogs." There was something almost childish about the way he said it, but no one in the room could honestly say that they disagreed with the desire. "Having something like that would make our lives considerably easier."
Nobody immediately objected to the idea because they all understood the practical advantages. Their recruits currently had to patrol the forest constantly, watching for people who had no business being there and responding whenever someone crossed into their territory. Maintaining that level of security consumed an enormous amount of manpower, with roughly a thousand recruits effectively being tied up in patrol duties every day. If specially bred animals could handle even part of that responsibility, the family could redirect those people toward more productive work.
"There is another advantage," Bertho added, his expression becoming slightly more serious. "Our profession is inherently lonely." He looked around at the others before continuing. "We're lucky because our forest isn't large enough for us to spend weeks completely isolated from everyone else, but that doesn't mean the work isn't solitary." Rangers were expected to spend long periods moving through forests and watching their surroundings without attracting attention. Having a loyal animal companion could make that lifestyle considerably easier.
Arin understood that argument better than he wanted to admit. Their family had always been somewhat unusual because nearly everyone shared the same profession, and that created a strange sense of unity despite the solitary nature of their work. Still, the situation could change as their territory expanded and their responsibilities increased. A properly trained animal might therefore become more than a combat tool; it could become a companion capable of staying beside a ranger when another person could not.
"Fine," Arin said eventually, though he still looked troubled by the financial problem. "I'm not saying no." He raised a hand before Bertho could celebrate too early. "But if we're going to bring this idea to the family, we need a proper proposal rather than simply telling everyone that we want dogs." The project would need clear goals, estimated costs, possible benefits, and an explanation of why the family should invest in it now rather than leaving the idea buried in the history books.
Bertho's face immediately brightened at the answer. "That sounds like a yes to me." He looked far too pleased with himself for someone who had yet to secure a single coin for the project. Tom laughed quietly while Bill shook his head, already imagining the arguments that would erupt when the proposal reached the elders. Arin could only sigh, because somehow he already suspected that the request for dogs was going to become far more complicated than Bertho imagined.