Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: The Wounded Lizardman
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The wounded young Lizardman was following at the rear of the herd.
His shoulder wound from the saber-tooth tiger a short while ago showed no signs of healing. It was due to malnutrition. Every step aggravated the injury, and with his stamina drained, his pace was slow.
The herd, numbering just over thirty, traversed the wasteland, scraping by on the occasional bird or stray beast they spotted. Those too weak to join the hunts were given nothing but bones stripped of every scrap of meat.
The wounded Lizardman considered it only natural.
Those who succeeded in the hunt deserved more meat. That was obvious.
Those who couldn't hunt should be grateful for whatever scraps were left behind.
The herd could have abandoned the weak and the sick to lighten their load, but so far, they hadn't.
It wasn't out of simple compassion.
A few in the herd felt indebted to this particular Lizardman—the young one who had recently earned the name Rakrak, meaning "the wounded one."
When the saber-tooth tiger had appeared not long ago and everyone else had turned tail and fled, he alone had stood his ground.
Thanks to him, the herd had escaped unscathed—aside from Rakrak's wound.
Without Rakrak, many would have died or been injured. In the worst case, the herd might have been completely wiped out.
They had already been cast out from a larger group precisely because they were sickly, old, or weak—protected only because of their frailty.
Without Rakrak, survival would have been impossible for most.
But Rakrak had outlived everyone's expectations by far too long.
Some were beginning to begrudge even the marrow from the bones they gave him.
When they luckily stumbled upon a termite mound, the herd devoured the termites at will, but it was only then that Rakrak, with his deft hands, could fill his belly with proper food.
A few wouldn't say it outright, but they found it outrageous.
It would have been better if Rakrak had held off the tiger and died in the process. Then they could have buried him and moved on.
But this herd knew all too well what it meant to be abandoned by others, so they matched their pace to Rakrak's sluggish steps.
Rakrak himself sometimes thought it might have been better if he'd died back then.
He hated himself for becoming a burden on everyone.
The wasteland was too vast, and food too scarce.
Not everyone could survive. The weak being culled was only natural.
Yet strangely, Rakrak's steps never halted. Even when he thought this might be his last, strength would well up from somewhere for the next one.
'What's that?'
Rakrak's fading vision caught something on a small hill in the wasteland.
The herd up front, heads bowed in exhaustion, had missed it, but there was a black mist-like shape on the hilltop. It appeared briefly before vanishing beyond.
'A hallucination from my delirium?'
But he could faintly hear a buzzing sound. Rakrak had sharp ears, too.
He glanced between the herd and the black mist on the hill, then decided to climb it.
It sounded absurd, but he trusted his hunch.
A few in the herd spotted Rakrak ascending and paused.
They wondered if he was deserting the group.
In the end, the entire herd stopped to watch Rakrak.
Some said they should just leave him. Others insisted they couldn't.
As they murmured among themselves, Rakrak shouted something from the hilltop.
What Rakrak had found was a swarm of beetles.
Beetles might disgust other races, but to Lizardmen, they were snacks—and in sufficient numbers, a full meal.
This swarm wasn't mating or fleeing; they stayed clustered in a small area, not shying away from Rakrak or the other Lizardmen's hands.
As if they'd all decided to become obedient food. It was astonishing.
That day, the Lizardmen feasted to their hearts' content.
And with his belly full, Rakrak spent the remaining time pondering how such a thing could happen.
Choi Seong-un breathed a sigh of relief as he looked at the status window floating before him.
Just as Aldin had said, the interface was identical to that of the game Lost World.
The Subdomain: Insects allowed him to control or create insects by expending Faith.
Of course, this control and creation differed from the game.
In the game, he was limited to choosing from a handful of system-provided options. Here on this planet, however, Seong-un could exercise precise control according to his own will.
'Though such fine control doesn't seem meaningful just yet.'
Lost World featured various races, each with their strengths and weaknesses.
Humans were naturally the most popular, but they had low resistance to parasites and diseases, were picky eaters, and their physical abilities were subpar. They became viable in the mid-game and beyond, but they weren't what Lost World gamers recommended as a starting race.
There were no human tribes in Seong-un's region anyway.
'I'll probably want to absorb them around mid-game for their dexterity trait.'
In contrast, Lizardmen reproduced quickly and grew fast.
Orcs shared similar advantages, but Lizardmen were more numerous in Seong-un's area.
Seong-un moved on to the next phase of his plan.
'After recognizing the miracle, they'll notice the Divinity next.'
He decided to call the Lizardman tribe "Rakrak's Tribe" for now.
Even in Lost World, certain sensitive individuals picked up on miracles. It seemed the same here.
Rakrak would likely become an important figure for Seong-un.
'And I'll become an important existence for Rakrak, too.'
Seong-un repeatedly invoked the miracle of summoning beetle swarms around the Lizardman tribe.
Whenever hunger struck, a swarm would appear, and without fail, Rakrak would spot it and lead the herd to it.
This clan had no formal leader before, but before long, Rakrak had begun guiding them.
'Not much different from playing the game.'
Intelligent beings recognize miracles as extraordinary events.
When miracles repeat, they infer an entity behind them.
They come to understand a necessary existence, not a coincidental one.
Seong-un chuckled at the part about "Beetle God."
'Well, no one starts with a grand name.'
Just as intelligent beings develop their civilizations and technologies, a god's name evolves too.
They had progressed from miracles to recognizing Divinity.
But that alone wasn't enough.
'To gain Faith, simply recognizing miracles and Divinity isn't sufficient.'
Still, he had no worries.
If things went according to plan, the next miracle would yield what he wanted.
Rakrak spotted another beetle swarm.
Thanks to the continuous feasts over the past few days, his shoulder wound was improving.
Moreover, the herd had come to rely on Rakrak's keen eyes and ears to easily find the swarms.
Even some Lizardmen who had spoken harshly to him before came to apologize.
Rakrak accepted their reconciliation but insisted it was mere luck.
A few Lizardmen felt ashamed at his attitude and reflected on themselves. They had the potential to become a better herd someday.
Separately, Rakrak harbored suspicions about these mysterious beetle swarms.
The Lizardmen had lost their ancient civilization long ago, and few tales remained after so much time.
But one story held that the gods they once relied on had departed because an unstoppable evil had rampaged—even the gods couldn't halt it.
That evil still lingered, occasionally appearing before tribes to tempt them toward ruin.
'Though it's just the ramblings of outcast wanderers.'
Wanderers had no power and were often storytellers fabricating tales to beg for scraps.
But now, it seemed to Rakrak that the "Nameless Beetle God" creating these swarms was leading them somewhere.
And the direction was north.
Winter would arrive soon.
Lizardmen could survive winter, but the blood of their cold-blooded ancestors still affected them.
Their bodies grew sluggish in the cold.
With food scarce in winter, they'd only be active during sunlit days—and many would starve.
At the very least, they needed to find a forest with ample firewood to warm themselves while crossing the wasteland.
Originally, Rakrak's herd had been heading south.
But the beetle swarms were guiding them north.
They'd benefited greatly so far, but from a broader view, it could be a trap.
'Winter's still a ways off. We can follow this next swarm and head south after.'
With that thought, Rakrak approached the swarm before him.
But something was off.
This swarm didn't draw nearer no matter how close he got.
Rakrak quickly realized the beetles were moving away.
'Nameless Beetle God... where are you leading us?'
Impatient Lizardmen charged ahead, but the swarm only retreated faster.
Rakrak called a meeting to decide: follow the swarm or abandon it and head south.
Nearly everyone, except the skeptical Rakrak, voted to follow.
Even if it was a trap, Rakrak resolved to share the herd's fate.
Rakrak's Tribe marched for two full days without rest, even through the night.
Rakrak carried the youngest Lizardman on his back and took the lead.
The beetle swarm crossed the wasteland and began ascending a small rise.
Sparse vegetation appeared, puzzling Rakrak.
The parched wasteland grew almost no grass.
But atop the hill lay a vast spring.
Bushes and trees clustered around it, and behind the hill, water from the spring cascaded into a small waterfall and stream.
A tiny rabbit between the trees spotted the unfamiliar race and fled.
The beetle swarm circled Rakrak as if their task was complete.
Rakrak picked up one beetle and turned to the herd, who had just crested the hill in awe.
"The Nameless Beetle God has guided us to a sanctuary!"
Cheers of joy erupted from the herd.