She removed the boards blocking the entrance. The inside of the mine was dim, just like last time, but there was no sign of Iblieth flying toward them. The cave was colder than the outside, and a thin layer of frost coated the walls. The Ice Bombs seemed to have done their job—there was no stench of decay.

Given what happened last time, they proceeded cautiously, but there was no sign of movement inside. They made it all the way to the open area, but nothing perched on the ceiling, and nothing lurked in the shadows of the rocks.

Only an overwhelming number of pitch-black Iblieth corpses lay silently piled across the square. From Mika’s feet all the way to the far end…

This was undeniably death brought about by Mika herself.

“I’m sorry, I just… need a moment…”

With those words, Mika set down the cart and ran outside. She stumbled out of the cave, leaned against a nearby tree, and crouched down, desperately fighting back nausea.

The three who had hurried after her placed their hands on her shoulders and back, peering at her face with concern.

“Mika…”

They didn’t ask if she was okay. Even if they were monsters, it was common for rookie adventurers to be shaken after seeing countless corpses. It would likely be the same even if they were ogres.

After crouching there for a while, Mika finally managed to suppress the nausea and looked up. There, she saw the small, worried faces of Dada, Gatt, and Zurah staring back at her. For a moment, their expressions reminded her of her own children.

That’s right. I can’t let them worry like this. A mother shouldn’t make her children anxious.

“I’m sorry for running out like that.”

“No, it’s fine,” Dada said. “You fought hard for us, Mika. We can handle cleaning up the bodies.”

The other two nodded in agreement, but Mika shook her head.

“No, I can’t do that. I have to take responsibility for what I’ve done—until the very end.”

At her words, Gatt—who rarely spoke much—suddenly began to talk, as if an idea had struck him.

“In this world…”

And then, slowly, he started to explain.

“In this world… no, perhaps it’s the same in Mika’s world too. To survive, we have to kill many other living things. Sometimes for food, sometimes to protect ourselves.

The resources mined here are necessary for us. Taking this place back from the monsters is important for our survival.

Just as we kill monsters, monsters also kill us to survive. Sometimes, tens of thousands of them swarm in and devour the crops we’ve worked so hard to grow. That’s why we have a reason to kill them.

But Mika… you’re only helping us because we asked. We assumed that, as an ogre, you wouldn’t mind killing humans or monsters. But if that’s not the case…

…If that’s not the case… if this is painful for you, then we should handle what we can ourselves.

Mika, you should rest a little longer.”

Listening to Gatt’s slow, hesitant words, Mika thought: That’s right. This is just like me fighting pests in our little home garden. We call them “pests,” but it’s not the bugs’ fault. They’re just living their lives. But the bugs and I can’t coexist in the garden. The bugs hide cleverly, develop toxins, and I patiently hunt them down and eliminate them. In other words—I kill them. Not out of good or evil, but for the sake of the harvest.

Since coming to this world, Mika had taken the side of its humans. She had grown fond of Dada, Gatt, and Zurah—she saw them as friends.

That’s why she chose to fight.

Not out of morality, but out of selfishness—for the sake of those she had come to care about.

“Don’t worry. A mother like me? Pest control is nothing!”