Chapter: 270
Lightly glancing over Queo-Tlan… Hmm, let’s just call it Queo from now on. That’ll make things simpler.
Queo’s physical condition was a total mess. If memory serves, it had to endure days clinging to a small boat, unable to eat or drink properly.
Just not having lost its life is a stroke of luck.
Normally, a lizardman would have stored plenty of nutrients in its thick tail… But now, perhaps having used up all that nourishment just to survive, its tail had become unnervingly thin.
No wait, maybe it’s thanks to those nutrients stored in its tail that it has managed to hold on this long.
Anyway, while the nutrition status was concerning, the most serious issue was obviously dehydration.
Even with all that seawater, there was no way to drink it, there was nowhere to escape the blazing sun, and even the light reflecting off the seawater was sucking the moisture from Queo’s body.
Being a lizardman, already sensitive to moisture, caught in a situation where everything in the ocean was tightening around its throat, all Queo could do was regret its choices and offer prayers to me.
Well, in the pouring storm, it must have drunk a little rainwater, but that would hardly be enough.
So, what should I do with this Queo?
The simplest way would be to send it back home. If I just tossed it onto the waves, it would be back in no time.
But that’s… a bit boring, don’t you think?
If it’s praying hard enough to disturb my sleep, it should at least pique my interest a little! Otherwise, what’s the point of saving its life?
And so, here we go! Welcome to the Queo-Tlan Drift!
Now, let’s decorate this little island a bit!
We need to make it just livable enough for one lizardman and provide some help while keeping an eye out!
It would be nice if Queo could spend time here and find a way to escape!
—
A lizardman swept away by the storm lost consciousness. Queo-Tlan realized it was on a strange island.
The sound of waves crashing against the sandy beach. Hills covered in grass and trees. Beyond that, the whispers of flowing water tickled its ears.
Even while not fully conscious, Queo-Tlan followed the water sound and moved forward, brushing through grass that grew up to its knees, eventually discovering a small creek.
Even its highly sensitized, dehydrated nose could tell it was clear water without a hint of salt. Pure water.
Queo-Tlan cautiously extended a hand toward the creek, and just as the cool, wet humidity was felt through its fingers…
It lost all sense and dove its snout straight into the creek.
“Puh-puhaa!”
Thus, Queo-Tlan continued to gulp the creek water in a frenzy.
Its blurred mind slowly cleared, and only then did it recall the situation it was in.
“Where am I…?”
Thanks to the clear water wetting its parched body, the surrounding details became vivid in Queo-Tlan’s eyes.
The clear creek, the grass and trees sprouting here and there, and the sandy beach visible beyond.
Queo-Tlan found itself back at the beach it had been washed away from. A dreadful lake filled with unbearable salt. The massive lake at the edge of the world was a death trap for any lizardman. Seeing the sight made Queo-Tlan shiver slightly.
How is it still alive? Did the Creator Dragon hear its desperate prayers? Did its sincere prayers reach that being?
While pondering these questions, Queo-Tlan’s gaze fell upon the shattered fragments of a boat.
Had it failed to withstand the rough waves, or had it reached its limit bringing its owner to this island?
Feeling sorrow at the sight of the broken boat, Queo-Tlan recalled its first vessel, earned with money from hunting fish after gaining independence from its parents. Though old and worn, it had remained usable thanks to regular maintenance.
That little boat, which had carried Queo-Tlan for so long, was crushed, unable to endure the tumultuous waves.
“Haah…”
Queo-Tlan let out a sigh. Without a boat, there was no way to cross that lake of death. It couldn’t swim either.
If it didn’t find another way across the lake of death… could it even go back?
Even if it tried to build a new boat, could it cross that lake with a hastily crafted one?
Queo-Tlan shook its head. If it made it through those dreadful waves and storms, a makeshift boat wouldn’t stand a chance.
Ultimately… it had no choice but to seek another way out.
—
Growl.
As Queo-Tlan was deep in thought, its stomach let out a loud growl.
Perhaps it was the relief of having escaped the threat of death, but a deep hunger was setting in.
Normally, it could last a few days without eating, but… its tail had already become unnervingly thin. Endurance would run out soon.
And so, Queo-Tlan clutched its hungry belly and stood up.
Somehow, it had to fill its stomach to survive.
—
It seemed Queo-Tlan had washed up on a not-so-big island.
Though it couldn’t climb the high mountain on one side due to a lack of stamina… after circling around the coast, it found no connections to other land.
The flora was quite rich, and with clear water flowing on the island, it seemed there wouldn’t be major issues surviving for a while.
There were also numerous fruits ready to eat, and sizable fish residing in the puddles formed by the creek.
It was strange to find such large fish in a small creek, but… who cares? It was a relief not to starve.
Thus, Queo-Tlan focused on recovering its depleting stamina by filling its belly with fruits and fish.
Having survived that hellish sea must have been for a reason.
Queo-Tlan believed that there must be a purpose behind the Creator Dragon allowing it to continue living.
Somehow, it would fight to survive.
—
Queo was faring better than expected.
It gathered food from fish and fruits, replenished its deficient moisture with clean water, and managed to survive by building a simple wooden shelter by breaking small branches or trimming them with its claws, making do however it could.
It even managed to ignite a fire with the wood treated by its claws and prepared fish… Hmm, are a lizardman’s claws some sort of universal tool? They sure are handy for various tasks.
Hmm, as long as food, water, and body temperature stabilized, there were no beastly threats on the island that could endanger its life. It shouldn’t have been a problem to survive here.
After spending several days living on the island, Queo-Tlan began to realize that there wasn’t much hope of finding another way out, now gazing towards the mountain on the island.
Hoping for something to assist in its escape from that mountain.
Of course, I had prepared something at the mountain’s summit to aid Queo’s escape… but hmm.
Whether it could convince that being was up to Queo.
—
Having checked the entire island, Queo-Tlan found nothing that could aid its escape.
It was fortunate there was clear drinking water and edible fruits or fish… but none would help it leave the island.
Plus, the fish were dwindling. It couldn’t stay here forever.
Ultimately, the solution was… finding a way to escape from the island.
It seemed there was no other choice but to venture out with a poorly made boat without proper tools.
Still, one last time, Queo-Tlan decided to climb the mountain that rose from the island.
Hoping to find something useful up there, Queo-Tlan began its ascent.
—
At the mountain’s peak lay a small spring. An endlessly clear and beautiful spring.
Entranced by the bewitchingly beautiful spring, Queo-Tlan fell in almost immediately and reached out its hand towards the spring.
At that moment, something transparent began to emerge from the spring.
An existence revealed itself in the endlessly pure, clear water.
—
Spirit of Clear Water. Spirit of Pure Water.
We shall offer you our scales. In exchange, grant us clear water.
With water as pure as your breath, cover our paths ahead.
If you accompany us on our journey, we shall go wherever fate takes us.
— Prayer of Clear Water.
A prayer from lizardmen setting out on journeys or sailing the seas.
By offering their scales, they seek blessings from the water spirit.
Through such blessings, the lizardmen can alleviate the limits of moisture sensitivity, a known weakness of their race.
It remains unknown why the water spirit seeks scales. Even the spirits themselves do not understand why they desire the scales from lizardmen.
Perhaps the spirits simply long for the scales of the lizardmen.
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