Riser
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🕑 Added 2025-09-27 22:12:31 +0000 UTCChapter 29: A Rival Appears
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The steady sound of hammering echoed this was the forge. The heat was so intense that one couldn’t work with clothes on, and someone was hard at work inside.
“Begin!”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Mary gripped the iron with tongs as Milk hammered it. Working in sync, they produced one, then two, then more fine iron swords.
It was no longer just Mary’s forge it was now Mary and Milk’s forge. There was another anvil, another workbench.
Now fifteen, Milk was fully part of the forge. The high-quality swords and farming tools he and Mary produced had impressed Honkale, leading to this arrangement.
Of course, he still followed Honkale’s order to produce children. The original command to have three children was fulfilled when Linda gave birth to his child.
Mary and Buren had not yet borne his children, but the opportunity was shared fairly, so they waited patiently for his visits.
According to Ru, Mary and Buren weren’t as compatible with him, so conception was harder, but with time and intimacy, it would eventually happen.
Bang!
The final sword was finished. Milk inspected it, set it aside, and wiped his sweat, signaling the end of today’s work.
“Whew!”
His height, which once seemed like it would never increase, had reached 130 cm taller than his father.
He had a good frame for a Holstaurus male, and, despite his small body, his muscles were well developed. But then Ru delivered a bombshell:
You’ve finished growing.
He’d heard this at fourteen and spent a day in shock, but there was nothing to do but accept it.
On the other hand, while his height stopped, his penis kept growing now it was 30 cm. Fortunately, Ru said it would not grow any further.
“Good work, Milk.”
“You too, Mary. Are you free?”
“Sorry, not today. I have deliveries and other work to help with.”
“Too bad. I was going to send you to heaven again today.”
“Eek!”
She quickly covered his mouth with her hand and looked around to see if anyone was nearby.
“There’s no one here and even if there were, what does it matter? We’re married.”
“Still... be more discreet. It’s embarrassing...”
“Hehe, okay, Mary.”
Milk gently turned her face and gave her a quick kiss.
“Mm...”
“See you next week. I’ll help out again.”
“Okay...”
Milk hung up his hammer and wrapped a cloth around his waist. Now that he was taller, he could use a bigger cloth to cover himself, so his penis was less exposed than before.
Still, it stuck out a bit, but at least it didn’t dangle out halfway like it used to.
Outside the forge, he saw Linda surrounded by women warrior women of the tribe, some off duty today.
They were watching Linda’s sword dance. As she moved, sweat glistened and reflected off her sword, Shake.
“Ooh! That’s Shake!”
“Masterpiece Shake!!!”
“Wow! Sis, you’re amazing! Shake is amazing too!”
‘Ugh...’
Milk was experiencing firsthand the embarrassment of giving a sword a silly name. Every time Linda performed with Shake, the warrior women gushed over her and the sword.
And then
“It’s Milk!”
“Milk!!!”
“Ah! Milk! Please make a sword for me too!”
“You brat?! Hey, I asked first!”
“Move! It’s me, it’s me!”
“Milk!!!”
It was always like this. Shake, which Linda wielded, was tougher and sharper than any weapon in the tribe, with a beautiful, feminine design perfect for women.
When Shake first appeared, the tribe specifically, the warrior women went wild.
The best sword for the best warrior: everyone admired and praised both Linda and the sword.
Naturally, attention turned to Milk, the creator, and many warrior women flirted with him, asking for swords.
Their best offer was themselves, and some even tried to seduce him outright, which gave Milk a bit of a neurosis for a while.
Thanks to Linda’s effective handling (she beat them in sparring), help from Millie, Buren, and Mary, and, most of all, Chief Honkale’s stern warnings, things had calmed down. But whenever Linda performed with Shake, this scene repeated.
“You brats!!!”
“Eek!”
“Ugh!”
“Ah! Sis!”
Linda’s shout made the women back off. One woman blocking Milk’s path turned and asked,
“You okay?”
“Yeah thanks, Bel.”
Bel, now a proud seventeen-year-old Holstaurus woman, had grown up strong and fast and become a warrior.
She held her main weapon, a spear, in one hand and a shield in the other. Linda thanked her.
“Thanks, Bel.”
“No problem, sis. Protecting Milk is my job too.”
After becoming a warrior, Bel was assigned by Honkale as Milk’s second guard, and now trained under Linda.
Yuke had wanted to be a warrior too, but her mother overruled her, so she joined her mother Yuri’s gathering team instead.
Three years had brought many changes to Milk’s tribe. Some things stayed the same, but more had changed.
Yuke and Bel became adults and took on tribal roles. Milk and Linda’s daughter learned to roll over, and Millie’s two daughters were now toddling and starting to talk.
Linda, needing to guard Milk, returned to work soon after giving birth, so Millie took care of Linda’s daughter as well.
With three kids to watch, Millie gave up her old job making necklace materials, and Buren stepped in to help, passing the job to another Holstaurus woman.
Buren was happy to live with Millie and be closer to Milk, so there was no objection. Milk’s house was expanded again, with new rooms for Bel, Buren, and the children.
But the biggest change in the tribe was the birth of a third-ranking male a new boy.
Three years ago, after Linda and Milk made love in the shed, a boy named Bark was born. His name means “strong one.”
If Milk’s name meant “longevity,” Bark’s was as straightforward as it gets. Honkale doted on his son, but only Milk.
Male children were both essential for the tribe’s future and a potential headache if there were too many.
The reason: power. Only one man could become chief; the rest would be weeded out.
No one, not even Honkale, expected another boy to be born. Holstaurus rarely have boys, so he’d sired many children without worry, but now he regretted it.
After Milk was born, Honkale worked hard to produce more women for the tribe, but that effort now threatened to strangle Milk’s future.
Milk was just happy to have a little brother, but for Honkale, it was a major worry.
He himself had two younger brothers both killed, not by illness, but murdered.
Their killer was none other than Honkale’s own father. Honkale learned this after becoming chief and went to their mothers to ask forgiveness on his father’s behalf.
The mothers said they understood, but who wouldn’t grieve for a lost son?
For context, the gender ratio at Honkale’s birth was 50 women to 3 men.
His father killed his brothers to ensure Honkale’s path to chief was clear, with no power struggles.
After that, his father never took another wife, passed the chief’s title to Honkale, and lived quietly until his death.
The women celebrated the birth of a new boy, but only Honkale could not enjoy it.
Milk, Millie, and Bark’s mother, Chiraya, all noticed Honkale’s gloomy face.
From then on, women around Chiraya began gathering around Bark, away from Honkale’s eyes, slowly building their own faction.
Now, three years later, Bark was growing strong and healthy, and some women were starting to have other ideas.
“Milk!”
“Hm?”
It was Buren, calling him. She told Milk that Honkale wanted to see him at the chief’s house.
“Thanks for letting me know, Buren.”
“I don’t know what’s going on, but the chief looked troubled. Do you know anything?”
“No... I have no idea.”
Milk was a bit worried. Lately, Honkale’s health had been declining. As Milk grew up, his father was aging and weakening.
The average Holstaurus male lived to 300, but some died at 250. Honkale was now over 200 more than halfway through his life.
He should have another 100 years, but poor health could cause problems.
Milk hurried to the chief’s house with Bel and Linda. After greeting the warrior women at the entrance, they were let in.
Just as Milk was heading for Honkale’s room, a woman appeared. She had black hair, not especially pretty but attractive, with sharp eyes and a mole under her right eye, giving her a mature aura.
This was Bark’s mother, Chiraya. She now lived in the chief’s house almost as much as Ella.
Bark, chubby-cheeked and healthy, was sleeping in her arms.
Milk greeted her:
“Chiraya how have you been?”
Usually, she would respond warmly, but today she seemed cold, almost hostile.
“Ah... yes...”
She didn’t even do the traditional Holstaurus nose greeting, just brushed past him and went into another room.
“Hm?”
“How rude...”
“What’s wrong with her?”
Bel and Linda bristled at Chiraya’s rudeness, but Milk just figured something must have happened and didn’t dwell on it.
He went to Honkale’s room, where his father, as always, sat in a big chair and greeted Milk warmly with a hug.
