#1103 There Can Only Be One

The fighting drags on.

This silly tug-of-war over who gets to repay a debt—goats vs. cows—just keeps going.

First off, we need to calm everyone down and make it crystal clear who the Saint is around here.

“WE’RE SO SORRYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

Down below, as I receive my healing, I see two therians scraping their foreheads against the ground, bowing like their lives depend on it.

They’re both the ringleaders who dragged this absurd squabble to the development site.

One side is a goat therian called the satyrs.

The other is a minotaur, a cow therian.

Both claim they owe me a tremendous debt of gratitude, and they’ve supposedly come all this way to repay it.

Repaying kindness with kindness is all well and good.

But these two ended up launching me sky-high with their “Cross Hurricane Mixer” or whatever it was—and I’m the one they’re supposed to be grateful to!

When they realized who I was, they turned pale and started apologizing like there’s no tomorrow.

Well, that’s understandable.

They literally returned kindness with a smack to the face.

“Lord Saint, it is such an honor to finally gaze upon your noble visage on such an auspicious day…!”

“We’ve longed to meet the revered Saint, counting the hours and days in endless anticipation…!”

They’re so flustered their greetings aren’t even making sense anymore.

“Aren’t apologies supposed to come before the fancy introductions?” says Platy, tending to my wounds as she scolds them.

I got hit by two sets of horns, front and back, lifting me clean off my feet. Sent spiraling upward, I soared to a certain height before gravity kicked in, after which I dropped straight down at a ridiculous speed enough to bury my head in the ground and mess me up pretty badly!

“Just a spritz of healing potion… and all better!”

Wait, seriously? Already?!

I was sure I’d taken a major hit!

But I guess Platy’s potions are that effective.

I almost forgot that she’s a genius potion-maker!!!

“Even if my husband’s injuries are healed, your sins aren’t wiped away. Show us you’re really sorry.”

“GUH…!”

The pair of therians can’t argue, just grunting miserably.

“Why are you even fighting in the first place? If you both came here to repay a favor, can’t you just cooperate and be nice about it?”

“W-WELL...!”

The pair shrinks under Platy’s perfectly logical point, too ashamed to respond.

But that doesn’t solve anything, so eventually...

“…They’re the problem!”

Which side’s “they,” exactly?

“They’re the ones interfering with our attempt to repay our debt! Eliminating them is the only choice we had!”

“That’s my line! You cows have been blocking our attempts to show gratitude! What beef do you have with us? Talk about bullying!”

Whoa, whoa, calm down.

Now it’s just a shouting match of nonsensical accusations.

They’re blocking each other’s attempts to repay me? What’s that even mean?

Couldn’t they each just show their gratitude in their own way? It’s not like there’s only so much ‘thank you’ to go around.

Not that I’d ever refuse someone’s gratitude, of course.

If it’s an act of kindness, I ought to accept it with a smile.

While I stand there confused, one of the satyrs speaks up.

“It’s not that simple! These cows are trying to copy our very best method of repaying our debt!”

“Oh, who’s copying who now?! We picked this method first! Don’t you dare steal our idea!”

So they’re at each other’s throats over who gets to use a particular method of gratitude.

If both use the same approach, it’d be less special, I guess.

I can somewhat understand wanting to stand out.

But what method of repayment has both satyrs and minotaurs all worked up?

“We are—”

“Our people are—”

“—Here to offer you, Lord Saint, some of the most delicious milk you’ve ever tasted!!!”

…

Huh?

Wait, what now?!

“Oh, I see. Come to think of it, both of these races are famous for producing top-quality milk.”

You knew that, Platy?!

“Of course I knew. Who do you think supplies all the milk at our farm, Dear?”

Panu and the rest of the satyrs, right?

Goat therians came to our farm after Veil negotiated with them.

That was Panu’s group.

They handle milking and making dairy products on the farm.

Thanks to them, I can enjoy a cool, refreshing glass of milk after a hot bath.

I appreciate their hard work every day.

“As for the minotaurs, they’re known for their milk, too. They’re not just about beef, you know.”

Minotaurs produce milk, too?!

Well, when you think about it, why not?

In my world, cow’s milk is the most common of all.

If goats can do it, no surprise cows can too.

“…?! So that’s why both the satyrs and minotaurs who came here are all young females?”

Platy’s eyes light up with sudden realization.

That explains a lot.

“Yes! We traveled here with a handpicked squad of top-tier satyr maidens who all placed in the top ten at the Satyr Milk Competition! We want the Saint to savor our exquisite milk!”

“Well, we minotaurs are here for the same reason! We want Lord Saint to know we’re not just about good beef. We’ve brought thirteen volunteers ready to offer their milk in your honor!”

They crowd closer, pressing their case.

...Ugh, this is tricky.

“How dare you! Lord Saint already appreciates our milk! We were here first, so naturally he’d want more of ours. You cows butting in is outrageous!”

“Exactly because he’s used to your milk, he might be craving a new flavor! Our minotaur milk is mild and pleasing to everyone’s palate!”

“Don’t pretend your lack of distinctiveness is a selling point! Satyr milk has way higher nutritional value and is far superior as a food source! Don’t lump us in with you bulk-producers!”

“You and your weird flavored milkkkkkkkkkkk!!!”

They’re at it again!

What should I do?!

I’m not even that desperate for milk, to be honest!

“This...calls for a wise verdict.”

Platy murmurs from my side.

You have an idea, Platy?!

“They’re fighting for your recognition, right, Dear? In that case, we need to decide who truly deserves the honor!”

Huh?!

Wait, what are you planning, Platy?!

She’s always so quick to cut through the ambiguity.

Sometimes, leaving things fuzzy is better, you know?!

“If you want to repay my husband, prove you’re worthy! If you want the right to present him with your milk, you’ll have to fight for it! Fight, fight, fight until only one champion remains, and that champion’s milk shall earn his praise!”

Isn’t that a bit violent for what’s supposed to be a kind gesture of gratitude?!

“If it’s a milk tribute you aim to provide, then we shall let him decide which milk tastes best! I declare a new contest: the Inter-Species Milk Taste Battle!!!”

And so, yet another completely unrelated conflict is about to begin in this development site.