The Flow of Civilization
The next morning, Chester and Monia set out after breakfast, determined to finish the water channel. Since they had left all the construction materials at yesterday's final work site, they traveled light. Upon arriving at the spot, the two quickly resumed their labor.
With a bucket of resin, a brush, and charcoal secured at his waist, Chester climbed up into the canopy and lowered a rope. Monia tied the necessary materials to it from below. Whenever she sent up a bamboo stalk of the right size, Chester joined the pipes together, sometimes using his Claw Knife to shave down the thickness for a snug fit.
Working high up in the trees without a secure foothold while trying to align the ends of long bamboo stalks was no easy feat. Because they had to proceed with extreme caution to avoid any accidents, simply connecting a single pipe took a considerable amount of time. Once a joint was secured, Chester coated the exterior with resin, seared it with fire to seal it, and inspected it closely. If it looked good, he stepped onto a forward branch and repeated the process. After linking as many bamboo pipes as he could in this precarious fashion, he would leap to the next tree.
"Eek!" Monia gasped in terror every time Chester leaped from one branch to another. Though Chester had been moving this way since yesterday unless the gap was exceptionally wide, watching him never failed to make her heart leap into her throat. With every jump, the branches swayed violently, and Chester's body wobbled precariously. He managed to maintain his balance and stay aloft, but it was a sight that made any onlooker want to avert their eyes. Nevertheless, amid this constant anxiety, the construction of the water channel pressed on.
After a quick lunch of strawberry dough, they retrieved the remaining construction materials from the shelter and set to work once more.
"Hey, could you teach me how to climb trees too?" Monia called up to Chester, raising her voice.
"Climbing trees? Sure, why not. Trees make excellent hiding spots."
"Do they?"
"Yeah. Not many beasts can climb trees, and besides, climbing a tree just to catch a single prey is a hassle. Most predators find it too bothersome and just give up."
Even mighty lions hunted in packs to make things easier for themselves. Tigers hid in the shadows to launch surprise attacks. Every wild animal used tricks to secure food while expending as little energy as possible. Bears... well, bears just relied on their brute strength to thrash things, but even they frequently targeted helpless things that couldn't fight back, like honey or fish.
"It's always best to learn skills that help you hide and stay safe. I'll teach you once my hand heals."
"Okay."
"Since we're planning to rest and avoid the heat anyway, we'll have plenty of time."
Plenty of time. Monia and Chester both chuckled at the irony of those words. Monia, as the daughter of a Duke, had lived an exceptionally busy life, and Chester had been no different in his duties. After arriving here, they had been consumed by the frantic struggle for survival, but once they achieved a modicum of stability, time was the one thing they had in abundance. Though Chester still actively looked for chores to fill his days and Monia followed him around, they both knew they practically had time to burn.
"Is there anything else you want to try doing with all this free time?"
"Hmm, I wonder. Since we have nothing else to do, maybe I should try sculpting? Hoho, with my artistic sensibilities, I'm sure to create a masterpiece of the century!"
The two continued their work, chatting amiably. Because they had prepared everything in advance, the work proceeded without interruption, and soon, the end was in sight as the waterfall came into view.
"We're almost done."
"Wow! It's actually finishing!"
"Indeed."
It had been a long, tedious task. Even Chester, who had built their shelter with ease, had spent days just preparing before finally starting and now finishing this project. Since this was their first major construction, Monia's expectations were high. To think they could get water without having to walk all the way to the river! It feels like we're taking a step back into civilization! The moment Chester connected the final pipe, Monia cheered, throwing her arms into the air.
"Hooray!"
"Don't celebrate just yet. We have to go back to the shelter and make sure it actually works."
"Yes! Yes! Let's go, hurry!"
"S-So thirsty...!"
The man, who had come to the Floating Island following his grandfather's journal, tilted his canteen in the sweltering heat that had grown unbearable lately. But not a single drop of water came out.
"What?!"
He had clearly filled it to the brim, yet it was empty. The man opened the canteen to inspect it, and upon spotting a hole punctured in the bottom, he slammed it onto the ground in a fit of rage.
"Damn it! Nothing is going my way!"
It must have been punctured when he was attacked by a beast earlier. What on earth is wrong with this island! The man knew a lot about the Floating Island. Or rather, he had thought he did. He had read all about it in the journal left behind by his grandfather. But the truth was, he was nowhere near the caliber of explorer his grandfather had been.
His grandfather, who had ridden the wind currents across vast deserts and braved many of the world's deadly regions—including a chasm said to plunge straight into hell—had also challenged the Floating Island. Regrettably, his quest to conquer the island had been thwarted by the Island Owners, but because he had traversed the terrain with incredible speed, he had managed to escape before the rapidly shifting weather could claim him. However, a journal written from the perspective of such an extraordinarily skilled and experienced explorer was of little practical use to an ordinary man.
Creatures his grandfather deemed "hardly a threat" actively endangered the man's life, and he had nearly died after failing to distinguish between poisonous herbs and medicinal ones—plants his grandfather had claimed were "easy to tell apart." Worse, whenever he tried to leave the island, the dense, towering trees disoriented his senses, trapping him within. He had somehow managed to claw his way to the island's outer edge, but it was merely a random point on the perimeter, not the place where he had entered. He had assumed he could find his way back to his entry point by following the coast, but he was wrong. A deep chasm cutting far into the island's interior blocked his path, making it impossible to circle the perimeter.
Forced to venture back inland, the man became a target for the local fauna, which had grown highly active with the rising temperatures. His situation was entirely different from Chester's. Chester moved with extreme care, avoiding areas marked by dangerous beasts. More than that, because Chester and Monia had slaughtered so many beasts and left their own marks everywhere, their very presence had come to be perceived as the territory of an apex predator, keeping other wary beasts at bay. The man, however, lacked the eyes to detect a predator's territory or the skills to avoid them.
All he could do was use the gear he had brought to resist or flee. Fortunately, many of the island's creatures were relatively small, so the weapons he had packed for emergencies allowed him to defend himself. But while he had managed to protect his body, his belongings were a different story. While resting with his pack off, he had been ambushed by beasts and forced to abandon his luggage to escape. Now, even the canteen at his waist was ruined. His shoelaces had snapped while pushing through thick, thorny underbrush, and his frantic running and fleeing had completely destroyed his boots.
"What is wrong with this island? Why are the beasts so violent... and why is it so hot! There was nothing in the journal about it being this hot!" The man tried to consult his grandfather's journal once more, but...
"Damn it...!" Splattered with the blood of the beasts he had slain, more than half of the journal's pages were stained a dark, illegible crimson. In the end, unable to glean any help from his grandfather's writings, the man had no choice but to keep walking. Was he just walking in circles? Was he doomed to wander this forest until he died? Driven by that mounting terror, he had to keep moving. He couldn't stop. He dared not stop. His greed for the "treasure" he imagined was hidden on this island played a part, but it was the sheer, paralyzing fear of dying the moment he halted that truly kept his legs moving.
"...! Water!" Enduring the oppressive heat and parching thirst, the man spotted a puddle of water on the ground and rushed toward it.
"Ugh! It's filthy!" He recoiled in disgust upon realizing the puddle was contaminated with the dung of some unknown beast. Backing away from the foul water, he continued his aimless trek through the forest. How much longer did he walk?
"Huh?" The man suddenly stopped as a massive cliff face loomed before him. The moment he saw the cliff, a passage from his grandfather's journal flashed through his mind.
Today, I finally discovered the true reason why the Floating Island is called a deadly region.
The real trial of this island's exploration begins here, on this 'upper land' that I have climbed.
"Alright, here goes." As Chester untied the rope he had secured tightly to the tree, the line went slack. The water channel naturally tilted downward, guided by the weight of the stone tied to its end. He placed a bucket beneath the sloping end of the channel and waited. A moment later, a stream of crystal-clear water began to trickle out of the pipe.
"Whoops." Having misjudged the bucket's position and splashed his sleeve, Chester chuckled as he adjusted the container to catch the flow. Once it was full, he handed it to Monia and began filling a second bucket.
"Ooh!" "Nice. It works perfectly." Without having to make the tedious trek to the river, the two clinked their buckets of fresh, clean river water together in a joyful toast.