Ant-wolf, Part II
Chester and Monia always crossed the river at one specific spot. It was the shallowest point, where the water only came up to their waists. Chester had tied a rope from a tree on this bank to one on the other side. Holding onto that lifeline, they made their way across.
But the recent rains had swollen the river, raising the water level from their waists to their chests. The current had grown much fiercer, making the crossing a treacherous ordeal. The riverbed beneath their feet was incredibly slick.
"Whoa!" Monia slipped and nearly went under, but she clung to the rope with desperate strength. Chester had warned her multiple times that being swept away by this current meant certain death, so she refused to let go under any circumstances.
While she held fast, Chester waded over and pulled her back to her feet. Together, they resumed their slow trek across. Normally, a simple crossing wouldn't drain them like this, but the miserable weather and the raging river turned it into a grueling battle.
Somehow, they managed to reach the other side. Collapsing onto the bank, they sat in silence to catch their breath and recover their strength. They built a small campfire to dry their clothes and warm their shivering bodies.
"The weather has been so awful lately," Monia grumbled. "Why couldn't it just get cooler without all this rain?"
"Damned island," Chester muttered.
"Seriously. Tell me about it."
After a brief rest and some light bickering, they set off again. Since the temperature had dropped, the crocodiles had vanished, allowing them to walk along the opposite bank with far more peace of mind than before.
The forest was drenched. Every single leaf and blade of grass they brushed against was heavy with raindrops, showering them with cold moisture at every step. Chester's trousers and vest, along with Monia's dress, were soon soaked all over again, clinging damply to their skin and rendering their fireside drying session entirely pointless.
Monia peeled the wet fabric of her dress away from her legs as she walked, trying to keep it from wrapping around her knees and tripping her. Fortunately, Chester was walking ahead of her, taking the brunt of the wet foliage, which made her journey slightly more bearable.
Chester wasn't just walking; he had to forge a path through the thick, water-logged undergrowth. Fortunately, the machete they had so luckily acquired proved its worth here. With a casual swing, the heavy blade sliced through the stubborn weeds, carving out a path.
By clearing the brush with the machete, they could stride forward comfortably, conserving their energy in the otherwise impenetrable forest.
Monia, who hadn't seen Chester use the machete much until now, watched him in silence before speaking up. "You're really good with that."
"My father taught me how to handle all kinds of tools," Chester replied. "Though my weapon of choice is still a dagger."
What is it with his obsession with daggers? Monia wondered. Even after they had crafted the claw knife, Chester would still occasionally sigh and wish for a proper, high-quality blade.
Hmm. Once we get off this island and I raid my secret vault, maybe I'll buy him a really nice knife! Hehehe. He'll definitely kneel before me in tears of gratitude! Monia grinned as she pictured Chester kneeling at her feet.
But the image quickly lost its charm, and she shook her head to dismiss it. No, that doesn't suit him at all.
For some reason, Monia hated the thought of Chester kneeling or groveling to anyone. It was a feeling akin to a child thinking, My dad is the strongest! He's the coolest person in the world!
Having only recently begun to rebuild her shattered identity, Monia's emotional maturity was still lagging behind her actual age. Consequently, Chester, the sole pillar of her survival, loomed incredibly large in her mind.
While she was lost in thought, they arrived at the bamboo grove.
"Alright, I'm going to teach you how to use a machete now," Chester said.
"Huh?"
The moment they arrived, Chester twirled the machete to catch her attention, then took a stance in front of a thick stalk of bamboo. "A time might come when you need to use this instead of me. It's better to learn now. Watch closely. Unlike the crude tools we made, this is a real weapon. If you handle it wrong, you'll hurt yourself."
With those words, Chester moved the machete in a slow, deliberate arc so Monia could follow the trajectory. "You swing it like this. Got it?"
"Yes."
As soon as Monia nodded, Chester's arm blurred. To her utter amazement, the notoriously tough bamboo stalk was severed in a single, clean stroke, groaning as it began to topple.
"...!"
"See? That's the power of civilization for you."
"The power of civilization...!" Monia trembled with sheer awe. Bamboo! That rock-hard bamboo! Cut down so effortlessly! Ah! No wonder Chester was always whining about wanting a good knife! And to think humans could actually forge such incredible things! Blacksmiths are amazing! Overwhelmed by a wave of profound shock and admiration, Monia threw herself into learning how to handle the machete.
"Is this a tool of the gods?!" Monia gasped, practically vibrating with excitement after feeling the blade's terrifying efficiency firsthand.
Granted, she had only targeted a thin stalk that was less than half the thickness of the one Chester had cut, but still—it took only one swing! The bamboo had severed in a single blow!
The reason Monia could yield such immediate results was due to the nature of the tool itself. A machete didn't require complex, highly refined martial techniques; it was, at its core, a utility tool. Designed for rough, heavy-duty work, anyone could use it effectively once they grasped the basic safety precautions to avoid cutting off their own limbs.
As long as one had the strength to swing it, the combination of momentum, the blade's weight, and its sharp edge could easily slice through bamboo, thick slabs of meat, and even dense bone.
Of course, because it was much thicker and heavier than a standard knife, swinging it was incredibly exhausting.
"I'm... exhausted." After only a few swings, Monia's limbs began to tremble violently, and she sank to the ground.
"Take a break," Chester said. "You'll need your strength to help carry the bamboo back."
"Okay. I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about."
Monia found a flat rock of decent height and sat down to rest. As she caught her breath, she watched Chester effortlessly fell stalk after stalk. Thick bamboo that Monia couldn't dream of cutting even with the machete fell in a single stroke when Chester swung.
She stared at his thick forearms and the firm grip of his hand on the hilt. The sharp definition of his muscles and veins exuded a raw, primal power. With a fluid, powerful arc, his arm moved, and another bamboo stalk crashed down.
"This machete is even better than I thought," Chester muttered appreciatively. "We'll have the storehouse finished in no time at this rate." He continued to chop, chop, and chop, felling the bamboo with tireless precision. He looked like an unstoppable warrior.
He really is incredible. His grip strength was immense—enough to tear his own palms when he had climbed the cliff. He could scale trees that Monia couldn't even dream of climbing as if he were taking a casual stroll. When it came to crafting tools or hunting, his skills were so far beyond hers that she couldn't even begin to compare.
But above all, his stamina was what truly baffled her. His body wasn't made of steel, yet since they had arrived on the Floating Island, she had rarely seen him look tired. Maybe once or twice? Like when they had scaled the cliff with inadequate gear to build the water channel, or when they had marched for hours through the suffocating heat, hacking away at the stubborn brush. Only under such extreme conditions did Chester ever show signs of fatigue.
Is he really the same species as me? Monia often found herself wondering as she watched him. He seemed far too capable to be a regular human.
Could I ever become like that? She thought about this a lot, too. But since she had no idea how to even begin matching his level, the thought always remained a fleeting wish.
Chester was always warning her about how dangerous the wild beasts were, but... Honestly, is there really any difference between Chester and a wild beast? Watching him hunt and devour all kinds of creatures despite his warnings made her wonder. Who was the real danger here? Perhaps he meant he was the danger to the wildlife.
Once Chester finished felling the bamboo, Monia, who had recovered her strength, joined him to prep the wood. They trimmed the branches, cut the stalks to the proper lengths, and bound them with rope. Having done this many times before, their movements were highly practiced and efficient.
At this point, if she were to tell anyone she was a highborn lady, no one would believe her—aside from her striking beauty. What noble lady in the world could perform manual labor with such practiced ease?
Monia was even humming a tune. Compared to digging up hard earth, tilling soil, and hauling heavy rocks in the sweltering heat, this kind of work was a walk in the park.
Once the bamboo was bundled, they headed back to their shelter. Dragging the heavy bundles across the swollen river was a bit of a struggle, but they managed to make it back without any major incidents.
"Alright, give it a shot!"
"Okay, okay!"
"I tied the safety rope tight, so it's fine even if you fall!"
"Could you maybe wish for me not to fall?!" Monia grumbled at Chester's less-than-reassuring encouragement as she scrambled up the tree.
Climbing higher than the skeletal frame of the roof, she began laying down the large leaves Chester passed up to her, weaving them into the rafters.
Working from the bottom up, she meticulously tucked each leaf into place. It was nerve-wracking work. Balancing precariously on the branches and the newly built frame of the storehouse required her full concentration. Even though she knew the safety rope would catch her, the fear of falling was hard to shake.
Yet, Monia didn't stop. Until now, Chester had always handled the high-altitude work himself, but today he had trusted her with it. She wanted to do a good job. But above all... If I finish this, he'll give me honey!
Monia worked with furious determination, and after a long, grueling effort, the roof was finally complete. In return, she was rewarded with a bite-sized piece of honeycomb—her first in a very long time.
"Wow! Honey!"
"Is it really that good?"
"Yes!"
Watching Monia chew on the honeycomb with a blissful, radiant smile, Chester chuckled. He reached out and gently wiped a smudge of dirt from her cheek. "You've got dirt on your face."
Monia stood still, happily chewing her sweet treat as she let him clean her cheek.
"Alright," Chester said, pulling his hand back. "Starting tomorrow, we gather firewood."
"Okay! I'll do my best!"