Saving The Monster Race Starts With Breeding The Elf Village

Back outside, walking the stone pathways between houses, Luca spotted a patch of strange plants growing in the space between two buildings.

They looked almost like corn—tall and stalky—but mixed with the characteristics of sugarcane. They weren’t cultivated in neat rows or tended gardens; instead, they grew wild, like massive weeds that had been allowed to flourish undisturbed.

Sigrid turned to look and smiled knowingly.

”We call them Itch-brush. They are not for consumption purposes. They don’t even produce fruit.”

”Then why are there patches of them everywhere?” Luca asked, genuinely puzzled. ”They don’t look particularly pretty. They seem almost like weeds—hard and thorny, like shrubs.”

”That’s exactly why we keep them.” Sigrid replied, and there was a note of satisfaction in her voice.

Luca stared at her obvious confusion. ”I don’t understand.”

Sigrid’s expression shifted to something slightly sheepish as she explained,

”You see, Sir Luca, sometimes our centaur bodies develop an itch here and there. Especially on hot summer days when we are sweating heavily. We want to scratch those places, naturally. But unfortunately...”

She made a show of trying to reach behind herself, only for her to fail to reach her hand’s destination.

”...because of the limitations of our bodies, we cannot reach every part of ourselves.”

She sighed before her expression brightened and she pointed at the thorny shrubs, which rose nearly to her own shoulder.

”That is why these are here. We simply walk inside, and the shrubs do the work for us. They scratch what we cannot reach.”

She demonstrated without hesitation, stepping carefully into the thicket. .

The thorny stalks reached to her shoulders, and Luca could see them pressing into her fur, scratching at the places she couldn’t reach.

But rather than wincing or pulling away, Sigrid’s expression melted into one of pure satisfaction—like someone finally scratching an itch that had been plaguing them for hours.

”Please keep your hands away from the plants, Sir Luca.” She called out. ”The thorns would not be kind to human skin.”

Luca watched with fascination as she emerged from the shrubbery, looking thoroughly contented.

”It’s almost like a massage, isn’t it?”

”Yes, you could think of it that way.” Sigrid hummed with satisfaction.

”The centaur body has many advantages, but there are also certain disadvantages. We’ve had to develop solutions like this to compensate.”

---

Sigrid stepped back onto the pathway and resumed her role as tour guide with renewed enthusiasm.

”This is where we store our weaponsn” She explained, pointing to a large stone building. ”Each family contributes to the armory, and we maintain everything together.”

She moved on quickly.

”This is where our local baker lives. Her name is Marigold—she makes the most wonderful bread and sweet treats! If you’re hungry later, I’ll introduce you.”

She pointed to another area where several of those cushions had been set up under a shade.

”This courtyard is a resting place. Those mattresses are for centaurs who have just finished their training and need a moment to recover.”

Then, gesturing into the distance: ”Beyond the village lies the main training yard. That’s where our warriors practice their swordsmanship and drills.”

On and on she went, pointing out building after building, explaining each location with genuine enthusiasm.

She was a natural guide, her voice carrying the pride of someone who loved her home and wanted to share it with others.

Luca smiled as he took it all in. Even though the other centaurs continued to avoid him, glaring from their hiding spots with open hostility, he genuinely appreciated the effort Sigrid was putting in.

And everywhere he looked, he saw evidence of centaur knighthood woven into the fabric of daily life.

Houses displayed old shields beside their front doors. Swords hung decoratively in gardens, their blades catching the sunlight.

The entire village seemed to breathe with the spirit of warriors who had retired their weapons but could not bear to part with them.

”Those are all old weapons we’ve used.” Sigrid explained, noticing his interest. ”We don’t want to throw them away, so we keep them..They give the village a rather rustic, beautiful feel, don’t you think?”

Luca agreed wholeheartedly.

But the most amusing aspect of the tour remained the villagers themselves. Wherever they went, centaurs scattered like startled deer, retreating to what they clearly considered safe distances.

Even the hot-blooded young warriors who seemed ready to confront him would freeze in place the moment Sigrid fixed them with her commanding glare.

They would hesitate, reconsider, and then scamper away with as much dignity as they could salvage.

Sigrid’s authority, it seemed, extended far beyond the battlefield.

—

When she had finished showing him most of the village, Sigrid tapped her hoof against the ground beneath them.

”Even the pathways here are specially modified to accommodate centaurs.”

”Yeah, I noticed that from the beginning.” Luca nodded. ”The paths are extremely smooth—no bumps, no corners, no dents at all. They’re beautifully made.”

He studied the stone pathways that wound throughout the village, connecting houses and gardens and public spaces.

There was no mud anywhere. No rough patches.

Each slab of stone had been carefully fitted together to create a seamless surface that felt almost polished beneath his feet.

”The houses themselves also have beautiful pathways leading to them.” He added.

”That’s because ventaurs prefer smoother ground. Even though we can traverse rocky terrain when necessary, we prefer not to. It is much easier to trip, fall, or catch our legs on something when the ground is uneven. And if we do fall...”

She winced slightly.

”It is quite easy for a centaur to break their legs depending on the circumstances.”

Luca nodded thoughtfully, comparing it to horses in his mind.

Given that centaurs carried so much weight on top of their bodies, a fall could be catastrophic.

Those relatively fragile legs, bearing such a massive load, could snap like twigs if the impact was severe enough.

He considered the difficulties centaurs faced daily—the challenges of stairs, of narrow spaces, of reaching their own backs.

It gave him a newfound appreciation for their resilience.

Then a thought occurred to him, and before he could stop himself, the question slipped out.

”How much do you weigh, Sigrid?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake.

”Wait—no, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask a lady such a question. Forget I said anything—”

But Sigrid merely looked confused. ”Why not?”

Luca blinked, caught off guard. ”I mean...isn’t it taboo? Asking a woman her weight? Don’t women usually hate that question?”

Sigrid waved a dismissive hand. ”Not really. I don’t know how human women feel about such things, but for centaurs, it’s not a taboo topic at all.”

She smiled, and there was genuine pride in her expression.

”In fact, it’s quite the opposite. It’s a matter of pride for us.”

Luca stared at her. ”Pride?”

”Of course. After all, we value strong, powerful bodies above all else!”

Seeing that Luca still didn’t get the full picture, she went on to explain.

”You see, a heavier body means more mass, which means more powerful attacks. It makes us more effective in battle. And as a race of warriors, it is far more important to possess a heavy, powerful body than a light one.

”I myself am much heavier than the average centaur!” She beamed. ”I weigh approximately seven hundred kilograms. It is quite a significant accomplishment!”

”But overall, everyone here eats quite a lot specifically to increase their weight.”

Luca stared at her, momentarily speechless.

This was, without question, the first time in recent times that he had encountered a woman who not only admitted her weight openly, but boasted about it.

In every other culture he had encountered in the modern age, weight was a subject of intense sensitivity.

Women would sooner discuss their deepest secrets than reveal how much they weighed.

But here, among the centaurs, it was a source of pride. A measure of one’s worth as a warrior.

’But...it makes sense in a warrior’s culture.’

The ogres probably felt similarly. Perhaps the beastkin as well.

But the elves...the elves would be horrified by such a conversation!

If he asked Leona or Nyx about their weight, he would likely find himself dodging arrows before the sentence was even complete.

He made a mental note: different races, different sensitivities.

A simple question could be deeply offensive in one culture and perfectly casual in another.

But then another question occurred to him, prompted by their surroundings—a beautiful garden overflowing with berries and fruit.

”If you were to overindulge in food.” He asked carefully. ”Where would the weight go? Would it affect your human half or your equine half?”

He looked at her, eyes moving between her lower and upper body.

”Essentially, I’m asking which part would get bigger and fatter if you were to overindulge.”

Sigrid pondered the question seriously for a moment.

”Truthfully...a female centaur’s upper body almost never gains fat.”

Luca gasped, his eyes going wide. ”REALLY?!”

”Yes.” Sigrid nodded innocently. ”Aside from the muscle tone we build in our arms and shoulders from swinging broadswords, any excess weight we gain goes entirely to our lower half—specifically making our flank and hindquarters larger and stronger.’

’You will never see a centaur with a fat upper torso.”

Luca’s expression shifted through several stages of incredulity before settling on something approaching alarm.

”Sigrid...I am begging you...on your honor as a knight...DO NOT EVER TELL MY ELVEN WIVES THAT.”

Sigrid tilted her head with innocent curiosity.

”Why not? Is weight truly such a taboo topic among them?”

”IT IS A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH!” Luca squeaked frantically.

”If the elven women find out that centaurs can eat whatever they want and only gain weight in their lower bodies while staying slender up top, they’ll go crazy with jealousy and snipe you from three miles away with longbows!”

Sigrid looked genuinely baffled.

”But why would that bother them? It’s simply how our biology works.”

”Because they spend every day worrying about every morsel they consume, terrified of gaining a single gram! If they learn that your kind can eat freely without consequence...”

Luca shook his head gravely. ”I’m warning you, Sigrid. Never mention this to them.”

He could picture it now—the outrage, the jealousy, the impassioned speeches about biological unfairness.

Sigrid still seemed perplexed by the concept, but she nodded dutifully. ”I’ll keep it in mind, Sir Luca.”

But despite the seriousness of his warning, Luca found his attention drifting back to Sigrid’s figure.

Now that she wasn’t wearing her armor, he could see her shape more clearly—the way her horse body tapered into a slender human back, the slight width of her shoulders that revealed the muscles beneath her fair skin, and, of course, the most distracting feature of all.

Her breasts.

They were massive. Even from behind, he could see them bulging at the sides of her torso, their curves impossible to ignore.

When she turned her head to look around, her ponytail would sway, but so too would those magnificent assets, shifting left and right with every movement.

When she galloped, they bounced with an energy that seemed almost hypnotic.

It was incredibly distracting.

Leona had massive breasts as well, but she moved with such grace that they barely seemed to shift.

Centaurs, by contrast, couldn’t help but jiggle. Their bodies simply weren’t designed for subtle, restrained movement.

Every step sent ripples through Sigrid’s frame, and those ripples inevitably reached her chest.

Luca found himself staring hard.

Sigrid, feeling the weight of his stare, turned with a suspicious expression.

”Sir Luca...what exactly are you looking at?”

Luca snapped his attention back to her face, his expression carefully neutral.

”Nothing. Nothing at all. Just...admiring the scenery.”

She frowned. ”The scenery?”

”The architecture.” He added quickly. ”The gardens. The...bouncy castle.”

Sigrid’s frown deepened. ”Bouncy castle? What is that?”

”Just a figure of speech from my world. Don’t worry about it.”

Sigrid eyed him suspiciously for a moment longer, then shrugged and turned away, resuming her walk.

Luca let out a quiet breath of relief, silently vowing to keep his eyes firmly above her shoulders for the remainder of the day.

It was a vow he broke he broke in very next minute.