Chapter 59
Zakan's thick eyebrows twitched.
"You're saying my village is blind and deaf?"
"That's right."
There was more genuine confusion than offense in Zakan's gaze, and Tark calmly began to explain.
"No matter how high you build your walls or how good your steel weapons are, if you have no eyes to spot approaching enemies and no ears to carry news from afar, it's no different from locking yourselves inside a cage."
Tark looked seriously at me, Zakan, and the young warriors standing around us one after another.
"And that's not the only problem. Chief Zakan, there's no questioning your strength, but there are also many problems with the condition of the younger warriors."
"What is wrong with us?!"
"Are you jealous because I'm handsome?!"
The kids and Malko immediately protested, but Tark didn't even flinch.
"Leaving aside the children who aren't even ten years old yet, those old enough to hold axes and spears need to start learning how to fight as warriors. Just look at the children of the Rock Tribe."
Zakan silently looked back at the boys standing behind him.
"They have plenty of spirit and courage, but that's all. They don't know how to form ranks or fight together. They simply charge around like wild horses that have never been broken in."
Ouch.
That was some brutal truth.
Tark was right.
The kids were brave.
They were just... brave.
Whenever a fight broke out, all they knew how to do was scream and rush straight at the enemy.
If they faced not one giant monster like yesterday, but an entire pack of monsters, or worse, a band of raiders, that reckless courage would become poison that sent them to their deaths first.
"We need watchtowers immediately, and we need scouting parties moving around the village. And if the warriors don't learn how to fight together, they'll never survive the next Red Moon."
"...You're right."
Zakan nodded at Tark's sharp assessment.
"I know we need to train the warriors for the tribe's future. But..."
His expression soon turned bitter as he looked down at his own hands.
"What good is a training ground if there's no one who knows how to teach? I learned by fighting beasts with the sword my father left me. I don't know how to teach someone else."
At Zakan's words, one of the warriors standing behind Tark quietly stepped forward.
"You don't need to worry about that, Chief."
"What do you mean?"
"Tark can handle it. To be honest, when we first became exiles and started wandering around, we were idiots who only knew how to swing axes around. The only reason we learned formations and teamwork is because Tark beat it into us."
At that, Tark awkwardly cleared his throat, the scarred skin of his face turning slightly red.
"Ahem. Th-that's unnecessary information."
"It's true. If Tark hadn't taught us, we would've ended up inside some monster's belly a long time ago."
Oh?
My eyes lit up as I looked at Tark.
Wasn't this an unexpected jackpot?
I'd thought I'd picked up a sturdy tank who could guard the village gate.
Turns out he was a military instructor too.
"That's a good idea, Zakan. We need someone who can teach the children. You can't protect them forever. The kids need to learn how to protect themselves."
At my words, Zakan quietly looked over the injured children wrapped in bandages.
Their wounds weren't too serious.
But if Zakan hadn't been there yesterday, there was no way they would've escaped unharmed.
He fell into thought for a moment before finally speaking to Tark.
"Tark. Can you teach our children how to live as warriors?"
Tark looked tenderly at Mokona's swollen belly beside him for a moment before answering with determination in his eyes.
"The children are the future of the Rock Tribe. And they are the brothers and sisters who will grow alongside my child when it is born. If it means making our Rock Tribe stronger, I'll teach them everything I know, even if I have to squeeze every last bit of it out of myself."
With that firm answer, a new energy began to spread through the Rock Tribe.
The village quickly began to stabilize after the chaos caused by the collapsed wall and the exiles' attack.
Under Jack and Olaf's supervision, the broken section of the wall was rebuilt even thicker and sturdier than before.
And following Tark's suggestion, the frames of tall watchtowers were raised in all four directions around the village.
Zakan's cracked greatsword was also sent away for repairs.
After dealing with the urgent matters, I stood in front of the corpse of the Blood-Armor Behemoth that had been left lying in the village's backyard.
"Topu. Can you dismantle this?"
Topu, who had been staring up at the Behemoth's enormous body beside me, went pale and frantically waved his hands.
"O-oh, no, Shaman! I know how to skin a monster more or less, but something this huge and valuable... I wouldn't dare touch it."
"Really?"
"If I make one mistake and damage that precious hide or one of those bones, do you know how much money we'd lose?! Absolutely not!"
Fair enough.
Topu had a point.
With the Varg last time, all we really had to do was roughly strip off the hide.
The Behemoth was a different matter.
If we carelessly put a knife to it, we'd only lower the value of the materials.
"Bah! Why are you fussing so much? I'll just chop into it with my axe, peel off the hide, use the tough skin for armor, and carve the bones into support beams!"
Olaf stepped forward irritably, raising his axe.
Jack immediately went pale and grabbed him by the arm.
"Good grief, old man! What are you doing?! Don't you know that if you leave axe marks on bones you're planning to use as construction material, you'll ruin their durability?"
"Then don't use the bones! Just use steel frames!"
The two craftsmen were practically grabbing each other by the collar in front of the Behemoth's corpse when a sharp voice rang out.
"I've come to earn my keep."
Mokona approached with an apron tied firmly around her waist and a butcher's knife in hand.
"I may be too heavily pregnant to fight, but separating monster flesh from bone has been my life's work."
"Huh? B-but you're carrying a child. Are you sure you'll be all right?"
Topu asked in surprise.
Despite her heavy body, Mokona climbed onto the Behemoth's corpse with unbelievable agility.
Slice! Shhk!
The next instant, her knife began to dance.
She wasn't crudely hacking apart flesh.
She perfectly understood the grain of the muscles and the joints between the bones, separating hide and bone with the smallest possible movements.
The hide came off completely intact without so much as a scratch.
Thick bones that could be used as pillars were neatly sorted into piles.
"Good heavens... It's like her knife is dancing. I've never seen skill like this, even in the big merchant companies in the cities."
"My word. I've never seen dismantling this perfect either. That's incredible work!"
"Your knife skills aren't half bad. Hm... Come by my forge sometime. I'll make you a proper knife fitted exactly to your hand."
Mokona's movements were fast yet delicate enough to earn praise from everyone.
Before long, the hide, bones, and teeth had all been separated.
Mokona roughly wiped the blood from her hands and gestured toward Jack and Olaf.
"The dismantling is finished. Take whatever materials you need."
"Oh...! This really is perfect!"
While Jack excitedly gathered up the bones, Mokona nudged the remaining chunks of red meat with her foot.
"Dig a deep hole in the forest and bury the leftover meat. If you leave it lying around, the smell of rot will attract insects and beasts. Then disease will spread."
"Wait. Don't throw the meat away. Drain the blood and divide it by cut."
Mokona frowned at my request as though she couldn't understand what she'd just heard.
"Monster meat isn't edible. Especially meat from something as strong as a Behemoth. It smells disgusting and contains poison. If you force yourself to eat it, you'll die."
That was common knowledge in this world.
But to me?
