"Bubbles—!"
"Amazing!"
"So mysterious~!"
"Yes, it's mysterious, isn't it... Sigh."
Look at them. Look at these smiling faces. These kids, looking with wonder at their first piece of soap, were the same ones screaming "GYABIBIBIBIBI!!!" just an hour ago while literally mincing the enemy army. Now they're going "Bubbles?" My brain is going to break.
"I wish you guys could learn some moderation... Anyway, give me your foot. I'll wash it for you."
"Okay!"
There's only so much I can do with wings, but I managed to wash their legs and talons. Because I started with one of the younger ones, the entire flock decided they wanted to be washed too. At this point, I either have to keep going until they're satisfied or wait for them to forget. So, I'm stuck on laundry duty.
The aftermath of that battle was truly a mess. Once my kids go berserk, they don't stop. They either keep going until every enemy is dead, or they rage until they collapse from exhaustion—at which point they wake up and forget everything. They get angry when a comrade is hit, but me getting attacked is the ultimate trigger. It turns them into pure killing machines.
After the main force was crushed, the survivors tried to bolt for the forest. My kids wanted to hunt them down. But these idiots will forget where the nest is if I'm not there, so if they go into the woods, it's a permanent goodbye. I had to physically block their path and distract them by humming songs we used to sing on the Plateau to calm them down.
...And! For the record! I didn't let them eat any human meat! Rest easy on that!
(Well, thanks to that, maybe 100 soldiers managed to escape? The rest... not so much.)
The enemies dropped their weapons and pushed their horses to the limit to get away. My kids targeted anyone who tried to fight back or anyone making too much noise. Since they targeted the commanders first, most of the survivors were likely common foot soldiers. If my kids had stayed sane, I could have captured them for Matilde, but... well.
(In that state, they would have just kicked anyone in front of them into oblivion.)
Once they calmed down, I used every trick in the book to overwrite their short-term memory. I proved I was uninjured, told them fairy tales from my old world, and sang songs. It was basically a daycare center. Eventually, their memories cleared, and they returned to their usual selves.
This is the Ostrich Style Forgetfulness Technique! Wipe the memory, make them happy, and they won't even remember why they were mad. I shouldn't be the one saying this, but are you guys really okay with being like this? I guess you are...
I made sure they didn't attack the Plaque soldiers or adventurers. I honestly don't know what goes on in their heads, but fortunately, they didn't develop a "Kill all humans" instinct. I was genuinely relieved.
(If they had stayed hostile toward humans, we would have had to leave immediately.)
Since they were covered in blood and gore, we moved to a nearby river for bath time. When we headed out, the soldiers—who were handling the cleanup—gave me a massive supply of soap specifically designed for avian beastmen. It was their first time seeing soap, so they tried to eat it at first, but once they realized it made bubbles, it became a toy.
"Customer, do you have any itchy spots today?"
"Cus-tomer?"
"Ah, you don't know that word. Does it itch anywhere? I'll wash it."
"I don't know!"
"Alright, alright, full-body scrub it is."
Still... we did just massacre a lot of humans. Is that going to be okay? I talked to Matilde and the soldiers briefly, and they seemed cheerful enough. But overwhelming power is terrifying. Even if the soldiers are fine with it, the ordinary citizens might be scared.
If they start throwing stones and yelling "Get out!", well... I don't want to think about it. I should talk to Matilde about the political side of things.
"She said they'd have another banquet once the cleanup is done. I'll ask her then."
"Banquet? Oh! A festival!"
"Oh, you remembered? Good job! Gold star for you. You ate a lot of yummy food yesterday, right? They're doing it again today to celebrate the victory."
"Food! Food!"
"Yes, yes, let's eat a lot." I said, washing the blood off his feathers.
Actually, tomorrow is going to be rough. Today's power was like a loan from the future. Because of their rage, their limiters came off, but tomorrow they'll be dying of muscle pain. They'll wake up, forget why they hurt, and roll around the ground screaming "It hurts!" "Why!" "Waaaaah!"
Back on the Plateau, we had to move to a safe zone before the soreness kicked in. Being near a town where we don't have to worry about predators makes this much easier.
(Well, it heals in a few hours, so no big deal.)
In the Nagan Kingdom: The Strategist's Room
The relaxed atmosphere of "I wonder if the victory report is here yet" was shattered instantly.
"S-Sorry, Alan-san. My ears must be failing me. I thought I heard you say: 'The invasion force was defeated, survivors unknown. The Magic Corps was literally annihilated, and both General Delotado and Bobre are dead'..."
『U-Unfortunately... that is the case.』
"Wait, really? Really, really? H-How?"
When faced with an impossible reality, the brain simply stops believing.
The Strategist stood up so fast his chair nearly tipped. His heart screamed it was a lie, but seeing Alan's "ready to die" expression through the communication circle, he had to accept it. His strength left him, and he collapsed back into his seat.
Lost? 5,500 men, including the pride of Nagan—the Magic Corps? Against a garrison of barely 800?
He ran through the possibilities. It wasn't a lack of coordination. Delotado was an ideologue but a capable general. Bobre was a trusted researcher who knew his role. No, the problem wasn't Nagan. It was the opponent. There was something there that Nagan simply couldn't account for.
"...The mercenaries that arrived in Plaque yesterday?"
『Y-Yes! A group calling themselves 'Ostriches.' They charged alone, broke the shield wall, wiped out the Magic Corps, and then dismantled the rest of the army...』
Ostriches. So that was the name of the mercenary group. He listened to Alan's trembling report, piecing together the profile of the enemy.
A leader named Reis. A group of bird-type beastmen. Flightless, ground-running types. Based on the banquet, the others had low intelligence—or pretended to—while the leader handled everything. Reis was relatively mild-tempered but deeply loved her kind. She was also perceptive enough to spot a spy's gaze immediately.
(...And most importantly, their combat power.)
Individual speed exceeding a cavalry charge. Kicks powerful enough to cleave through heavy plate armor and thick iron shields. And a "method" to resist lightning magic. They ignored the Magic Corps' attacks and trampled them. A force of 300 that wiped out 5,000 in minutes.
"A 'Special Strategic Asset' usually refers to an individual... but they are a collective asset, then?"
Alan's information from the wall was limited by distance, but the core fact remained: the mercenaries suffered zero casualties. They processed 5,000 men without a scratch. They were, without a doubt, a "Special Strategic Asset."
"I thought I was being neurotic about gathering intelligence on such assets across the continent, and yet..."
To have a force this powerful appear out of nowhere... it shouldn't be possible for them to slip through his intelligence network.
"...I understand, Alan-san. Good work. I issued the order for this invasion; the responsibility is mine alone. Do not let this weigh on you too heavily."
『T-Thank you!』
"Since an irregularity has occurred, the plan is scrapped. Alan, until a new plan is decided, investigate this 'Ostrich' group. Any scrap of info helps. Get as close as possible without being suspected. Praise them as heroes if you must; you are the 'Official Merchant of Plaque,' after all."
『...Understood.』
"One more thing. Heed does not have long-distance communication like we do. They will send messengers. I will task other spies to delay those reports as long as possible. We need time."
『Yes, sir!』
The Strategist cut the connection. His spies were loyal, but he had to act. He had two weeks, at most, before the news reached the King of Heed.
He stood up and began walking toward the King's chambers. He had to maintain the appearance of being in control. He could be executed for this failure, but he couldn't leave the country without a leader in these turbulent times.
(...Why now? Why that specific city?)
The question haunted him. He had prepared for failure, but not this kind of failure. A literal annihilation.
(I can only pray for the safety of any who survived. That's all I can do now...)
The loss of the Magic Corps was the most painful. 500 sets of high-tech magic tools were now in the enemy's hands. He had included self-destruct mechanisms, but how many had time to trigger them? He had to assume the technology was compromised.
And the soldiers... even with national power, you can't just "make" more mages. Only a tiny fraction of the population can emit mana. Finding two in a village of a hundred is lucky. These 500 were a lifetime of work.
(Nagan is surrounded by three nations. Two of them have a Special Strategic Asset. We had none.)
He was called a "Strategic Asset" for his brain, but he knew the truth. Real assets were monsters. He had faced one in the last war and barely survived a stalemate. He never wanted to do it again.
"Perhaps it's a blessing that 'The Ostriches' are at the bottom tier of Strategic Assets..."
Because they were a group, they might still be susceptible to manipulation. 300 individuals meant 300 different desires and weaknesses. He didn't have to break a whole nation; he just had to break the flock.
"And we are saved by the fact they are mercenaries."
If they were Heed's special forces, an invasion of Nagan would already be underway. But they were staying in Plaque. For now, he could treat them as a wandering band.
(Wait... is it possible they were just literally 'just passing through'...? No, that's impossible.)
He returned to his logic. He needed to buy time.
(I must secure a non-aggression pact, or better yet, a military alliance. We must create a situation where Heed cannot attack us, even though we were the aggressors. 'Forget the past' must be the slogan... God, I hate how cowardly this is.)
The moment the truth comes out, Nagan will be hated. But if a treaty is signed and announced to the world, Heed cannot attack without looking like the treaty-breakers. He would offer a formal apology and reparations, blaming the invasion on a "rogue faction."
If he could pull it off, the kingdom wouldn't be destroyed.
"I must get the King's permission. If we can reach a military alliance, I might get to see these 'Ostriches' with my own eyes..."
.....
Ostrich Bathing Habits
Just like real ostriches can swim, Ostrich Beastmen are capable of swimming. Because their leader, Reis, is a fan of cleanliness and grooming, they bathe regularly. The flock has no fear of water; in fact, they love it as it's a chance to play with Mama.
On the Plateau, they had to be extremely careful as "Biku-Biku" class monsters lurked in the water, making bath time a dangerous gamble. Finding a peaceful river near a town with plenty of fish has made them very happy.
The soap used was derived from natural materials that don't harm the environment. However, it apparently tastes bitter and terrible with a weird aftertaste. Even if the bubbles look tempting, eating it is not recommended. (Source: Testimonies from the flock.)