The Upper Tier, Part 4
The water had vanished.
To make this sudden reality easier to understand, let's be more precise: the stream they had been following so faithfully had suddenly seeped into the ground and disappeared.
"What do we do now?" Monia asked.
"Water naturally flows underground," Chester said, looking at a tiny trickle of water just beginning to well up from the earth. "There must be a water source somewhere. The water from there must have drained underground and emerged here."
In that case, they should be able to find the source.
"Ant can probably find it."
The moment the water had vanished into the earth, Ant was already sniffing around, tracking its scent. Though they didn't know how deep the groundwater ran, the clever Ant-wolf hadn't given up and was persistently tracking the scent, suggesting it wasn't flowing too deep underground.
But there was one problem.
"If the water isn't right next to us, we can't escape, can we?"
"Exactly."
Now that the stream was cut off, their emergency tactic—buying time with a Chili Powder Bomb and escaping on the Cushion Raft—was no longer an option.
"What do you want to do?" Chester asked Monia.
"..."
Monia looked down at Chester's leg. His injured right leg was trembling slightly, likely exhausted from pushing through the tall, stiff grass. He had done his best to hide his discomfort along the way, but his leg had to be nearing its limit.
"Let's keep going."
If this was where the stream began, there had to be a source. The mysterious water Chester was looking for—the one that accelerated plant growth and rapidly healed wounds.
If we reach the source, we'll surely find the most concentrated form of that mysterious water, right?
Besides, with Chester's leg in that condition, turning back to where the stream split and following another branch up the rugged mountain path seemed reckless.
"Let's keep going. Look, Ant has already caught the scent."
Ant had stopped sniffing a moment ago and was looking back at them.
"Whatever we're looking for, it can't be far."
It was wishful thinking, but she chose to believe it to keep her spirits up. Monia squeezed Chester's hand.
"If your leg hurts, I'll support you."
"..."
Seeing Monia stick close to his right side as she spoke, Chester offered a soft smile.
"Thanks."
Following the twitching little rump of Ant, who led the way, the two walked side by side.
After walking for some time, they found a suitable spot to rest. Beneath a towering boulder lay a reasonably flat patch of ground. They decided to call it a day, scattering a thick layer of grass to make a soft bed.
Finding a naturally formed shelter like this was always a blessing. It saved them the energy of wandering around to gather materials for a makeshift shelter.
After setting up their camp, Chester and Monia lit two campfires and placed a large log over them. The fire beneath the log spread thin, beginning to burn slowly.
"This will keep the fire burning all night, and it'll keep the beasts away."
Beasts feared fire. Of course, some were curious enough to approach it anyway. Recalling the giant monster they had seen not long ago, Chester reinforced their defenses just in case. After sharing the food they had gathered on their trek with Monia and Ant, they went to sleep.
The Island Owners had a certain custom.
To humans, it would be called a coming-of-age ritual. If successfully completed, one would be recognized as a true warrior. Those who failed were relegated to farming or raising livestock, while those who succeeded became the great warriors who managed the island.
The ritual itself was simple yet brutal: surviving alone in the Upper Tier until the thirty-first sun rose and the thirtieth sun set. If one survived unscathed until that thirty-first sunrise, they were recognized as a great warrior.
The Island Owners knew that their dominance over the island came, above all else, from the power of numbers. Of course, their other weapon was incredibly powerful as well, but compared to their numbers, it could be considered weak.
Occasionally, weaker Island Owners who couldn't endure the harshness of the Upper Tier would flee to the lower tiers...
But the young Island Owner who had come up to the Upper Tier for his warrior's ritual was more confident than anyone that he would complete it flawlessly.
After all, it was he, not the other warriors, who had recently dealt with the "strange creature that clumsily resembled them" when it climbed to the peak.
I am an elite warrior!
The chief had scolded him afterward for being reckless, but that was surely just jealousy because a mere youth had easily accomplished what the chief could not! Such was the pride that filled the young Island Owner.
But ten days after ascending to the Upper Tier, the young Island Owner experienced a brush with death.
— Grrr...!
He had carelessly wandered too close to a rhinoceros. Angered by the intrusion into its territory, the beast had charged. The sight of the rhinoceros snapping trees like twigs as it barreled toward him was pure terror.
Frozen in fear, the young Island Owner had been sent flying by the impact. Since then, he had been trembling in the Upper Tier, a deep-seated terror taking root in his heart.
It was different. The Upper Tier he had visited with the other warriors was entirely different from the Upper Tier he had to face alone. When they were in a group, the animals fled in terror. Alone, every beast seemed to eye him as prey.
The young Island Owner realized just how terrifying the Upper Tier could be. Having learned his lesson, he began to act with extreme caution, carrying the shiny object—a trophy taken from the "creature that clumsily resembled them" he had killed—like a protective amulet.
He hid his body, avoided unfamiliar things, and relied as much as possible on his "second weapon" for hunting and combat.
Then, on his fourteenth morning in the Upper Tier, the young Island Owner discovered a new pair of "creatures that clumsily resembled them."
Of course, they were quite different from the first one. Unlike that miserable creature, which had barely any meat on its bones, looked ready to die at any moment, and seemed diseased, these two were large and healthy.
Were they male and female? The young Island Owner assumed the larger one was the female and the smaller one was the male. Most creatures were like that, after all.
However, he soon realized his mistake when the one he assumed was the female shed its hide and leisurely waded into the river. Seeing a sturdy piece of flesh dangling between its legs, he realized the larger one was actually the male.
That meant the smaller one wasn't a male with fat in odd places, but simply a female, which explained her body shape.
The young Island Owner watched them, calling them "Big One" and "Little One."
He watched them catch fish. He watched them gather nearby objects to build something, then crawl underneath it to sleep. He even saw them raising and utilizing a creature different from themselves.
The more he watched, the more he realized that while they resembled his kind, there was a crucial difference.
They were incredibly weak. So weak, in fact, that it was hard to believe they shared any resemblance at all.
Perhaps they are the descendants of those who failed the warrior's ritual, vanished to the lower tier, and never returned? Did weak ancestors breed, gradually shrinking and weakening until they became like this?
Looking at the black fur of the bear-skin coat Chester wore, the young Island Owner became convinced they were related to his kind, and hypothesized as much.
— Poor things. Born so weak, life must be a constant struggle for them.
Though they looked so different despite their similarities, the young Island Owner, who had suffered greatly after his encounter with the rhinoceros, felt a pang of pity for them. He wished them luck.
With that sentiment in mind, the young Island Owner approached them for the first time on his nineteenth night.
They had created something bright and glowing, then slept behind it. Watching them, the young Island Owner tossed his trophy—the shiny amulet—at their feet, and then curiously inspected the "glowing thing" they had made.
If he had known that the glowing thing was fire, he would never have dared to approach. But ignorant of fire, the young Island Owner reached out and touched it.
— Screeech!!
Shocked by a searing heat he had never experienced in his life, he shrieked and fled.
In that moment, the young Island Owner realized: no matter how weak a creature might seem, it always possessed a deadly weapon.
"..."
The next morning, Chester woke up and stared at the object lying at his feet.
"Monia," he called out, scratching his itchy cheek. "What does this look like to you?"
Monia, who had also just woken up and was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, looked at the object Chester was pointing at.
"It looks like... a Matchlock Lighter."
"Right?"
"Yes."
"Why is this here?"
"I have no idea."
Why on earth was this lying at their feet?
"Do you think the person who lost the machete dropped this too?"
"Ah, right. There was definitely someone else here. I completely forgot." Monia picked up the Matchlock Lighter, examining it. "Do you think they left it on purpose?"
"Could be. I see what look like footprints nearby. Though whoever this is, they seem to be barefoot."
"My, what a kind soul." Monia giggled, looking at the Matchlock Lighter. "Seeing as they left this for us, they must be doing well even after losing their machete. I'd love to say hello if we ever meet."
"Yeah. A good person indeed. I hope we run into them."
Chester and Monia shared a lighthearted laugh, wondering who this 'kind stranger' who left them the Matchlock Lighter could be.