Beast-Making Water (4)
After that endlessly hot night had passed, Chester and Monia woke in the morning unable to look each other in the face.
Only after they had cleaned away every last trace of the pure-white blaze of the night before could the two of them finally settle their hearts and meet each other’s eyes.
“Th-that is…”
“I, um…”
They both tried to speak at once, their words colliding, and both fell silent again.
While they sat with their mouths shut, reading each other’s faces, their eyes fell on the moss bed—torn and ruined in every direction from being clawed and gripped.
They threw out the wrecked moss bed and replaced it with another they had prepared in advance.
After they had finished that bit of work and faced each other once more, they opened their mouths again.
“…….”
“…….”
They nearly spoke over each other a second time, closed their mouths, and then Chester held out a hand toward Monia in a clear invitation for her to go first.
Receiving the gesture, Monia nodded and spoke.
“Chester… you’re a beast.”
“I’m sorry…!”
The instant those words left her, Chester bowed his head deeply and apologized with raw sincerity.
Watching him, Monia let out a playful little laugh, pulled his lowered head against her chest, and stroked his hair as she said,
“It’s all right. I liked it too.”
“…….”
Quietly nestled against her, feeling the gentle pats on his head, Chester wrapped his arms firmly around her in return.
“I’m really sorry. Next time…”
Next time.
The moment the words left him, both their faces flushed crimson. At the same time the long, scorching night before rose vividly in their minds.
“Nnh.”
“Ahem.”
Chester cleared his throat, lifted his head, and looked straight at Monia.
“Next time I’ll be gentler.”
Still embarrassed, Monia smiled and buried her face against his chest instead.
“Mm. I’ll be waiting whenever.”
“……Yeah.”
They held each other tightly like that when sounds drifted in from outside.
- My head hurts!!
- Ugh! Who threw up on me!
- What the hell is this tree?
The People of the Summit, who had raised hell the night before and then collapsed one after another as if knocked out cold, only opened their eyes once the sun had climbed past the peak of the sky and begun its descent.
- …….
The Little Elder pressed hard at his throbbing temples as he surveyed the devastation around them.
Dozens upon dozens of the trees that had stood thick and lush nearby had been smashed to splinters, and the place Chester and Monia called their “field” had been reduced to a wreck.
Ant lay collapsed from sheer exhaustion after being tormented all night by drunken Summit folk, and boulders—dragged from who knew where during their brawls—were embedded everywhere.
These were stones hurled with the strength of the People of the Summit. They had not simply come to rest; they had torn up the surrounding earth and driven themselves deep into the ground.
One of the places a boulder had punched into was the workshop where Chester had built his kiln.
“…….”
Chester, who had gone inside the house the night before and never seen the chaos outside, nearly toppled backward the moment he stepped out and took in the ruin.
Monia was clinging to the limp, unmoving Ant and wailing, while Chester somehow managed a few deep breaths, steadied himself, and sat down in front of the Little Elder.
- …….
- …….
- …….
The moment Chester settled before them, every member of the Head Faction, led by the Little Elder, averted their eyes.
They were finished.
They had come only to size the pair up, yet the food had excited them so much that they had guzzled far too much Beast-making Water and caused a spectacular disaster.
They had utterly demolished the other party’s territory. No apology in the world could cover a mess this thorough.
- We are sorry. There are no words!
- Sorry.
- We are sorry.
When the Head Faction bowed their heads, the Warrior Faction and Black Wind—who had been watching for cues—dropped into deep bows as well.
- Who made the biggest mess.
- You.
- No, you.
- At least not me.
As the Warrior Faction began arguing, trying to shove the blame onto one another, the Little Elder ground his teeth.
- Shut up and apologize!!
At the Little Elder’s low, thick growl, the Warrior Faction flattened themselves on the ground once more.
An angry Little Elder was terrifying.
Ordinarily he did not stand on ceremony, so they joked with him and treated him as a friend; yet his authority sat just below that of the Chieftain, the Great Elder, and the Great Warrior.
With every last one of them having committed a massive blunder, crossing him now was not a wise choice.
Damn it. I have no idea how to fix this.
The Little Elder cursed the self who had been completely swallowed by the Beast-making Water the night before.
After the way we rampaged, the creatures around here have almost certainly fled.
When a living thing faces a threat too vast to resist, it flees the spot.
To the beasts of the lower levels, drunken People of the Summit had been no different from an earthquake or a storm—something to run from.
That was the real problem.
Even if Chester still had preserved food, hunting in this area was going to be difficult for some time to come.
To the People of the Summit, the hunt was a sacred rite, a culture, their history itself.
Having hindered the hunt of people who might yet become friends, they owed a fitting recompense.
The Little Elder and every other Summit person present took the loss of hunting more seriously than anything else.
- Forgive us, but may we speak among ourselves a moment?
- All right. Go ahead.
Chester’s face was equally troubled.
Rebuilding the field was no great issue. The wreckage still existed; once they gathered it up they could repair it quickly. The crops grew fast once planted, so that was fine.
With this much racket, hunting around here will be impossible for a while. Do we have to cross the river?
That was a problem, yet the preserved food he had obsessively stockpiled filled several storehouses. They could hold out until the area settled and the animals returned.
The real catastrophe was this.
The kiln…
“Um, Chester.”
While Chester was grinding his teeth over the ruined kiln, Monia approached carefully and spoke.
“With a shock this big I thought… just in case… so I checked the chili-powder bombs.”
“Don’t tell me.”
His expression turned uneasy; Monia nodded.
“More than half of what we made is broken.”
“Ghk…!”
This time he truly nearly fell over backward. He had somehow held himself together when he first saw the devastation, but the news that the chili-powder bombs they had labored so hard to craft were smashed sent his blood pressure soaring in an instant.
“W-well, because we wrapped them in leaves to cushion the impact, some of them seem to have survived.”
“Do you know how long it takes to make just one of those!”
At the cry that sounded ready to dissolve into wailing, Monia pressed her lips tight.
She had made them herself; she knew exactly how difficult chili-powder bombs were. When she first saw the broken ones she had thought she must be dreaming.
How much time and effort had they poured into those things!
While Chester and Monia trembled as they tallied the damage, the People of the Summit were reaching a rough conclusion among themselves.
- That would be best, would it not?
- They are weak, and we have put them in a hard place.
- So we go that way?
- But first there is something important.
Black Wind was thoroughly pleased that his friend Chester had received such high praise.
Heh heh, my eye was never wrong. While these fools wasted time investigating, I took one look at Chester and decided on the spot to become friends! Excellent! I am the one fit to be chieftain!
Black Wind, who had once dreamed of becoming the Great Warrior, was already casting his ambitions toward the chieftain’s seat itself.
For the record, the fact that he himself had spent a long while secretly trailing Chester and Monia, observing them, and only then approaching with caution had already vanished clean from Black Wind’s memory.
The Little Elder roughly guessed what was going through the mind of Black Wind, who stood with his chest puffed out and snorting through his nose; he gave a short snort of laughter himself and walked over to Chester and Monia.
- Before we apologize, I wish to ask this. Chester. And Monia.
The Little Elder pointed at the two of them and spoke.
- Before the next question, let me say this: we like you.
- What’s this all of a sudden?
- You are clever and wise. And you are brave and great. You hold knowledge and wisdom enough to make an Elder’s head marvel, and you are warriors fine enough for a Great Warrior to acknowledge.
Next the Little Elder looked at Monia.
- And even though there was no need, you spent long labor for our sake and taught us the greatness and joy of a new culture called “cooking.” Your hearts are kind.
Monia could not fully understand the Little Elder’s words, but the feeling that she was being praised made her glance repeatedly at Chester.
“Um, I think he’s complimenting me—what should I say?”
“Just a moment.”
- We like you.
The Little Elder held out a hand toward Chester.
- Will you become family with us?
- ……We like you too.
Chester answered, looking one by one at every Summit person watching them.
They had drunk and caused a huge mess, but if one started counting that way, people who never caused trouble when they drank were rare.
- If we can become one family with you, it would be an honor.
At the same time, Chester had grown up hearing stories of how his own father had traveled the world, forming ties with every tribe he met and becoming friend or family to them; the Little Elder’s proposal did not greatly startle him.
He had even vaguely thought that if they grew close enough, they might one day be taken in as family.
- Chester, Monia. Every member of our family lives under the Grace of the Summit. So before we apologize, I ask: do you intend to move your home to the Summit?
Chester and Monia looked at each other. When Chester relayed the Little Elder’s words, Monia shook her head.
This island was a good place.
Yet inside Monia the desire to leave the island and take her revenge had not vanished.
Chester, too, had never planned to live out his entire life on this island.
Someday they would leave this place, raid the secret vault of the ducal house Monia had spoken of, and with that money build a home and a foundation for the two of them and live happily.
They had never spoken the plan aloud, yet it had formed naturally inside both of them.
So Chester answered.
- We have no intention of leaving this place.
Because someday they would leave the island.
The Little Elder nodded as if he had expected exactly that, and said,
- Therefore, Chester, I will now say what I meant to say. As a token of apology, we wish to move a portion of the Grace of the Summit here for you.