"Pop, pop, poo!"
"Pop!"
"Pop!"
"Poo!"
"""Pop, pop, poo!!!"""
"Ahahaha! Oh, you guys are too cute!"
"...Um, Lady Reis?"
Hmm? What is it, Matilde? Why the long face? This is a victory banquet! The townspeople have come out to celebrate, my kids are loving the food, and the atmosphere is great! The alcohol is delicious and I'm having a blast! You've gotta enjoy it, right?
"W-Well, yes, but... that song. The one your followers are singing so happily. Does it have some... deeper meaning?"
"Hmm? No, not really. They're ostriches."
They just found a rhythm they like and started singing it. It's the "Pop-Pop-Poo Song." No melody, no lyrics, just repeating "Pop-pop, poo!" over and over. Look at that group mixing in with the townspeople to dance—the ones flapping their wings so hard you can't tell if they're dancing or having a seizure. That girl, third from the right? She's the one who started it.
Since we can't hold onto memories, short, catchy sounds spread through the flock like wildfire. The day she started it, they sang it until they fell asleep. They sang it while running, while hunting, even in their sleep. I was shocked at first—I thought, "Wait, if I teach them things through songs, maybe they'll actually remember!"
(Narrator: They forgot everything the next day.)
In today's battle, they went berserk because I got hit. They were turning into monsters that wouldn't stop until everything in sight was minced meat. I used that song to snap them out of it. I had to smack them all to get their attention while singing at the top of my lungs. If one stays angry, the rage just reignites in the others. Songs are the only way to stop them all at once.
"So, yeah. I used it to remind them who they were today, and now they're just looping it."
"I-I see... I thought it was some sort of post-war ritual. You know, since they were doing it near the... cleanup site. While covered in blood."
Ah, so that's why the soldiers were looking at my kids with such horrified expressions when they started singing. Like, "What dark ritual is beginning now?!" My bad, my bad. Honestly, Matilde, do you really think ostriches have the brainpower for rituals? They forget what happened three seconds ago. Look, look at that one running toward us.
"Oh, he has a... plate in his beak? He's running... and he stopped."
"See? He's eating the food on the plate now. 'Yum, yum!' Then he looks at me, realizes he has food for me, starts running full speed... and forgets again. Stops. Eats. Realizes. Runs. It's an infinite loop. Matilde, do you get what's happening?"
"Wait, is he...!"
Yep. He found delicious food, decided to bring it to me, ran halfway, forgot why he was running, looked down, saw delicious food in his mouth, ate it, realized it was great and he should bring some to Mama, and started over.
"So the ones who have been running toward us and then turning back were...?"
"Exactly. Total idiots, right? But that's why they're cute. Living with them is a full-time job, though."
Only a tiny fraction actually manage to deliver the food. Most finish the plate halfway, drop it, and move on to the next shiny thing. And that is why there is a constant "Ostrich Express" line coming from the kitchens.
"I don't even know what to say... it's impressive, in a way."
"Right?"
I downed my drink while chatting with Matilde. Soon, I saw Alan the merchant approaching, carrying a massive platter with both hands. He always walks like he's hiding his presence—it's a habit of his, I guess. I had to make sure he didn't sneak up on the kids; they might kick him out of pure surprise.
"Ah, there you are!"
"Oh, Alan! Are you feeling better?"
"Hahaha, to my shame, not quite. But I couldn't miss a business opportunity like this, so I dragged myself out."
"Wait, were you sick, Alan?"
I took the food he brought. Apparently, despite being a merchant, he had climbed the walls to fight for his town. Wow! I thought he was just a shady guy, but he's actually got guts. Impressive! Unfortunately, he witnessed our "unrestricted grazing" on the enemy army, and since he had zero mental resistance to that much gore, he fainted and had to be carried to the back.
"You've got spirit! And sorry about that. My kids don't have an 'off' switch when they're mad."
"...N-No. Please, don't mind it. It's thanks to you, Lady Reis, that I'm still alive to do business at all."
"Glad to hear it! In that case, can I get a refill on the booze?"
I lifted the keg I had been holding with my foot. I started with those cute little mugs, but it was too slow, so I switched to drinking straight from the barrel. Matilde was looking at me like I was a barbarian, but hey, it's a party!
"Can I get three more kegs?"
"...Are you serious?" "Are you?"
"Eh? Yeah. I can drink them..."
And I don't mean the small ones. I mean the "large enough for a human to hide inside" ones. I'm not being greedy! If you guys want some, just say so! My kids don't drink, so I figured I'd take their share, but I'm happy to split!
"M-Lady Matilde. I shall go check the warehouse immediately..."
"You have my thanks, Master Alan..."
"It's my job. If you'll excuse me, ladies."
He bowed and hurried back toward the town. Apparently, he has a private warehouse and was going to bring the good stuff. He was also going to bring supplies to the "Ostrich Front"—the poor chefs who were currently being overwhelmed by the flock's appetite. Good luck, Alan!
"Mind if I sit?"
"Oh, Amelia! You drinking?"
"Only the weak stuff. Lord Matilde, excuse me."
Amelia the Elf sat down and started on the food Alan brought. Dere followed her, resting her chin on Amelia's head and humming the "Pop-Pop-Poo" song. They've become fast friends, haven't they? Dere, you aren't being a nuisance, are you?
"I'm fine!"
"Really?"
"We had some... moments, but she's quite endearing," Amelia said with a small smile.
"De~re~? I told you not to cause trouble!" I laughed, grabbing Dere's neck and playfully ruffling her feathers. Dere, having already forgotten whatever trouble she caused, just leaned into the "playtime" and begged for more.
"So, what's up, Amelia? You need me or Matilde?"
"I'd like to ask for a bit of your time later, Reis."
"My time?"
"Yes. It would be a waste to do nothing with that mana of yours."
She'd intended to ask sooner, but the invasion happened. As a mage, she'd been hired by the military to help with the "cleanup"—burning and purifying the remains so they wouldn't turn into undead. Grim work. While I was washing the kids, she was working as a one-woman incinerator.
"A waste?"
"Most mages can 'see' it... your mana capacity is enormous. Even if you don't have a specific affinity, with that much raw power, you should be able to brute-force basic spells."
"...Wait. I can use magic?"
"Most likely," she said. I had no idea. Maybe it's a reincarnation bonus I forgot about? After ten years of living like a prehistoric bird, am I finally getting the standard isekai fantasy power-up?
"So, I'd like a little of your time."
"Absolutely! Please teach me! Oh, is tomorrow morning okay? I'll be completely free for a few hours then."
"You won't have to look after the others?"
"Oh... right, I haven't mentioned that."
My kids are fine during normal hunts. But when they go berserk and push past their limits like today? The next morning, they are all crippled by muscle pain. It goes away in a few hours, but there's nothing I can do for them. I'll be free because they'll be too busy being miserable to move.
"...Is that... okay? I mean, all of them?"
"We've done this plenty of times back home. Matilde, you should come watch too. It's a rare sight. Not a fun one, but rare."
"I would like to. I'm curious about Amelia's teaching methods as well," Matilde added.
Apparently, Elves rarely leave their own country, which is far to the North. Seeing an Elf in the Southern continent, especially in a backwater like Plaque, is extremely rare.
"I hear Elves have unique magic. I've lived by the spear, so I'm ignorant of such things. I'd love to broaden my horizons. Besides, I've sent the messengers to the capital, but until I get a reply, all I can do is tighten local security. If Amelia-dono permits, I'd like to observe."
"Fine by me," Amelia said. "But I'll be teaching the Imperial Style, not the Elven style. We can do the explanations tomorrow. No use studying during a festival."
"True! A bit of a shame, but okay! Now, you two! Drinking contest!"
"Are you trying to kill me?" "I'll pass, thank you."
"Tch. Boring."
The next morning was clear and crisp.
I stood up and stretched. Matilde's soldiers had set up tents for us, but ostriches don't understand how tents work. If it rains, they might huddle near them, but generally, they prefer sleeping under the stars. They don't like having their vision blocked.
(I had mine modified so I could see out of it, but in the end, I was the only one who used it.)
I looked around at the "battlefield" of the banquet. Most of the townspeople and soldiers had gone home, but the poor chefs were still scattered on the ground, having cooked until they collapsed. They were still breathing. Good job, everyone.
Nearby, Alan was also face-down. The "Ostrich Front" had been brutal; as soon as he brought food, it was snatched. Eventually, the chefs realized he could cook a bit and practically kidnapped him to serve as an extra pair of hands. He'd been working ever since he brought me that beer.
(Rest in peace, buddy.)
"Now, for the main event."
I walked over to one of my flock lying on the ground.
"You okay?"
"I-It hurts... so heavy..."
"Yeah, looks bad. There, there, pain, pain, go away~."
Muscle pain. It's better not to touch them too much, so I just gave them some words of comfort. Ostrich recovery is fast; they'll be fine in a few hours. I can't handle 300 birds having cramps at once. By the time I fetched enough water from the river to cool them all down, they'd be healed anyway.
"Food? Foo— GYAPI!"
"See? Stay still."
The moment he heard "food," he tried to jump up and immediately collapsed in agony. He'll forget why it hurts in a minute, but I told him to stay put and checked the others. Everyone was the same. "It hurts!" "Why?!" "I don't know!" To wake up and have your whole body screaming in pain with no memory of why... it must be terrifying. Sorry, Mama's got a class to attend!
"...Wait. Did I just naturally call myself 'Mama'? ...Whatever."
I felt bad for them, but this was a rare window where I could leave them alone. Even during the banquet, I was always keeping an eye on them. Now, it was time for magic class!
"Hey, Ameli~a! Over here!"
Go for it! The Nagan Strategist! (Part 1)
I'm the Strategist of the Nagan Kingdom! I'm working so hard for my country! I haven't slept since yesterday! But thanks to that, I got the King's permission to send a "Let's be friends!" letter to the Heed Kingdom! I was just about to head over there to finalize the details when... the nobles found out! It's a disaster!
"An alliance with Heed?! They were our first target for the war against the Empire!"
"Exactly! It's disgusting! We attacked them first—how do we know they won't stab us in the back?"
"And how do you intend to take responsibility for the loss of the Magic Corps you deployed without permission?!"
"Listen to me! We don't have time for this! Read the documents I prepared—the details are all there! And I already have His Majesty's approval!"
In Nagan (and most places), the King isn't an absolute dictator. He has to balance the whims of the nobles to maintain national interest. And the problem is, while the King is reasonable, the nobles are all "Humans are the best! Everyone else is trash!" ...God, I hate them.
They sound logical on the surface, but their "ideology" is always leaking through.
"I have reported multiple times that a Special Strategic Asset has appeared in Heed! Have you forgotten the war with the Republic of Tram to our North?! We have no counter! No Magic Corps! If we fail to secure this alliance, we are finished!"
I'm trying to explain, but they hate Heed's "Let's all get along" policy. They don't trust a country where non-humans hold positions of power. It's outdated and stupid! I'm the only one who can negotiate this! If I don't leave for Heed right now, it'll be too late!
The nobles have their own private armies. If I don't keep them happy, they might defect during a war. But a country with a Strategic Asset doesn't have to worry about that—they just drop their "Monster" on the problem and win!
Nagan doesn't have one! So I have to suck up to these idiots! Ughhhhh!!! Let me leave already!!! If this country burns, it's on you!!!
(Two hours later, he finally managed to depart.)