#1102 Visitors to the Development Site – Dairy Animal POV

Greetings, it’s me again.

I was worried this might happen, but the situation’s even more chaotic than I imagined.

Elves and dwarves have shown up uninvited.

And not just that, they’re offering to help with the settlement work without me asking, which only confuses things more.

We all knew from the start that elves, who love nature, and dwarves, who excel at crafting, were a bad combination...

Put these two races together in the same place and a fight is pretty much guaranteed.

Now the development work is getting even rowdier.

Pops Edward has always quarreled with Aileron, but it turns out he also butts heads with L4C, a high elf.

It’s clearly a fundamental racial rivalry at play.

To make matters worse, Aileron drops by the development site regularly, so Pops and Aileron naturally end up feuding as well.

But as they clashed and argued, Pops suddenly got inspired and built a structure.

It was a bizarre little house perched awkwardly on a single tall tree trunk, as if to scream “I’ve merged with nature!”

Is that the kind of idea he reached after clashing with elves?

It reeked of desperate brainstorming.

Honestly, I assumed it was a shoddy mess, but the settlers who tried it out found it surprisingly comfy.

Turns out a pro’s skill shines through in any situation.

Because it’s perched high, it’s also great for lookouts. So the dwarves’ newest creation, the “nature-fused” house, got officially approved as is.

I haven’t even hired the dwarves for any official work yet...

This is all probably my fault for stepping out into the spotlight as the Saint.

None of this happened before.

Back when I kept a low profile, everyone kept a respectful distance...

But now that I’m front and center, there’s no reason for anyone else to hold back either.

So here I am, freaked out by how big an impact I have on the world around me, trying to think of a solution…and drawing a blank.

Meanwhile, the development work marches on mercilessly, and I can’t just walk away. I’ve handed over farm duties to my orcs and goblins and now I’m heading to the site even more diligently.

And then, yet another incident occurred.

***

“What now, another fight?”

It was so noisy, I just jumped to that conclusion.

Lately, Pops and the elves have been “fighting” so often, though it’s more like battling each other with their creative passions, that I just assumed this was another one of their bouts.

But today was different. When I took a peek, I saw complete strangers quarreling.

Why?

Why does this land attract fights from people I don’t even know?

“We’re the ones who can truly serve Lord Saint!”

“No, we satyrs are the ones who can aid Lord Saint!”

And of course, the reason behind this conflict is me. Again.

I sigh and jump in to break it up. I’ve got no choice.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Knock it off, okay? I don’t know what this is about, but let’s all chill out for a second!”

I tried to play the peacekeeper, but they brushed me off without a second thought.

Why?

“Who are you?! We’re fighting for the honor of our races, so butt out, outsider!”

“Don’t be so high and mighty about your racial pride! We minotaurs have already said we’re the ones who can help Lord Saint! Your puny race can step aside!”

Guuh…!

Wait, I’m that saint you’re talking about, you know?

Did they really just send me flying before I could say anything?

Why?

Am I allowed to feel cheated here?

What are these two groups even fighting about anyway?

And why is it happening right here in the development site?

Looking closer, the main showdown’s between two young women, both glaring daggers at each other.

They both look fit and lively, but clearly, they hate each other’s guts right now.

They’re attractive, sure, but with those bloodshot eyes, bared fangs, and snarling faces full of wrinkles at the nose, any hint of loveliness is gone. An instant mood-killer.

It’s not just these two girls—there are more young women behind each one, lined up like armies on opposing sides. It’s like a fantasy version of a grand historical battlefield.

Why are they trying to stage a monumental showdown here?

Again, I remind them that this is a settlement where me and the pioneers are sweating and working hard.

We’re already struggling with tourists, and now we get this?

No more unnecessary troubles, please!!!

“Every bit of trouble that’s not related to development work comes from you, Dear.”

Right!!!

Sorry, Platy, don’t stab me with harsh truths the moment you show up!

“This time’s no different. The root cause is you, Dear. Look at those rowdy girls. Do you notice anything besides their big boobs?”

Huh?! N-no, I wasn’t focusing on that at all!

Uh, what else?

They’re female, and, well, quite…ample. Aside from that…

...Ah.

They have animal features?

“Exactly. They’ve got animal ears and tails. One group is satyr-like goat girls, the other is a bunch of minotaur-like cow girls.”

Oh? I feel like of heard of them somewhere...

I remember the satyrs—we have a few on our farm.

“We Satyrs were on the brink of extinction. It was Lord Saint who saved us! When an evil dragon attacked and nearly burned our village to ashes, a dragon serving Lord Saint appeared. That dragon beat the villainous dragon and saved our lives!”

Oh, right. I remember hearing something like that.

Just from hearsay, though.

We wanted milk at the farm, and Veil went to negotiate. That’s probably when it happened.

The satyr girl with goat ears, horns, and tail proudly declares their debt.

“We satyrs owe our continued survival to Lord Saint! If he has appeared in this world, it’s only right that we rush to his side and repay our debt!”

“That goes for us minotaurs too! We also owe Lord Saint a huge debt!!!”

The other group, the minotaur girls, speaks up.

They’re brawny cow-women with horns and tails, and a hefty build that reflects their bovine heritage.

“We minotaurs once lost all our livestock thanks to a tyrannical royal family, and couldn’t raise cattle for a long time. But Lord Saint performed a miracle and restored our ancient A5-grade premium cattle bloodline!”

The minotaur girl speaks proudly.

Oh yeah, that rings a bell.

It wasn’t that long ago.

Back then, we were searching for delicious beef for a barbecue. The legendary premium minotaur cattle lineage had supposedly died out.

So we contacted the underworld gods, resurrected some ancestor cows, and restored the lost bloodline. Right, that’s how it went.

“Thanks to that, our ranching industry is back on its feet, and now everyone wants our premium beef! This booming economy is all thanks to Lord Saint! When we heard he had appeared, of course we had to come running!!!”

...So that’s the story.

As soon as I reveal myself widely, all sorts of people show up.

At least they come out of gratitude, not vengeance. That’s something.

“Therefore, this is the place for us minotaurs to show our gratitude! There’s no room here for you scurrying little goat-girls! Back down!”

“Oh, shut it, you big, slow cow-brutes! Don’t underestimate goat therians who can leap up sheer cliffs! Back off, yourselves!”

In other words…

They’re fighting over who gets to repay their debt to the Saint first?

Why fight over that?

Why not all repay together?

“Isn’t it silly to clash over something like this? Why not be friendly and just share your gratitude…?”

“QUIET! STAY OUT OF THIS!!!”

Gah?!

Double hurricane from the goat and cow sends me spiraling through the air, twirling like a drill bit.

“No matter what anyone says, we minotaurs will repay our debt to the Lord Saint! Anyone who stands in our way will taste the fury of my horns!”

“That goes for us satyrs too! If you block our thank-you mission, we’ll send you flying!”

“Now, where is Lord Saint? It’s time for our grand audience!”

“Wait, cow! We satyrs will greet Lord Saint first! Lord Saint, we humbly request your presence!”

The Saint you’re looking for…well, you just sent him flying.

As I rocket skyward, then plummet down and slam deep into the earth, I can’t help but think these thoughts.