Saving The Monster Race Starts With Breeding The Elf Village

Sigrid watched all of this with her mouth slightly open, unable to form words.

Luca rested his chin on her shoulder again. ”So. About that plan to have Poppy shut everything down—”

”What did you do to her?” Sigrid interrupted

”Nothing, really. I just explained the concept, and she immediately wanted to play.”

Luca said like it was no big deal to entice their queen before letting out a deep sigh and adding,

”Unfortunately, she has absolutely terrible luck. Like, historically bad. So I set her up with an unlimited supply of coins—she can have as many as she wants, no questions asked. That way she never runs out, never gets discouraged, and never has a reason to shut the whole thing down.”

”You’re keeping her addicted with free money!”

”I prefer to think of it as...royal patronage.”

Sigrid watched as Poppy placed another bet, then immediately began shouting encouragement at Zara. The little unicorn queen was practically vibrating with excitement, her earlier despair completely forgotten.

”So.” Luca murmured, his voice soft and warm. ”No matter which way you turn it’s the same, Sigrid. The elders are gambling. The youth are gambling. Your own queen is gambling. Even Thea is probably gambling—she’s just more subtle about it. There’s no one left to support your crusade.”

Sigrid’s shoulders slumped. ”I...I have no words.”

”That’s a first.”

”Shut up!”

But there was no venom in it. She was too exhausted, too overwhelmed, too thoroughly defeated.

Luca had outmaneuvered her at every turn. He’d taken her entire village and wrapped them all around his finger in the span of a single morning.

And the worst part? The absolute, undeniable worst part?

Everyone was happy.

She could see it in every face around her. The young centaurs, who had been so tense and frustrated last week, were laughing and cheering.

The mothers, who carried the weight of their families on their shoulders, were grinning as they counted their winnings.

The elders, who had spent years confined to their homes, were cackling over their tile games like mischievous children.

Even sweet, naive, easily-bullied Poppy was having the time of her life.

Luca had done this. He’d brought chaos, yes. But he’d also brought joy time and time again.

”How do you do it?” Sigrid asked quietly.

”Do what?”

”Everything. You waltz into our village, and within two days you’ve turned everything upside down. You’ve befriended the children, won over the mothers, healed the elders, and somehow convinced my entire clan to participate in an activity that goes against everything we believe in.”

She twisted to look at him.

”How?”

Luca’s smile softened. ”It’s not a trick, Sigrid. It’s just...I pay attention. I listen. I figure out what people need, and then I give it to them.”

”And what do we need?”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said,

”A break. You’ve all been so rigid for so long—holding onto your rules, your duties, your traditions—that you forgot how to just...breathe. How to have fun without feeling guilty about it. That’s all this is. Permission to loosen up a little.”

Sigrid stared at him. Then, very slowly, she turned back to face the crowd.

Permission to loosen up. Was that really all it took?

”Fine.” She said at last, her voice tired but not angry. ”You win. I can’t stop this.”

But she wasn’t done. She turned around, her blue eyes sharp with concern.

”What if this goes too far, Luca?”

Luca’s smile faded by a degree.

”Gambling can be...it can be dangerous.” She pressed on, her voice tight. ”I’ve read the histories. People selling everything their homes, their children, just to chase one more win. It’s a sickness.”

She met his eyes.

”You have good intentions. I believe that. But what if this has a deeper impact than you planned? What if it changes them forever? What if they’re dragged into the worst parts of it and can’t find their way back?”

Luca was quiet for a moment. Then he looked out at the centaurs cheering and groaning, at the elders cackling over their tiles, at the little ones giggling around their board games.

A small, knowing smile settled on his lips.

”You want to know why I introduced all of this?” He asked. ”The gambling, the laziness, the debauchery?”

Sigrid nodded.

”Because I knew you centaurs could handle it.”

She blinked. ”What?”

”I knew you were strong.” He turned to face her fully. ”Not just strong out here—” He tapped her shoulder. ”—but strong in here.”

His finger moved to rest lightly over her heart.

”No matter how much I push away your values, no matter how many rules I bend or break, you’ll always keep the core of who you are deep inside. I could introduce every vice in two worlds, and you’d still be centaurs at the end of the day. Honorable. Disciplined. True to yourselves.”

Sigrid’s breath caught.

”If it were any other race.” Luca continued with a wry chuckle. ”I wouldn’t have dared. Can you imagine the dark elves with a gambling den? They’d have turned it into a criminal empire by lunch. The beastkin would probably have eaten the dice. But you?” He shook his head. ”You’re different. I knew that from the moment I met you.”

A strange warmth bloomed in Sigrid’s chest. Pride—not the arrogant, chest-thumping kind, but something quieter. The Hero sent by the goddess herself was ranking her people above all others.

That...that meant something.

”And besides...”

Luca added, pulling a golden horseshoe coin from his pocket and flipping it through his fingers.

”You don’t need to worry about anyone losing their life savings. These?” He held it up. ”They’re not real currency. You can’t trade gold or silver for them. Trading them for actual coins is strictly forbidden—I made sure everyone understood that before we started. So the worst anyone loses is time and maybe a little pride. Nobody’s selling their house over a game of Mahjong.”

Sigrid stared at the little golden coin, relief washing over her in a cool wave.

No real harm. Just tokens. Just...She froze.

”Wait.” A new thought struck her like a thunderbolt. ”Luca. What about the children?”

Luca’s expression flickered.

”Did you introduce gambling to the children?” Her voice pitched higher. ”Tell me you didn’t teach the little ones to—”

”Well.” He said, dragging the word out. ”I didn’t exactly introduce them to gambling...”

Sigrid’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

”But I couldn’t leave them out, could I? They were furious. Absolutely furious. Nella organized a protest. There were signs. Very tiny, very angry signs.”

”A protest.” Sigrid repeated flatly.

”With chanting. It was adorable. So I set them up with something else.”

He guided her toward another corner of the training grounds, and Sigrid’s tension melted the moment she saw what was happening there.

The little ponies had their own cluster of small tables, but there were no betting slips, no coins, no odds boards.

Instead, the tables were covered with colorful boards and bright pieces—games she’d never seen before.

One group was hunched over a board with little plastic figures moving along a winding path.

Another was building towers out of wooden blocks, shrieking with laughter every time one wobbled.

A third group was matching cards with pictures of animals on them.

Nella was at the center table, studying a board covered in black and white stones with an expression of intense concentration.

Her opponent, a little chestnut filly, placed a stone with trembling hooves. Nella studied the board for a long moment. Then she placed her own stone with a decisive click.

”Ha!” She crowed. ”I win again! You’ve improved, Pippa, but you’re still no match for me!”

Pippa groaned. ”How are you so good at this?”

”I’ve been practicing. The Evil Hero taught me, and now I’m going to beat him one day.”

At another table, a different group of little ponies were playing something involving colorful cards.

One of them was practically bouncing with excitement.

”I win! I win!”

”No, you don’t! I have the highest card!”

”But mine is the special card! It beats everything!”

”That’s not a real rule!”

”It IS a real rule! The Evil Hero said so!”

”These are...board games?” Sigrid murmured, watching the scene with something dangerously close to fondness.

”Strategy games, mostly.” Luca agreed. ”No gambling. No stakes. Well—” He paused. ”—sometimes they bet dessert privileges. But I figured that was acceptable.”

Sigrid watched as another little pony triumphantly toppled a block tower and was immediately tackled by her giggling friends.

”They’re just...playing.”

”That’s the point. They’re children. The whole purpose of being a child is to have fun. The hard stuff comes later. For now?” He shrugged. ”Let them play.”

Sigrid turned to look at him and in that moment, she realised something once again.

The male centaurs were...the opposite of everything Luca was.

They were lazy, unbothered, content to send the female centaurs out to fight and die while they stayed safely behind. They treated their daughters not as children to be cherished, but as tools to be used.

Little fillies were forced into brutal training before they were old enough to understand why. Their childhoods were stolen, their innocence sacrificed, all for the sake of ’protecting the queen’ even though the males had no intention of ever protecting anyone themselves.

But Luca understood.

He understood that children needed to be children. That youth was for having fun, not for endless drills and discipline. He understood that the early years of life were meant to be a refuge, a time of joy and play before the world became difficult and hard.

It was a simple thing. A human thing. But it was also a good thing.

And it made Sigrid feel even more fond of him—something she hadn’t thought possible.