Saving The Monster Race Starts With Breeding The Elf Village

Eventually, Claudia joined the scene, and the family found themselves tangled in a beautiful, wholesome embrace

Then Agnes suddenly flinched.

Her face flushed red, and she pulled back abruptly, as though someone had pinched her from behind.

”Mother?” Riley pulled back, her expression immediately sharpening with concern. ”What’s wrong? Is it the pain? Is it coming back?”

Her hand flew to her sword as if she could fight off her mother’s injury with steel and fury.

Nella’s face crumpled. The little pony had just gotten her grandmother back.

The thought of losing her again, of watching those newly restored legs falter and fail, was more than she could bear.

”Grandma? Grandma, what’s happening? Should I get the Evil Hero? Should I get a healer? Should I—”

”Hush, both of you.” Agnes’s voice was strained but steady. ”I’m fine. Perfectly fine. It’s just—”

She reached down, grabbed the edge of the cloth covering her equine half, and slowly lifted it.

”—I have a guest underneath me.”

Curled beneath her, crouched so compactly that she had been completely invisible, was—

”MAVIS?!” Claudia’s voice cracked.

”MASTER MAVIS?!” Nella’s went two octaves higher.

It was true. Mavis had somehow snuck directly beneath Agnes, using her pony frame to her advantage.

She was now crouched there, her face inches from the prosthetic device strapped to the elder’s leg, her eyes wide with a fascination that bordered on religious awe.

”Fascinating.” She breathed. ”Absolutely fascinating.”

”Mavis.” Agnes said, her voice caught between exasperation and amusement. ”I understand you’re interested in what’s on my leg, but did you have to sneak underneath me to look at it? I could have simply taken it off for you to examine.”

”Useless. Completely useless if you take it off.”

Mavis shook her head without breaking her gaze from the prosthetic.

”This is obviously a device that can only be properly observed when actively in use. I need to see it functioning. I need to see the way the components interact under load. I need to—”

She trailed off, her fingers hovering just above the sleek metal casing without quite touching it.

”Please stay exactly as you are. Don’t move. This is vitally important.”

”Very well.” Agnes sighed. ”Make yourself comfortable, I suppose.”

”Already have.”

”That’s what I was afraid of.”

Mavis had stopped listening. Her attention was fully consumed by the marvel before her that was unlike anything she had ever seen.

The prosthetic didn’t simply wrap around the injured portion of Agnes’s leg like a crude brace or splint.

It was a sophisticated exoskeletal support system that distributed weight across multiple anchor points, transferring the burden from the damaged muscle and bone to the device itself.

The main support strut ran parallel to the leg, constructed from some material Mavis couldn’t identify—lightweight but clearly immensely strong, with a faint metallic sheen that caught the sunlight.

Smaller components branched off at key joint points, their movements synchronized with Agnes’s natural gait through some mechanism that Mavis was still trying to puzzle out.

”This joint here.” She muttered, more to herself than anyone else. ”Hydro dampening. Has to be. The way it absorbs impact without transferring vibration to the leg itself...but the fluid would need to be impossibly responsive. Unless it’s not hydraulic at all. Unless it’s...”

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing.

”Pneumatic? No, the casing is too slim. Gorgall resistance? Some kind of smart material that changes viscosity under pressure? That would explain the smooth transition between rest and motion, but the power requirements would be...”

”Master Mavis?”

Nella had crouched down beside her mentor, her tiny face scrunched with concentration as she tried to follow the technical analysis.

”What’s a hydro dampening?”

”Hydro, Nella. It means using liquid to transfer force. But that’s not what this is. This is something else entirely.”

Mavis pointed at a small component near the ankle joint.

”See this? This is a sensor. It’s reading the muscle movements and adjusting the support in real time. Agnes decides to move forward, and the prosthetic moves with her before her hoof even leaves the ground. She decides to turn, and the prosthetic anticipates the lateral shift and compensates.”

”It’s not just supporting her leg...it’s synchronized with her intentions.”

She sat back as much as she could while still crouched beneath Agnes and let out a breath that was equal parts awe and frustration.

”I understand maybe half of what I’m looking at. The other half is based on principles I’ve never even conceived of.”

”It’s like someone took everything I know about mechanics and engineering and said, ’That’s cute. Now look at what the next five hundred years of progress looks like.’”

Agnes, still holding up her cloth like a tent, glanced down at the little pony-turned-scholar beneath her.

”That’s quite the assessment.”

”It’s quite the device.” Mavis finally looked up, and her eyes were practically glowing. ”The weight distribution alone—Agnes, you’re not feeling any strain at all, are you? Even when you gallop?”

”Not a bit. It feels like my leg is twenty years younger.”

”Twenty years younger. She says twenty years younger.” Mavis shook her head in wonder. ”I’ve spent my entire life trying to build things that make up for what our bodies can’t do. And this, this single device makes my entire workshop look like a child’s toy collection.”

”Don’t say that!” Nella protested. ”Master Mavis, you make amazing things! Your swords are the best in the village!”

”My swords are sticks and rocks compared to this.”

But Mavis was smiling—a genuine, exhilarated smile.

”And that’s wonderful! Do you understand, Nella? That’s not disappointing. That’s inspiring. It means there’s so much more to learn than I ever imagined!”

Hearing the excitement in her master’s tone, Nella got excited as well.

”Me too! Let me see! Let Nella see!”

Before anyone could stop her, she dove beneath Agnes as well, squeezing in beside Mavis with the determination of a badger tunneling into its den.

Agnes, Riley, and Claudia exchanged looks of disbelief.

Then they burst out laughing.

But As Agnes looked around the square, she realized their little scene was far from unique.

Elder centaurs were showing off their newly restored mobility to disbelieving family members.

Children were dragging their grandmothers toward the training grounds for impromptu races.

Warriors who hadn’t smiled in years were grinning so wide their faces must have ached.

The last time the village had felt this alive...Agnes couldn’t remember.

It was the first time in decades that the village had felt so alive.

—

Meanwhile, Sigrid watched the scene from a distance, a beautiful smile gracing her features.

All of this was because of Luca. The man who had arrived as a stranger just days ago had somehow brought more happiness to this village than she had seen in years.

And even though Sigrid herself had no mother or grandmother to share this moment with, she felt the overwhelming positivity radiating through the air.

She had watched these elders suffer for so long.

She had seen them struggle with even the simplest movements, their once-proud bodies reduced to shadows of what they had been.

The thought of facing a similar fate herself was a nightmare she tried not to dwell on.

But now? Now no one would have to suffer like that again.

The most amusing sight, however, was Poppy.

The queen was making her way from elder to elder, tears streaming down her face as she hugged each one in turn.

”I’m so glad you’re alright, Sebby!”

”You can walk again! You can run again, Faria!”

”I missed riding on your back so much!”

”You always had the most comfortable back to ride on, Moody!”

”I was so worried about you!”

The elders accepted her tearful hugs with patient smiles, their faces soft with affection. They were covered in the queen’s tears, but they didn’t seem to mind at all. If anything, they looked gratified—touched that their queen cared so deeply.

Thea followed behind, a small smile on her face, ready to intervene if Poppy’s enthusiasm got out of hand.

Finally, Sigrid turned to look at Luca on her back.

He was lounged with the boneless contentment of a cat in a sunbeam, his eyes fixed on the stars beginning to emerge overhead.

”You look remarkably unbothered for someone who just changed the course of this village’s history.” Sigrid observed.

Luca glanced at her lazily.

”I do good deeds like this all the time.” He said, his tone entirely casual. ”I’m basically a saint. A samaritan. Seeing such sights is nothing new to me.” He puffed out his chest with exaggerated pride. ”I’m quite used to being the Hero, you know!”

Sigrid giggled despite herself.

But even as she laughed at his boasting, she knew there was truth in his words.

Whether it was the elf village or her own, Luca was constantly helping people. His entire personality seemed built around spreading happiness wherever he went.

She wondered what the future would hold if he continued helping the demi-human continent like this.

Maybe, one day, true peace would come. No wars. No negative emotions. No fear of human attacks.

Just...happiness.

It was a beautiful dream.

But her thoughts were interrupted when the sounds around them suddenly grew quiet.

Sigrid turned to see Riley and a group of young centaurs walking toward them—about thirty of them, all wearing expressions of nervous determination.

Riley herself was fidgeting with her fingers, looking slightly frustrated, as though she had something to say but couldn’t find the words.

Luca raised an eyebrow. ”If you’re here to fight, I’ll warn you...now’s not the time. Let the elders enjoy their moment.”

Sigrid shot the young warriors a stern look. ”How long are you going to keep this up? Sir Luca has done more for us than we could ever repay! Surely you can set aside your grievances for one day.”

She paused, then added in a quieter voice: ”And I...I don’t actually mind him sitting on my back. So there’s no need to make such a fuss about it.”

A ripple of surprise passed through the crowd. Several elders exchanged knowing glances and whispered behind their hands.

The commander of the Galloping Brigade indirectly admitting that she was comfortable with a man on her back? The implications were...

Sigrid stamped her hoof, her blush deepening.

”That’s not—I didn’t mean it like—”

But Riley was already shaking her head.

”Commander, that’s not why we’re here. We didn’t come to fight.”

Sigrid blinked. ”You didn’t?”

The other young centaurs nodded in agreement.

”We would never ruin such a moment with fighting.”

”We just wanted to...”

”To say something.”

Sigrid’s expression softened. ”What exactly did you want to say?”

Riley took a deep breath, gathering her courage. Then, with visible effort, she bowed her head.

”Thank you, Hero for what you’ve done!”