"Woof? Did I do good?"
"Yeah! You did one thing right, so it's meat side dishes today!"
"Awoooo! Yay! Yay!"
"Stay right there! Until I come...!"
I quickly tied a rope to make a lasso. If I hook it around the neck and pull like this... ah, if I pull the rope, I'll get dragged and torn to pieces, so I should tell Aji to drag it instead.
Spinning the lasso in circles above my head, I slowly approached the immobilized horse. Perhaps frightened by the appearance of a suspicious human, the horse pressed closer to its master.
Huh, master?
'...A jackal, trying to steal a horse in broad daylight? ...Even so, this is near the camp. Do they look down on us...?'
A thought transmitted from someone hidden in the horse's shadow. Looking again, the horse hadn't failed to escape—it had arrived. With its master beside it.
'...And raising a beastman as a slave... an irredeemable villain.'
Tch. Even if I'm someone who can live outside the law, I don't prefer robbery. Robbery is a major crime.
The meaning of major crime is a crime that only the strong can commit. Since I'm weak, I can't commit major crimes and must remain a petty criminal. Of course, if the opponent is weaker than me, I could commit a major crime with relative strength, but...
'...Should I melt them.'
This won't work. I hurled the lasso I'd been spinning.
Not at the horse, but at Aji.
"Woof?"
Aji caught the flying lasso in his mouth. Even so, he stared at me with a puzzled face, wondering why this was flying toward him.
Coughing slightly, I loudly scolded Aji.
"You rascal, Aji! How could you harass someone else's horse!"
"Woof?"
"A horse is a human's friend, mount, and property! You must treat it preciously and not torment it! Why are you acting scary! Did I teach you that!"
You still don't get it? I'm scolding you. You're being reprimanded.
Aji, still seemingly unable to understand the situation, tilted his head, then thinking it was a game, suddenly shook his head vigorously.
"Woof!"
"Aaack! Don't pull! I'm falling!"
My body bounced up before being slammed to the ground. Shame and grievance surged before pain. Is this how a freshwater fish feels being pulled up on a fishing line?
Someone approached my slumped form. It was the horse's master.
Rust-red hair, like rust itself, tied in a ponytail. Loose suspenders were stained black with grease and rusted iron clung to them. Though she gave a calm impression, perhaps due to the band-aids scattered across her face, she seemed to have difficulty forming expressions.
A woman who appeared to be something between an alchemist and an ordnance corps looked down at me and asked.
"...You, the master?"
"If I were the master, how wonderful that would be. What master in the world feeds, clothes, and plays with them? If anything, he's my master."
"Woof! Woof woof! I'm not master! Grand Master!"
Aren't you not quite Grand Master yet? Above all, the person in question is so firmly alive, so how can you be Grand Master?
The woman glanced at Aji and asked again as if confirming.
"...You tried to steal the horse."
"No? I was trying to stop Aji in case he harmed the horse. Hurting someone else's horse would be a nuisance."
"...The lasso."
"I threw it to catch Aji. I had to stop him before he hurt the horse."
"...The meat side dishes comment?"
"I can't let Aji eat the horse, can I? So I had to divert his attention with meat side dishes first. It was a measure for safety."
How about that? My logical excuse.
Faced with my claim backed by perfect logic, the woman said nothing. Will emanated from her firmly closed lips.
'...At the point where they even make excuses, this jackal is in the top 10%.'
What kind of country is Raging Nation that making excuses puts you in the top 10%? It's beyond comprehension. The woman gave a small nod and turned back.
"...Fine. I'll let it pass."
"Let what pass? If we're assigning blame, the horse that escaped from its pasture is at fault. Do you not manage your mounts properly? What would you do if such a precious horse got stolen?"
The woman showed little reaction to my nonsense. She ignores useless words. A type that's hard to create an opening with. In that case, a slightly different approach.
Stroking the horse's mane, the woman muttered.
"...Aurea came to help me."
"Aurea?"
"...My horse, its name."
"Ah, really? So it was time to introduce each other's pets. I'll do one too. This is Aji. He has a bad habit of abruptly chasing after anything that runs."
'...Calling a beastman a pet... should I revise my assessment? Even the bottom 1% of jackals wouldn't have this level of personality breakdown.'
I really can't understand Raging Nation's standards. Calling a dog a dog drops me from top 10% to bottom 1%. What's with this drop?
Meanwhile, Aji patted at my feet and wagged his tail.
"Woof woof! This one, human! Good at lying!"
"Hey. No need to explain. Everyone here knows I'm human, right?"
"Introduction done!"
"Did you just introduce me because it was pet introduction time?!"
'...Pfft. An entertaining relationship. They seem close.'
The woman laughed only inwardly and turned her head away.
Leading the horse, she picked up a steel ingot from the ground. Through her torn sleeve, a dark reddish tattoo was visible running down from her elbow. Pure white light traveled down the tattoo and seeped directly into the ingot. Geometric vertical lines were etched into the steel ingot.
The woman concentrated her magic power. A flash of light. In the blink of an eye, the steel ingot had transformed into a sturdy plow.
The power to change matter with magic power. Alchemy. And quite high-level at that.
"A plow? That's something you use for farming."
"...Yeah."
"That's strange. I heard Raging Nation has no fields, so why a plow."
Hitching the plow to the horse, the woman glanced at me and asked briefly.
"...Drifter?"
"Ah, yes. I came recently."
"...Fields exist. The Golden Lord is omnipotent."
Upon mentioning the Golden Lord, the woman's words lengthened. Like a lawyer, she continued speaking quite passionately.
"...The Golden Lord frequently makes fields. Where the Lord passes, vast crops fill the land. The scale is so large that the Golden Palace has separate Juggernauts for harvesting crops..."
Oho. Well, Raging Nation's main income might be plunder, but that alone couldn't make them self-sufficient in food. I'd heard food was being supplied from somewhere... So it was the Golden Palace.
Everything in Raging Nation was alchemized by the Golden Lord. But the Golden Lord who even builds the Great Wall alone wouldn't fail to create the fields they need more...
Wait. As I continued my thoughts, I realized something and asked again.
"Wait a minute. You're not growing crops in the 'fields' the Golden Lord made... You're saying the Golden Lord 'makes the crops growing in the fields'?"
"...Yeah."
Huh, wait a moment.
This has huge implications. There are fields, and they supply crops little by little. This is entirely possible.
But... what if you could freely create 'crops' in the first place? If you could ripen grain with alchemy...?
"Well now. That's cheating. If you can produce food at will, there's no need for supply or anything."
"...Right."
"Though it's impressive, why tell me that?"
Meanwhile, the woman struggled to hitch the plow to the horse. Creating the plow with alchemy took an instant, but the simple task of hitching the plow took twice as long. Wiping sweat from her suspenders, the woman said quietly.
"...Know this, Military Nation person."
I flinched.
Seeing my momentary wariness at how she knew I was from the Military Nation, the woman briefly sent her gaze to my wrist.
A bio-terminal, one of Military Nation's inventions. Military Nation's ID that condenses and attaches human bio-information. To think she recognized this.
'...Just how great a being the Golden Lord is, and what Military Nation has picked a fight with. You, who worship a mere Maximilian as your Great Wall, probably can't even fathom a fragment of that.'
I hastily gathered my sleeves, feigning panic. Seeing my urgent movements, the woman...
'...It's too late to hide now. The water's already spilled. How foolish, Military Nation person.'
She would think that.
Good. I naturally revealed my identity. Now it's a bit more fair.
Because I also know your identity.
Raging Nation, with no land to settle, has no ruling class like lords. But that doesn't mean there are no classes.
Jackals are plunderers. But plunder alone cannot sustain life in this world. Someone must produce what is desperately needed.
In this place where the Golden Lord's byproducts are scattered everywhere, to kindle a small campfire to survive the day using them as fuel, one must learn alchemy. Therefore, most of Raging Nation's citizens have learned considerable alchemy. Just as farmers learn farming and hunters learn hunting, to live in Raging Nation, alchemy is not a choice but a necessity.
And among them, there are a few exceptional ones.
Chosen alchemists who can process the Golden Lord's special byproducts—indecomposable substances that cannot be broken down by force or magic power.
The woman before me is one of Raging Nation's strongest alchemists, who would look down even on Maximilian in the field of alchemy. Even if she's farming here right now.
"You have a sharp eye."
"...It's conspicuous. For a spy."
To have a new conversation, I need to reestablish the relationship. If an ordinary jackal asked where the Golden Palace was or what the Golden Lord was, well...
But now that I've revealed I'm from Military Nation, I can ask.
"No wonder the ground here felt soft and grass was growing. This land was once a field made by the Golden Lord."
"...."
"Is that why you set up camp here instead of in the city? Indeed, no matter how great a technique alchemy is, food is important."
"...."
"But I'm curious. If the Golden Lord can create grain... why is no grain growing in this field?"
I tapped the field with my foot and looked around.
No water source is visible nearby. All that waters her field is the water in a small watering can. Though a small barbed wire fence has been set up around the perimeter, it looks too low and flimsy to stop anything targeting the field.