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ResetA thunderstorm that felt like a beating.
Amidst the thick, lush subtropical forest, several figures ran with splashes and thuds.
Occasionally lightning would flash, illuminating their frantic cries as they raced on relentlessly.
Their tattered clothes and often visible red stains marked them as survivors.
Suddenly, directly ahead of them, their view opened up to a shallow river.
It wasn't always a river; during the dry season it was merely a path for people to traverse.
The men spat and turned back to look behind them.
There, lightning flashed repeatedly. As if slowly cornering them.
Without hesitation, the men stepped into the swift-flowing but shallow water of the river.
“Been waiting for you.”
Before the men could cross, five figures rose from the water with a slight sway.
They stopped their advance and braced themselves through the veil of rain at the sight of these monstrous humanoid enemies with crimson eyes in the twilight.
“Shit.”
“Lizardmen!!”
The surviving men staggered in the swift current, each drawing his weapon. Broadswords, short swords, winged spears.
Their equipment was typical for a light infantry unit: broadswords, short swords, and winged spears suited to this region where soldiers rarely wore armor due to poor footing conditions.
But.
“Is that all you could bring? Poor things.”
The lizardmen mockingly brandish their weapons: great axes, chain balls, or two tomahawks each. The defeated men hold their breath in awe.
Even without armor, the scales of the rain-soaked lizardmen repel any unskilled attacks and send them bouncing off harmlessly. Their heavy weapons are capable of crushing an opponent’s defenses before they can even employ fine techniques like sword-and-shield defense.
And for these lizardmen with thick tails and low centers of gravity, this flowing water is as good as flat ground. There was no way to escape.
The men were hopelessly outmatched.
“Still, compared to fighting Overnite, a few lizards are nothing!”
The men try to rouse their spirits.
And he fearlessly leaped at the lizardmen before him.
Lizardmen are renowned for their stability and strength in swampy terrain. Fishmen mermen find it difficult to move in shallow waters, while human types struggle with unstable footing. In such conditions, a lizardman’s awkwardly low stance and powerful tail become formidable weapons.
The existence of transparent inner eyelids that prevent any spray from obstructing vision also contributes to their combat effectiveness.
But...
“Nice work... you damn thieves!!”
“Chit! Don’t get all high-and-mighty, you merchant scum!!”
Before they knew it, the two were facing off one-on-one. Most of the defeated—no, the thieves—had been no match for the lizardmen, but there was one exception: a man wielding a winged halberd who had known how to exploit the lizardman’s weakness in their stomachs with precise and sharp strikes.
Once they had driven down the odds from five-to-two, the lizardmen fell one by one as pierced by the winged halberd. In the end, only Gash Zapper, wielding twin tomahawks, remained standing amidst the carnage.
Gash had survived due to his exceptional defensive skills, which were rare for a wielder of heavy weapons. However, the thief with the winged spear should also be exhausted from jumping and fighting over water like a dragonfly. Gash threw an axe at him to prevent him from regaining strength.
“Tch!!”
The thief dodged by throwing himself into the water instead of blocking it with his weapon.
A tomahawk that exploded on the river surface.
But immediately, Gash pulled back his tomahawk. His twin tomahawks were connected by a strong and thin rope called "silk cord," which is said to be a dragon's treasure. In this rain, it might look like he was pulling them back with magic.
And then Gash used both of his tomahawks as shields to deflect the spear attacks from the thief. It seemed that the power of the lizardman’s strength and forged tomahawk could not break through, which was a relief for Gash.
The cycle repeated itself.
The thief knew he would be caught if he ran away on foot. Gash wouldn’t let him escape at any cost, as it would tarnish his pride in being part of the national army.
Time flowed endlessly over this battlefield where only two people were locked in combat.
There, a sign of reinforcements arriving could be seen.
A bolt of lightning was approaching.
“Hah, time to pay your taxes, you damned bandits!”
“...I wonder.”
The bandit grinned with his dirty face.
From the confidence that came from seeing the approaching reinforcements, or rather, the carelessness born from it, Gash decided he was just bluffing.
Gash took out his trump card and aimed to strip away this false bravado.
“At least die easily!”
With all his might, he threw both tomahawks at once.
“Hahaha!!”
The man arched his body to dodge the axe… and was pushed back by a thin "silk chain" between them.
Gash charged forward. His last weapon was a sweeping tail strike, honed in tribal martial arts, capable of snapping thick tree trunks.
Just as he prepared to deliver it, however, a fist-sized rock flew at him from the rain.
“!!”
Unable to resist the urge, Gash slowed his momentum and caught the stone with his hand.
From beyond the rain, one of the thieves he thought had been defeated emerged on shore, throwing rocks at them using a makeshift sling made from his belt.
Before Gash could even think about it, the thief in front of him quickly stood up and raised his wing-blade spear out of the water.
“!!”
Gash’s tail was sliced off with a zakiri sound.
The blade entered through his soft underbelly side, leaving only skin hanging loosely.
“Guh... Aaahh!?”
Even though it was a tail, it was still a blood-filled organ. Gushing out large amounts of blood, Gasht fell to the ground.
"...I won, lizard."
The thief with the winged blade spear stood up and grinned.
Gasht pounded the riverbed with his fist. A real lizard could probably run around without any problem even if they lost their tail, but a Lizardman’s tail had developed too much for that to be possible. The pain was making him lose consciousness. He also no longer had any weapons left.
He had already lost when he let his guard down.
“Ku... damn it... oh.”
Waiting for the finishing blow...
...but it never came.
"...?"
I raised my head. The winged spear thief was nowhere to be seen.
All around me were the corpses of fallen comrades and a torrential rain.
The thief had concluded that Gash could not track him, and ran off with his surviving companions.
“…Damn it… damn it!!”
Severe pain.
Blood loss.
Humiliation.
Gash screamed these scalding bitter emotions as they faded from consciousness.
“Damn youuuuuuuuuu!!!”
And then he fell to the riverbed.
Even lizardmen lose their ability to stop bleeding underwater. Though he knew it could cost him his life, the sheer humiliation had made him reckless.
◇◇◇
A rainbow appeared against the backdrop of dawn.
During the rainy season, there were times when a thick and beautiful rainbow would appear as the rain stopped.
According to lizardman lore, this seven-colored phenomenon was the afterimage and flight path left behind by Origin Dragon, who had created their race in ancient times.
It was said that the Origin Dragon loved its creation, the lizardmen. Even after death, it became a spirit and offered them passage to paradise along with a kiss at the time of their demise.
"...A welcome...?"
Gash muttered as he looked up at the rainbow.
He thought it was fine. Lizardman soldier Gash Zapper had died in battle against a formidable enemy.
The easiest thing would have been to think that he was dead after that blow.
But a mocking laugh shattered Gash's comfortable delusion.
“Hah, you mean the one about lizards riding rainbows into paradise? Don’t make me imagine it, it’s disgusting.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Gash couldn't help but open his eyes wide and lift his head.
He was a soldier after all. Compared to lizardmen who had been cooped up in colonies their whole lives, Gash thought he wasn’t particularly prejudiced against other races. But that didn’t mean he got turned on by them either. He liked scales and color gradients on skin, and preferred faces that looked more reptilian.
That was how it used to be.
But now, seeing the naked body of a girl who seemed human, sitting sideways across his lap and ruffling her hair... he couldn't suppress the sudden surge of arousal.
“…Wow, you’re hard.”
“!?”
A girl who speaks as if a bug had moved, without any hint of sensuality. Gash suddenly realized that one half of his hemipenis was inside the girl.
“Wh-what are you doing!?”
“It’s an emergency rescue… Oh my god, it’s still growing!? It’s getting so big!”
“Wait a minute—”
Gash is confused. He had never felt aroused by a human before, and he certainly hadn’t expected to be having sex at this moment. Moreover, he should have been near death but somehow felt surprisingly energetic, which was completely unexpected.
This guy was used to dealing with inconvenient surprises, but the opposite was entirely new territory for him.
“Whatever, just let me do it!!”
And as a result of his confusion, he decided to go purely on instinct. Since he had already given up thinking rationally after assuming he was going to die anyway, this seemed like the only sensible option now.
“What? What?”
The girl was flustered by the rapid erection of her hemipenes, but she hadn’t expected Gash to suddenly go crazy and demand sex as soon as he woke up.
He grabbed her hips and arms and started thrusting one of his swollen dual penises in and out. It was a brutal forced mount position.
“Ow...! W-wait, this is...!? ”
“You’re the one who suddenly decided to suck on someone else’s dick! What gives you that right?!”
“S-stop it...! Th-this isn’t r-right...!!”
The girl slapped Gash across the face with her free hand.
But he didn’t seem to notice, and continued thrusting his hips wildly. As a lizardman, he was able to maintain balance using both legs and his tail, making him skilled at thrusting.
At some point she realized that this wasn’t heaven and that battle hadn’t been a dream.
She had been slapping Gash’s face but eventually gave up—more likely because she started enjoying it—and stopped.
“Y-you...! You ungrateful lizard...!!”
“Hah, hah… I don’t care if you know or not, you slutty bitch, doing something perverted while someone’s slowly dying like this is just disrespectful…!!”
“…Y-You better do seppuku later on…!!”
“I said I don’t care!! Ahh, your pussy feels so good!!”
Gash was practically raping her now, mercilessly rubbing his penis against the squirming girl’s vagina.
He had mated with a few lizard women before, but this felt completely different.
His instincts were telling him to spill his seed inside her. To make her lay eggs deep within her womb.
To make her bear and break open his fertilized eggs.
Pre-cum started leaking from the exposed penis, and Gash pounded it against her belly while thrusting furiously with the other one until he finally came.
“Kuh, ohhhhhh!!”
“Nngh… Ahh, wait a sec… this is tight… hah…!!”
I spurted my cum into her pussy and stomach at the same time.
Inside her womb, on her belly, navel, breasts, nipples, chin, collarbone—
An amount of sticky semen that even surprised me gushed out.
“Y-You idiot... My stomach’s gonna burst...!!”
The girl was in agony as she sweated profusely.
Her womb was being penetrated by a penis larger than expected and doused with an unimaginable quantity of viscous cum, causing her belly to swell strangely around the shaft.
“Haa… Haa… You humans are so good at this…!!”
Gash still had no intention of stopping; he thought himself dead and didn’t need to think about anything else—or rather, he just didn’t want to think about it.
But finally, the girl punched him.
“I’m not human!! I’m a spirit, a water spirit!!”
“...Huh?”
There’s an old legend that circulates in the marshlands.
Somewhere within this region, there is a spirit of water. Its power can sometimes surpass even dragons and be described as nature itself. People must respect its strength and be grateful for their lives, or else this place would become like the northern Russell Desert—a barren wasteland inhabited only by desert lizards and monsters.
“Why’s that water spirit having sex with a lizardman? You idiot.”
“What kind of thing are you saying after I just saved her!? ”
The naked girl released from Gash’s groin was fuming.
“It’s simply because it’s more convenient for sending ‘energy’ in that position. And no, I don’t need your seed!”
“...Nuu.”
I've only heard about it.
Room techniques.
Some Dark Elves and Ogre women use them as some kind of health booster method.
I always thought they were just exaggerated claims in the adult entertainment industry.
I never expected something like that to help me.
“…So, uh... why did you save me?”
“You shouldn’t have been saved?”
“A lot of others died too.”
Gash isn't a special Lizardman. He's not even the strongest one and his bloodline isn’t particularly distinguished either.
“…It smelled familiar.”
“Huh?”
“It’s the smell. That’s all. And I was about to die right here.”
“I don’t get it…”
“What does it matter anyway?”
Gash felt dizzy at her words, considering how she’d just saved him.
“But if you feel grateful,”
The girl hit Gash on the head with a branch (she picked it up because hitting it wouldn’t work).
“Help me out. Gash Zapper.”
“Huh?”
“I want to see the Spirit Festival.”
“...the Spirit Festival?”
It’s a festival held every six months across the entire country to thank the spirits of heaven and earth. It was originally supposed to be an all-out celebration dedicated to the spirits.
“...Maybe you haven’t seen any spirits before?”
“If I don’t go, how could I see them? The core elements of spirits aren’t really able to move in directions they like on their own.”
“........”
Spirits are recognized as omnipresent yet nowhere specific within the country.
The shocking truth that this wasn’t actually the case was revealed to Gashu, who had no particular interest in it before now.
“No good?”
A sigh.
「...Got it. I dropped the life, and you picked it up, so here it is. ...Where do you want to go? What should we do?」
「Yeah! Well, around here... scoop up some of this water in a bag or container...」
◇◇◇
Time has passed since that hot summer day, and the season for the Spirit Festival has arrived.
“Soon it’ll be time for your favorite season, Heely.”
“Yes.”
In a cheap bar located between the desert and the marshlands, there sat a lizardman without a tail and an elf girl with an unusual presence. They were drinking together.
Gash Zapper and Heely Water. A retired soldier and a pseudo half-elf. Since humans can barely use magic, she had grown her ears long to look like one, but when asked by real elves about her true identity, she found it awkward to lie so now calls herself a half-elf. She has somehow become Gash’s good partner who gets easily riled up.
“…Hey, after the Spirit Festival…”
Gash was about to ask what they were going to do when Heely hit him playfully with a short stick she had made from that tree branch. She smiled and raised her index finger.
“We don’t talk about things before or after the fun festival starts.”
“You can’t even plan for next year then, huh?”
“Yeah. All we should really be doing is…”
Bringing her lips close to his.
“What are you going to do tonight? That’s all we can discuss right now.”
“…This slutty spirit…”
“Some horny lizardman put that idea in your head every night, didn’t he?”
Despite their constant bickering, the two of them seemed surprisingly happy.
(To be continued)
A torrential thunderstorm hammered down.
Through the dense, lush subtropical forest, several figures fled, their footsteps creating a heavy, splashing, and clattering rhythm.
Amidst the intermittent flashes of lightning, they ran relentlessly, shouting something as they went.
Their tattered clothing and the frequent sight of crimson stains indicated that they were the remnants of a defeated force.
Suddenly, the view opened up directly ahead of them.
It was a shallow river.
It was not a river by nature, but during the dry season, it served as a path for travelers.
The fleeing men clicked their tongues and looked back.
Behind them, lightning flashed repeatedly, as if slowly cornering them.
With no other choice, the men stepped into the shallow but fast-moving current.
"We've been waiting for you."
Just before the men could cross, something rose fluidly from the water.
There were five in total.
Stopping their crossing, the men braced themselves against the appearance of the enemy through the veil of rain.
Standing there were demi-human soldiers, their crimson eyes glowing in the rainy twilight.
"Tch."
"Lizardmen!!"
Struggling against the swift current, the fleeing men readied their respective weapons: broadswords, shortswords, and wing-bladed spears.
Their weaponry, typical of a lightly armored mobile unit, was well-suited to this region, where the terrain was treacherous and soldiers rarely wore heavy armor.
However...
"Is that all you could bring? How pitiful."
The Lizardmen drew their weapons with mocking sneers.
Great axes, flails, and even twin large tomahawks.
A collective gasp could be heard from the retreating men.
Even without armor, the rain-slicked, scaled skin of the Lizardmen could parry and deflect most attacks. Furthermore, their heavy weapons could crush an opponent along with their defense, leaving no room for the delicate technique of swordplay.
Moreover, the unstable footing of the riverbed was practically no different from level ground for Lizardmen, who possessed thick tails and a low center of gravity. There was no escape.
The men were at an overwhelming disadvantage.
"But compared to facing Overnight, a few lizards are nothing!"
The men rallied their spirits.
And then, they lunged at the demi-humans before them without fear.
It was widely reputed that no warrior demonstrated such stable strength in a wetland as a Lizardman.
The water was too shallow for mermen to maneuver, yet the footing was too unstable for humans. In such a place, the Lizardman's awkward low posture and powerful tail became formidable weapons.
The presence of transparent inner eyelids, which remained unobstructed by water splashes, likely contributed to their combat prowess as well.
And yet...
"Not bad... for a bunch of mere bandits!!"
"Tch, don't get cocky, you merchant's pawns!!"
Before they knew it, the battle had devolved into one-on-one duels.
Most of the remnants—no, the bandits—were utterly helpless against the Lizardmen. Only one man, the wielder of the wing-bladed spear, was different. He possessed the skill to precisely and sharply strike the Lizardman's weakness: the underbelly.
The Lizardman squad, which should have once pushed the numbers back to five-against-two, was decimated—one fell, then another, until finally, everyone was wiped out, leaving only the twin-tomahawk user, Gash Zapper.
Gash had survived because he possessed defensive skills that were remarkably exceptional for a wielder of heavy weaponry. Even so, this bandit with the Winged Blade Spear must have been growing fatigued from a battle spent leaping across the water's surface like a dragonfly.
In an attempt to prevent him from recovering his stamina, Gash hurled his axe.
"Tch!!"
The bandit avoided the strike not by blocking it with his spear, but by throwing his body away from the water's surface.
The tomahawk struck, causing the river's surface to explode.
However, Gash immediately pulled the tomahawk back. His twin tomahawks—which were also family heirlooms—were connected by the "Silk Chain," a sturdy yet thin cord rumored to be a dragon's treasure. In this heavy rain, it might have looked as though he were pulling it back with magic.
Gash then used both tomahawks like shields to parry the bandit's spear thrusts. Fortunately for him, the lizardman's raw strength did not seem sufficient to break through the forged steel of the tomahawks.
The cycle repeated.
The bandit knew that if he ran, Gash would catch him. Driven by the pride of the National Army, Gash was determined not to let him escape.
Time flowed on over the battlefield where only two combatants remained in a stalemate.
Then, a sign of approaching reinforcements appeared.
Lightning was drawing near.
"Heh, your time is up, you filthy bandit!"
"...I wonder about that."
The bandit grinned, his face covered in mud.
Gash was certain it was mere bravity, born from the bandit's overconfidence—or rather, the lapse in focus that came from believing help was close.
As if determined to strip away even that bravado, Gash played his trump card.
"At least die with some dignity!"
With every ounce of his strength, he threw both tomahawks simultaneously.
"Hyahahaha!!"
The man leaned back to dodge the axes... only to be ensnared by the ultra-fine "Silk Chain" stretching between them, causing him to fall backward.
Gash charged. His final weapon was a horizontal sweep with his tail, a limb tempered by tribal martial arts and possessing the power to snap a tree trunk.
Just as he was about to strike the man, a fist-sized stone flew toward Gash from beyond the rain.
"!!"
Unintentionally losing his momentum, Gash caught the stone with his hand.
Through the rain, he saw one of the bandit's comrades—whom he thought he had already defeated—clamber onto the shore and hurl the stone using a makeshift sling made from a belt.
Before he could even process his bitterness, the bandit before his eyes rose swiftly, brandishing the Winged Blade Spear from the water.
"!!"
With a wet slice, Gash's tail was severed.
The blade entered through the soft side of his underbelly, leaving the flesh hanging by a mere strip of skin.
"Ugh... Aaaaagh!?"
Though it was a tail, it was undeniably a living organ. Gash collapsed, blood erupting from the wound in great torrents.
"...I win, you lizard."
The bandit with the Winged Blade Spear stood over him with a smirk.
Gash struck the riverbed with his fist. A true lizard might be able to run around unfazed after losing a tail, but because a lizardman's tail was so highly developed, it was not so simple. He felt as though he might lose consciousness from the pain. He had no weapons left.
The moment he had let his guard down, his defeat had been sealed.
"D... damn it... urgh..."
He waited for the finishing blow.
...But it did not come.
"...?"
He lifted his head. The bandit of the Winged Blade Spear was nowhere to be seen.
Only a mounting pile of corpses and the torrential rain remained around him.
The bandit had concluded that Gash possessed no tracking ability and had fled, taking the survivor with them.
"…Damn it… Damn it all…!!"
Intense pain.
The draining of his lifeblood.
Humiliation.
Amidst his fading consciousness, Gash poured his hot, bitter emotions into a scream.
"Daaaaaaaammit!!"
And then, he collapsed onto the riverbed.
Even for a Lizardman, the ability to staunch bleeding diminished while submerged in water. Even though he knew this would prove fatal, he had succumbed to a sense of utter despair, overcome by the sheer indignance of it all.
◇◇◇
A rainbow stretched across the sky, set against the backdrop of the morning glow.
When the violent rains of the wet season cease, thick and beautiful rainbows can sometimes appear.
According to Lizardman oral tradition, that seven-colored form was the afterimage and flight path of the Origin Dragon, the primordial being that birthed the Lizardman race.
It was said that the Origin Dragon loved the Lizardman species it had created.
That even after death, it became a spirit, and upon a Lizardman's passing, it would guide them to the path to paradise with a kiss.
"…Is it time to come and collect me…?"
Gash muttered, gazing up at the rainbow.
He thought that would be fine. As a Lizardman soldier, Gash Zapper had died in battle against a powerful foe.
It was easiest to tell himself that he had died with that single blow.
However, a voice snickering with contempt shattered his comfortable delusion.
"Ha! Is that that story about lizards riding rainbows to paradise? Don't make me imagine it, it's gross."
"What did you say, you bastard!?"
Gash’s eyes flew open, and he jerked his head up.
Being a soldier, Gash considered himself relatively free of prejudice toward other races compared to the Lizardmen who remained secluded in their colonies—but he wasn't so much of an eccentric that he felt lust toward other species. Skin without scales or color gradients wasn't at all seductive to him; he preferred faces that looked more lizard-like.
Or so he thought.
Because as he looked at the naked body of a girl who appeared to be human—sitting astride his waist and brushing her hair back—he could not suppress the sudden, heavy throb of lust.
"…Whoa, it got bigger."
"!?"
The girl spoke without a hint of allure, as if she were describing an insect twitching.
In that moment, Gash realized that one half of his hemipenis was inserted inside her.
"Wh—What the hell are you doing!?"
"Rescuing a life. …Whoa, whoa, it's still getting bigger—wait, it gets this big!?"
"H-Hey, wait a minute!"
Gash was in total chaos. Not only was this his first time feeling lust toward a human, but it was also his first time waking up to find he was already having sex. Furthermore, the fact that he was unexpectedly vigorous despite being on the brink of death was an unexpected variable; he couldn't make heads or tails of it.
This man was used to inconvenient surprises, but he had never experienced the reverse.
"…Argh, forget it, just let me do it!!"
Ultimately, driven by confusion, he decided to surrender entirely to instinct. Having already been prepared to die, the idea of trying to handle things rationally felt utterly foolish.
"Eh? Huh?"
The girl was visibly flustered by the hemipenises, both internal and external, that had suddenly become erect, but she seemingly hadn't expected Gash to snap awake with bloodshot eyes and immediately demand sex.
Without warning, he grabbed her waist and arms, thrusting one side of his swollen, bifurcated penis back and forth. There was no romance or atmosphere to speak of—it was a forced cowgirl position.
"Ow, wait... stop, this is...!?"
"You were just sucking on someone else's cock, don't act all innocent now!"
"N-no, wait, that's not... ugh, you...!!"
The girl swung her free hand, slapping Gash across the nose.
Gash, completely unfazed, continued to heave his hips with heavy breathing. As a lizardman capable of maintaining his posture using his tail in addition to both legs, he was a master of upward thrusting.
Realizing halfway through that her tail was missing, she vaguely understood that this wasn't heaven, nor was that battle a dream.
The girl kept slapping Gash's nose, but eventually, she seemed to give up... or perhaps she simply began to feel the pleasure, and her hands went still.
"Ugh, you idiot... you idiot lizard, you ungrateful...!"
"Hah... hah... Who cares? I don't give a damn! You're just an impudent brat, getting all erotic while someone is literally dying right in front of you...!!"
"...I'm... I'm really going to make you grovel for this later...!!"
"I told you, I don't care!! Ah, god, your womb feels so good!!"
It was essentially rape; Gash ruthlessly rubbed his penis against the girl's vagina as she squirmed. He had mated with lizardwomen several times before, but this sensation was entirely different.
His instincts commanded him: I want to spill everything inside her. I want to make her lay eggs from the depths of this womb. I want to make her burst with eggs fertilized by my seed.
Pre-ejaculate began to overflow from the external penis, and Gash thrust his hips violently, slamming that penis against her abdomen as well, until he finally climaxed.
"Gngh, OOOOOHHH!!"
"Nngh... wa-wait... this is too tight... haaaah!!"
He ejaculated a massive amount of semen simultaneously into the girl's womb and onto her stomach. It flooded her womb, her belly, her navel, her breasts, her nipples, her chin, and her collarbone. A viscous amount of semen erupted, far more than even he could have expected.
"You... idiot... my stomach is going to burst..."
The girl broke into a cold sweat, looking pained. She was enduring the sensation of a penis that had grown larger than expected being driven into her cervix, followed by the relentless injection of a volume of thick semen that no normal human could ever withstand—the area below her navel swelling strangely before leaking down the shaft of the penis in a repetitive cycle.
"Haa... haa... A human female... how nice..."
Gash looked ready to keep going. Since he had thought himself dead, he had nothing else to think about. Or rather, he simply didn't want to think about anything else.
However, the girl finally struck him with her fist.
"I-I'm not human!! I am a spirit, a water spirit!"
"...Huh?"
—A legend passed down in the lake and marshlands.
In a swamp somewhere in this region, there lives a water spirit.
Its power occasionally surpasses even that of dragons, and can be described as the embodiment of nature itself.
People must revere that power and be grateful for the life it sustains. Otherwise, this region, much like the Russell Desert to the north, will wither away, becoming a barren wasteland inhabited only by desert lizards and monsters—.
"Why is that water spirit mating with a lizardman, you idiot?"
"How can you say that after I went out of my way to save you!?"
The naked girl, now freed from Gash's groin, was visibly fuming.
"That was simply a position that was convenient for sending 'Qi'! I don't need your seed or anything!"
"...Guh."
I had heard the name before.
Bedchamber arts.
An outrageous health regimen used by certain dark elves and female ogres.
I had assumed it was nothing more than hyperbole used by the sex industry.
I never imagined I would be saved by it.
"…So, uh… why? Why did you save me?"
"Is there a reason I shouldn't?"
"There were plenty of others who died besides me."
Gash was no special lizardman. He wasn't the strongest of his kind, nor did he possess any illustrious lineage.
"…Because you smelled nostalgic."
"Huh?"
"The smell. That's all. And besides, you just happened to be dying right where I was."
"…That makes no sense."
"Who cares about that?"
Gash felt dizzy at her blatant lack of consideration after such a life-saving deed.
"But, if you feel indebted..."
The girl smacked Gash on the head with a tree branch (which she had picked up since hitting him with her hand had no effect).
"Then cooperate with me a little. Gash Zapper."
"What?"
"You see, I want to see the Spirit Festival."
"…The Spirit Festival?"
A festival held once every six months across the entire country to give thanks to the spirits of heaven and earth.
By all rights, it was supposed to be a boisterous celebration offered to the spirits.
"…Don't tell me the spirits can't see that?"
"Of course they can't see it unless they go. The elemental cores of spirits can't move themselves toward things they like very easily."
"…………"
Within the country, spirits were recognized as omnipresent beings—existing everywhere and nowhere all at once.
The shocking truth—that this wasn't actually the case—was now being revealed to Gash, who had never held much interest in the matter.
"Is that a no?"
A sigh.
"…Fine. That life was mine to lose and yours to take. I'll give it to you. …Where do you want to go? What do I need to do?"
"Yay! Okay, so, take some water from around here… put it in a bag or a container…"
◇◇◇
Time flowed on from that day in midsummer, and the season of the Spirit Festival returned.
"The season you've been waiting for is almost here, Heely."
"Yeah."
A cheap tavern in a certain city nestled between a desert and a marsh.
A tailless lizardman and a strikingly present beautiful elf sat close together, drinking.
Gash Zapper and Heely Water. A veteran and a pseudo-half-elf.
Since humans can hardly use magic, the water spirit had begun calling herself a half-elf to present long ears, yet to avoid trouble if questioned by a true elf. Before long, she had become the perfect partner for the hot-headed Gash.
"...Hey, once the Spirit Festival is over..."
Gash was about to ask what she planned to do, but Heeray gave him a light thwack with the short wand she had fashioned from a tree branch back then, a small smile playing on her lips as she raised her index finger.
"We don't talk about what happens after the festival before the fun has even begun."
"Even if you say that, it means we won't be able to talk about next year, either."
"Yep. The most we should be talking about right now is..."
She leaned her lips close to his.
"...Something like, 'What are we going to do tonight?'"
"...You lewd spirit..."
"Well, isn't it because some perverted lizardman has been plotting something every single night?"
Despite the constant stream of insults, the two of them looked unexpectedly happy.
(To be continued)
A thunderstorm hammered down.
Bashabasha-gashaga, the sound of footsteps echoed through the dense subtropical forest as figures sprinted.
Amidst flashes of lightning, they screamed something, running desperately.
Their tattered clothes and the often-visible crimson stains marked them as defeated survivors.
Then, suddenly, their view cleared.
A shallow river.
Not usually a river, but in the dry season, it was a path for people to cross.
The defeated men clicked their tongues and glanced back.
There, lightning flashed repeatedly—pursuing them slowly.
As if there were no other choice, the men stepped into the swiftly flowing shallows.
"Thought you'd never show."
Before the men could cross, something surged up from the water.
Five of them.
The crossing halted, and through the veil of rain, they braced for the enemy’s appearance.
There stood subhuman soldiers with crimson eyes gleaming in the rainy twilight—Lizardmen.
"Tch."
"Lizardmen, huh?!"
The defeated men staggered against the current, each gripping their weapon.
Broad swords, short swords, wing-blade spears.
Weapons suited for lightly armored mobile units—perfect for this region where footing was treacherous and soldiers rarely wore armor.
But.
"Is that all you could bring? How pathetic."
The Lizardmen revealed their weapons with mocking laughter.
Great axes, chain balls, or two massive tomahawks each.
A collective gasp rose from the defeated men.
Even without armor, the rain-soaked scales of the Lizardmen deflected and repelled even crude attacks. And their heavy weapons could shatter opponents—defense and all—before they could even attempt finesse like swordplay.
Moreover, this rushing current was little different from flat ground for Lizardmen with their thick tails and low centers of gravity. There was no escape.
The men were overwhelmingly outmatched.
"But compared to fighting Overnights, a few lizards ain’t nothing!"
The men rallied.
And without fear, they leaped at the subhumans before them.
It was common knowledge that no warriors could match the Lizardmen’s stability in wetlands.
Too shallow for Merfolk to move well, too unstable for Humanoid-types—there, the Lizardmen’s awkwardly low stance and powerful tails became a formidable weapon.
Their transparent inner eyelids, impervious to water spray, surely contributed to their combat prowess.
But…
"You dare… a lowly thief like you, huh?!"
"Shut your mouth, merchant's pawn! Don't act so high and mighty!"
Before they knew it, it was one-on-one.
Most of the defeated… no, the thieves were helpless against the lizardmen, but there was one exception: the winged spearman. He possessed the skill to strike precisely at the lizardmen’s weak point—their bellies—with deadly accuracy.
The lizardman squad, which had once been pushed back to a 5-on-2 disadvantage, now lay in ruins. The winged spearman had pierced them one by one—first one fell, then another—and finally, only Gash Zapper, the twin tomahawk wielder, remained standing.
Gash had survived thanks to his exceptional defensive skills, rare even among heavy weapon users. Still, this winged spear thief must be exhausted from leaping about like a river cicada in battle.
Gash hurled his axe, hoping to drain the thief’s stamina.
"Tch!"
The thief didn’t meet it with his spear but instead dove into the water as if throwing himself at it to evade.
A tomahawk strike exploded on the surface of the river.
But Gash immediately reeled in the weapon. His twin tomahawks, family heirlooms, were connected by a dragon’s treasure—a strong yet thin cord known as "Silken Chain." In this rain, it might appear as if he was pulling them back with magic from that thief.
And Gash deflected the thief’s spear thrusts, using both tomahawks as shields. The fact that the lizardman’s brute strength couldn’t break through his forged tomahawks was a small mercy for Gash.
The same thing repeated.
The thief knew he couldn’t outrun Gash if he fled on foot. And Gash, upholding the honor of the national army, would not let him escape.
Time alone flowed in this stalemate between two men.
Then, signs of reinforcements appeared.
Lightning was drawing near.
"Heh, time to pay your dues, you rotten thief!"
"...Is that so?"
The thief grinned, his face caked in mud.
Gash saw through the bravado—born from the thief’s overconfidence due to the approaching reinforcements.
He would strip away that false confidence, and with it, Gash unleashed his trump card.
"Then die easy!"
With all his might, he threw both tomahawks simultaneously.
"Hahahaha!!"
The man twisted to dodge the axe… but the razor-thin "Silken Chain" between them restrained him, forcing him backward.
Gash charged in. His final weapon was a tribal ancient martial art—a sideways tail swipe honed to break even a large tree with one swing.
Just as he was about to unleash it on the thief, a fist-sized stone flew toward Gash from beyond the rain.
"!!"
Without thinking, Gash weakened his momentum and caught the stone in his hand.
Beyond the rain, he saw one of the thief’s comrades—who he thought he’d defeated—climb onto the shore and hurl it at him with an impromptu slingshot made from a belt.
Before Gash could even register his frustration, the thief before him quickly rose to his feet, raising his winged spear from the water.
"!!"
Thrust.
Gash’s tail was severed.
The blade sliced into the soft underside of his flank, leaving only a single layer of skin before it dangled limply in the air.
"Ugh… Aaaah!?"
Even a tail is a living organ, after all. Gushing blood, Gash falls to the riverbed.
"...I win, you lizard."
The Winged Blade Thief grinned as he stood up.
Gash pounded the riverbed with his fist. A real lizard could probably lose its tail and keep running, but a Lizardman’s tail had become too developed for that. The pain nearly knocked him unconscious. He was weaponless now.
He lost the moment he let his guard down.
"Kuh… damn it… oh."
Waiting for the finishing blow.
…But it doesn’t come.
"...?"
He looked up. The Winged Blade Thief wasn’t there.
Only a mountain of corpses and torrential rain surrounded him.
The thief had judged Gash to lack tracking ability and fled with the survivors.
"...Damn it… damn it all…!!"
Intense pain.
Blood draining from his body.
Humiliation.
Gash screamed, riding the wave of hot, bitter emotions as his consciousness faded.
"KU-SO-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-OOOOOOH!"
And then, he collapsed onto the riverbed.
Even a Lizardman’s hemostatic abilities are weakened in water. Knowing that this could cost him his life, he was reckless from sheer humiliation.
◇◇◇
A rainbow arched against the dawn sky.
After the intense rains of the rainy season, thick, beautiful rainbows sometimes appear.
According to Lizardman oral tradition, those seven colors were the lingering afterimage and flight trail of the Origin Dragon that created them in ancient times.
The Origin Dragon loved the Lizardmen it had created.
Even after death, it became a spirit, guiding Lizardmen to paradise with a kiss at the moment of their passing.
"...A welcome…"
Gash muttered, gazing up at the rainbow.
That was fine. Gash Zapper, Lizardman soldier, had died in battle against a formidable foe.
It was easiest to believe that he died from that one blow.
But a scoffing voice laughed at Gash’s comfortable delusion.
"Hah, you mean that thing about lizards riding rainbows to paradise? Don’t make me picture it, it’s gross."
"Who the hell is that?"
Gash couldn’t help but widen his eyes and lift his head.
Gash, being a soldier and all, considered himself less prejudiced against other races compared to the lizardmen holed up in the colony. But that didn’t mean he was so eccentric as to lust after other species. Skin without scales or color gradients wasn’t exactly sexy, and he preferred faces that were more lizard-like anyway.
Or at least, that’s what he thought until now.
The bare body of a girl who appeared to be human, perched sideways on his hips while raking her fingers through her hair… He couldn’t suppress the sudden throb of desire.
"...Whoa, you got hard."
"!?"
The girl said it like it was nothing, devoid of any sensuality, as if bugs were crawling under her skin.
In that instant, Gash realized one of his hemipenes was already inside her.
"W-What the hell are you doing?!"
"Rescuing lives… Whoa, whoa, you’re getting even harder? Like, seriously, how big is this thing?!"
"W-Wait a minute—"
Gash was confused. Not only was this the first time he’d ever felt lust for a human, but it was also the first time he’d woken up to find himself already having sex. And on top of that, he should have been near death, yet he felt surprisingly energetic—none of which made any sense.
This guy was used to inconvenient miscalculations going wrong, but never the other way around.
"...Ugh, fine! Just let me do it!"
And so, in his confusion, he decided to completely abandon reason and rely on instinct. Having already resigned himself to death, he felt like dealing with things rationally was pointless.
"Huh? Huh?"
The girl was flustered by the suddenly erect hemipenes inside and out of her, but she hadn’t expected Gash, who had just woken up, to suddenly demand sex with bloodshot eyes.
He grabbed her waist and arms, thrusting one side of his bifurcated penis in and out without any preamble or atmosphere—just forceful riding.
"T-That hurts… Wait, like this…!?"
"You were the one who suddenly shoved someone else’s dick down your throat, so don’t act all innocent!"
"Y-Yeah, that’s not—Ugh, stop it…!!"
The girl slapped Gash across the face with her free hand.
Gash didn’t feel a thing and tried to keep thrusting. Lizardmen could maintain their position using their legs and tails, making them good at ramming.
He realized halfway through that he was missing his tail, and vaguely understood that this wasn’t heaven and that last battle hadn’t been a dream.
The girl had been slapping Gash’s face repeatedly, but she seemed to give up—or rather, she started feeling it—and stopped hitting him.
"You… you ungrateful lizard bastard…!"
"Haa, haa… Who cares? Screw you, screw you, screw you! You’re being disrespectful, making lewd moves while someone’s dying slowly…"
"...I’m gonna make you beg for forgiveness later, you hear me?!"
"I said I don’t care!! Oh man, this feels so good in your womb—"
Gash was now raping her without mercy, grinding his penis against the squirming girl’s vagina.
He’d had sex with lizardman women before, but this felt completely different.
Instinct commanded him. He wanted to unload inside the girl’s vagina. He wanted to force her to lay eggs deep within her womb.
He wanted to make her birth eggs filled with his seed, one after another.
Pre-cum began to overflow from the penis outside, and Gash slammed that one against her stomach as well while pounding his hips, finally ejaculating.
"Guh, ohhhhhh!!"
"Ngh… W-Whoa… This is tight… Haaah!!"
He simultaneously unloaded a massive load of cum into the girl's womb and onto her stomach.
Deep inside her womb, on her stomach, navel, breasts, nipples, jaw, collarbones—
A shockingly large amount of thick semen was being ejaculated.
"Hyaa… damn it… my stomach’s gonna burst…"
The girl’s face was slick with sweat as she strained.
Her cervix was being impaled by a penis that had grown far larger than expected, and on top of that, she was relentlessly bombarded with an impossible amount of viscous semen for a normal human being—her navel area kept swelling up, then shrinking back down the length of the shaft in a relentless cycle.
"Haa… haa… a human female… nice…"
Gash was still fully prepared to continue. He’d been dead, so he had nothing else to think about. Or rather, didn’t want to think about anything.
But the girl finally slapped him with an open hand.
"I’m not human!! I’m a spirit, a water spirit!"
"...Huh?"
──A legend passed down in the lake and marshlands.
Somewhere in these swamps lives a water spirit.
Its power sometimes surpasses even dragons, and can be described as nature itself.
The people must revere its power and be grateful for being sustained by it. Otherwise, this region will become as dry as the northern Russell Desert—a barren wasteland inhabited only by desert lizards and monsters…
"Why’s that water spirit boning a lizardman, you idiot?"
"You saved me, and that’s how you talk to me?!"
The naked girl, freed from Gash’s crotch, glared at him.
"That was just a convenient position for transferring 'ki,' I didn’t need your seed or anything!"
"...Huh."
He’d heard of it before.
Fuzhun Jiu.
A ridiculous health-boosting technique used by some dark elves and ogre women.
He’d always assumed it was just exaggerated advertising from the sex industry.
Never thought he’d be saved by it.
"...So… uh… why did you save me?"
"Why shouldn’t I have saved you?"
"A lot of other people died too, you know."
Gash wasn’t some special lizardman. Not even the strongest one, and his bloodline wasn’t that prestigious.
"...Because I smelled something familiar."
"Huh?"
"The smell. That’s all. And I happened to be nearby when you were about to die."
"...That makes no sense."
"Whatever, it doesn’t matter."
Gash felt dizzy. Saved me and that’s how you talk?
"But if you feel indebted to me—"
The girl took a branch (she’d picked it up since hitting him with her hand didn’t work) and smacked Gash’s head.
"Cooperate a little, Gash Zapper."
"Huh?"
"I want to see the Spirit Festival."
"...Spirit Festival?"
A festival held nationwide once every six months to give thanks to the spirits of heaven and earth.
Originally, it was supposed to be a wild celebration dedicated to the spirits.
"...You haven’t seen that yet?"
"You can’t just go and see it. The spirit’s core element doesn’t move where I want it to on its own."
"............"
The spirits are recognized in the country as an omnipresent, yet absent, existence.
The shocking truth that they weren’t quite like that was revealed to Gash, who hadn’t been particularly interested until now.
"No good?"
He sighed.
"...Fine. You’re a life I dropped and you picked up, so I’ll give it to you. ...Where do you want to go? What should I do?"
"Yay! Well, take some water from around here... fill a bag or something with the water from this area..."
◇◇◇
Time passed since that day in the middle of summer, and the season for the Spirit Festival arrived.
"The season you’ve been waiting for is almost here, Heili."
"Yeah."
A dive bar located between a desert and a lake.
A lizardman without a tail and an elf with an oddly strong presence were leaning against each other, drinking.
Gash Zapper and Heili Water. A veteran and a fake half-elf.
The water spirit, who made her ears long to appear magical since humans couldn’t use much magic but also called herself a half-elf so real elves wouldn’t ask about her origins, had somehow become Gash’s good partner, despite his tendency to get angry easily.
"...Hey, after the Spirit Festival—"
Before Gash could ask what she was going to do, Heili tapped him on the head with the short wand made from that branch back then, smiled slightly, and raised her index finger.
"We don’t talk about what happens before a fun festival starts or after it’s over."
"Even if you say that, I can’t talk about next year either!"
"Yeah. The most we can do right now is..."
She brought her lips close.
"What are we going to do tonight? Maybe?"
"...This nympho spirit—"
"Was taught by some perverted lizardman every night, wasn’t she?"
Despite all the curses they exchanged, the two seemed surprisingly happy.
(To be continued)
(Note: Since the provided text is simply "(続く)" (tsuzuku), which means "to be continued," there is no additional content to translate beyond this standard phrase. If you have more text, please provide it for a full translation.)
A thunderstorm that strikes with crushing force.
Amidst the dense, verdant canopy of a subtropical forest, several figures sprint through the undergrowth, their footsteps splashing and crunching—bashaba-sha-gasha-gasha.
Occasionally illuminated by flashes of lightning, they scream as they press onward without respite. Their tattered clothes and the frequent streaks of crimson staining their bodies betray them as the remnants of a defeated force.
Suddenly, ahead of them, the view opens up.
A shallow river stretches before them.
It is not a permanent waterway; during the dry season, it serves as a thoroughfare for travelers.
The retreating men curse under their breath and glance back.
There, lightning flashes repeatedly in the distance, slowly closing in on them like an inevitable trap.
With no other choice, they step forward into the swift-flowing stream.
"Waitin' for ya," someone calls out.
Before the men can cross, something rises from the water—five of them.
They halt mid-stride, bracing themselves against the enemy's emergence through the veil of rain.
Standing there are monstrous demi-human soldiers, their red eyes glowing vividly in the twilight gloom of the storm.
"Tch."
"Lizardmen!!"
The retreating men grip their weapons tightly, trembling slightly as they face the rushing current. Broad swords, short blades, winged spears—light and agile gear suited for a region where footing is treacherous and armor is rarely worn.
But then:
"That's all you could bring? Pathetic."
The lizardmen mockingly reveal their own armaments: massive axes, chain flails, or twin tomahawks of imposing size. A visible intake of breath escapes the retreating men. Even without armor, the rain-slicked scales of the lizardmen deflect attacks with ease. Their heavy weapons crush defenses before any intricate swordplay can be attempted. Moreover, the slippery riverbed poses little challenge to creatures with low centers of gravity and thick tails; escape is impossible. The men are hopelessly outmatched.
"Still, facing a few lizards isn't half as bad as battling Over-night!"
The men rally their spirits and charge forward at the demi-humans before them, unafraid.
It is widely rumored that no warrior matches the stability of strength exhibited by lizardmen in wetlands. Shallow waters unsuitable for merfolk yet unstable ground for humans become the lizardmen's domain—their awkwardly low stance and powerful tails turn into formidable advantages. Even their transparent inner eyelids, which remain unobstructed by splashing water, contribute to their combat prowess.
But...
"Stop it... you scoundrel!"
"Hmph! Merchants' pawns dare to boast?"
Before he knew it, they were locked in a one-on-one duel.
Most of the remnants—no, the thieves themselves had been utterly overwhelmed by the lizardmen, unable to even raise a hand or foot in defense. Yet one man stood apart: the Winged Spear wielder. He possessed a technique capable of piercing precisely and sharply at the lizardmen's vital weakness—their bellies.
The lizardman squad, which had once driven them back with a 5-to-2 advantage, was now being cut down one by one by the Winged Spear user. In the end, only Gash Zapper, the twin-tomahawk user, remained standing; the rest lay dead.
Gash had survived solely because his mastery of defensive techniques—uncommon among heavy-weapon users—had kept him alive. Still, even this thief wielding the Winged Spear must have grown weary from fighting while leaping across the water like a dragonfly skimming its surface.
Determined not to let him recover any stamina, Gash hurled his axe at him.
"Hmph!!"
The thief dodged without raising his spear, throwing himself into the water as if surrendering to it.
A tomahawk strike that exploded upon hitting the river's surface.
But almost immediately, Gash reeled his twin tomahawks back. His heirloom weapons—the Twin Tomahawks—were connected by an incredibly strong yet slender cord known as "Silken Chains," said to be a dragon treasure. In this rain, it might appear that magic was pulling them back from the thief's grasp.
Then, Gash deflected the thief's spear thrusts using both tomahawks like shields. It seemed he couldn't muster enough power to break through the lizardmen's strength or the forged steel of their weapons—a fortunate limitation for Gash.
This exchange repeated itself over and over.
The thief knew that if he fled on foot, Gash would surely catch up. Driven by pride in his nation's army, Gash refused to let him escape.
Time passed alone across the stagnant battlefield where only two combatants remained.
Then, signs of reinforcements appeared in the distance.
Lightning was approaching.
"Hah! The time for tribute has come, you rotten thief!"
"...I wonder."
The thief grinned, his face smeared with mud.
Gash concluded that the thief's calm demeanor stemmed not from confidence, but from arrogance born of seeing reinforcements approach—or perhaps merely a bluff.
As if to strip away such false bravado, Gash unleashed his trump card.
"Die at least in peace!"
With every ounce of strength left, he hurled both tomahawks simultaneously.
"Hahaha!!"
The man twisted his body to dodge the axe... only to fall backward, restrained by the ultra-thin "Silken Chains" strung between the two flying weapons.
Seizing the moment, Gash charged forward. His final weapon was a tail sweep honed through tribal ancient martial arts—a strike powerful enough to snap even a massive tree trunk held in one embrace.
Just as he prepared to deliver that blow, a fist-sized stone flew toward him from beyond the rain.
"!!"
Gash instinctively slowed his advance, catching the stone with his hand.
Through the downpour, he saw one of the defeated thieves climb onto the shore and hurl another projectile using a makeshift slingshot crafted from a belt.
Without even allowing himself time to feel bitterness, the thief standing before Gash swiftly rose again, lifting his Winged Spear from the water.
"!!"
Clang! Gash's tail was severed.
The blade sliced cleanly into his soft underbelly, leaving not even a single layer of skin intact as it hung suspended in midair.
"Guh... aaaah!?"
Even a tail is a living organ. A torrent of blood gushed forth, and Gash fell to the ground.
"...I win, you lizard."
The Winged Blade Thief stood up and grinned.
Gash pounded the riverbed with his fist. If this were a real lizard, it could probably run around even after losing its tail, but the tail of a Lizardman had grown so large that such an option was impossible. The pain nearly knocked him out. He had no weapons left.
The moment he'd let his guard down, defeat was sealed.
"Guh... damn it... ooh..."
He waited for the killing blow.
...But it never came.
"...?"
He lifted his head. The Winged Blade Thief was gone.
All around lay piles of corpses and nothing but a torrential downpour.
The thief had judged that he couldn't track Gash and fled with the survivors without looking back.
"...Damn it... damn it...!!"
Intense agony.
The life force draining away.
Humiliation.
Amidst his fading consciousness, Gash screamed out a hot, bitter emotion.
"Daaaaamn it...!!!"
And then, he collapsed onto the riverbed.
Even for a Lizardman, the ability to stop bleeding weakened underwater. Knowing that this would be fatal, he had given up in sheer humiliation.
◇◇◇
A rainbow appeared against the dawn sky.
After the heavy rains of the monsoon season subside, sometimes a thick, beautiful rainbow can be seen.
According to Lizardman oral tradition, those seven colors were the lingering image and flight trail of the Origin Dragon that gave birth to Lizardmen in ancient times.
It was said that the Origin Dragon loved the race of Lizardmen it had created.
Even after death, it became a spirit and, at the moment of a Lizardman's passing, would offer them a kiss and guide them onto the vessel bound for paradise.
"...Are you here to welcome me...?"
Gash murmured while gazing up at the rainbow.
That was fine. A Lizardman soldier, Gash Zapper, had fallen in battle before a formidable foe.
It would have been easiest to believe that he had died with that single blow.
However, a voice sneered at Gash's comfortable delusion.
"Hah, so you're the one who believes lizards ride rainbows to paradise? Don't make me imagine it; it's disgusting."
"Hey, you bastard!"
Gash couldn't help but widen his eyes and jerk his head up.
Gash, being a soldier himself, believed he was less prejudiced against other races compared to the lizardman who had been holed up in the colony all this time. Still, he certainly wasn't one to lust after members of other species. He found their scale-covered skin, lacking any color gradient, neither sexy nor appealing; he preferred faces that looked more like a lizard's.
That was supposed to be the case.
But when he felt an undeniable surge of arousal as he saw the naked body of what appeared to be a human girl sitting sideways on his waist and running her hand through her hair... he couldn't suppress the sudden "thump" in his chest.
"...Wow, it's gotten big."
"!??"
The girl spoke with no allure whatsoever, as if something had merely moved like an insect.
In that moment, Gash realized one of his hemipenes was already inserted inside the girl's body.
"W-what... what are you doing!?"
"It's a rescue operation... wow, wow, it's still getting bigger? Like, this much bigger!?"
"N-no, wait!"
Gash was confused. Not only had he never felt arousal toward a human before, but waking up to find himself already having sex was also unprecedented. Moreover, contrary to his expectation of being near death, he was surprisingly energetic—a development he hadn't calculated at all. He simply didn't understand what was going on.
This man was accustomed to unexpected outcomes that worked in his favor, but the opposite had never happened to him before.
"...Ah, screw it! Just do it already!!"
And so, overwhelmed by confusion, he decided to surrender completely to his instincts. Since he had already resigned himself to death and given up on rationality, dealing with things logically seemed absurd at that moment.
"Eh? Eh?"
The girl was flustered as she saw her hemipenes, now fully erect inside and outside Gash's body, but she hadn't expected the awakened Gash to suddenly glare with bloodshot eyes and demand sex.
He immediately grabbed the girl by the waist and arms, then began thrusting one of his swollen bifurcated penises in and out with vigor. It was a forced riding position devoid of any atmosphere or foreplay.
"I-it hurts... w-wait, this is too much...!?"
"You bit my dick without warning, so don't act all high-and-mighty!"
"W-whoa, that's not right... c-come on, already...!!"
The girl slapped Gash's face with her free hand.
Since it had no effect, Gash continued to swing his hips while panting heavily. As a lizardman capable of maintaining balance with both legs and his tail, he was particularly skilled at thrusting upward.
It was only when he realized his tail was missing halfway through that he vaguely understood: this wasn't heaven, and that battle hadn't been a dream.
The girl kept tapping Gash's face rhythmically, but after a while, she seemed to give up—or rather, began to feel something—and stopped her hands.
"Tch, idiot... you ungrateful lizard bastard...!"
"Haa, haa... who cares? Who gives a damn? You're a shameless little female kid making lewd moves while someone's dying slowly right in front of you...!!"
"...B-but I'm going to make you kowtow later, okay...!!"
"I said who cares! Ah, man, your womb feels so good!"
It was practically rape as Gash ruthlessly rubbed his penis against the girl's twitching vagina.
Although he had engaged in relations with female lizardmen before, this sensation was completely different.
His instincts commanded him: he wanted to ejaculate into her womb. He wanted to lay eggs deep within that womb.
He wanted to make her produce a bunch of eggs fertilized by his sperm, shaking them violently inside her.
Pre-cum began leaking from the penis still outside, and Gash slammed it firmly against the girl's abdomen while thrusting his hips vigorously. Finally, he ejaculated.
"G-guh, oooohhh...!!"
"Nnnn... w-whoa... t-this is intense... haaah...!!"
The girl's womb and her abdomen were simultaneously flooded with a massive volume of semen.
Deep into the womb, across the belly, around the navel, over the breasts, on the nipples, along the jawline, and across the collarbones.
A copious amount of slick, thick semen was ejaculated—more than even she could have imagined.
"Y-y-you idiot… my stomach's gonna burst…"
The girl grimaced, her face glistening with sweat.
Her penis, now unnaturally enlarged, had been thrust deep into her cervix, and despite that, an impossible-for-a-human quantity of viscous semen was relentlessly pumped into her again and again. She endured the cycle: her lower abdomen swelling strangely as semen traveled down the shaft of his penis to her legs, over and over.
"Haa… haa… N-no, not a human female… it's too much…"
Gash still seemed ready to continue. Having thought himself dead, he felt no need to consider anything else—or rather, he simply didn't want to.
But the girl finally punched him in the face with a clenched fist.
"N-not a human!! I'm a spirit! A water spirit!"
"…Huh?"
──Legend says in the marshlands:
Somewhere in the swamps of this region dwells a water spirit.
Its power can surpass even dragons, described as nothing less than nature itself.
The people revere its strength and must be grateful for their lives; otherwise, this land would dry up just like the Russell Desert to the north, becoming a barren wasteland inhabited only by desert lizards and monsters────.
"Why on earth did that water spirit mate with a lizardman, you idiot?"
"But we saved him! What kind of attitude is that?!"
The naked girl, freed from Gash's groin, glared at him in fury.
"That position was just convenient for channeling 'ki'—I have no need for your offspring!"
"…Nuu…"
He'd heard of it before.
Internal alchemy.
A ridiculous health-enhancement technique used by some dark elves and ogre women.
He'd always thought it was nothing more than exaggerated advertising from the adult industry.
He never imagined it could actually save him.
"So… why did you save me?"
"Was there any reason not to?"
"There were plenty of others who died."
Gash wasn't a special lizardman, nor particularly strong among them, nor did he come from an illustrious lineage.
"...Because I smelled something familiar."
"Huh?"
"The scent. That's all. Besides, you were dying right where I was."
"...I don't get it."
"Does it matter?"
Gash felt dizzy hearing such flippant words after being saved.
"But if you're grateful for my favor," the girl said, tapping Gash's head with a twig she'd picked up—she'd tried hitting him with it before and realized it didn't work well enough.
"Cooperate a bit, Gash Zapper."
"Huh?"
"I want to see the Spirit Festival."
"...Spirit Festival?"
It was a festival held once every six months across the entire country, a celebration of gratitude toward the spirits of heaven and earth.
Originally, it was supposed to be a raucous affair dedicated entirely to the spirits.
"...So you've never seen those 'spirits' before?"
"There's no way I could see them if I don't go. The core elements of the spirits can't move on their own in the direction people prefer."
"..."
In the country, spirits were widely recognized as omnipresent beings—existing everywhere and nowhere at once.
The shocking truth that they weren't actually like that was now revealed to Gash, who had shown little interest in them to begin with.
"No good?"
A sigh escaped her lips.
"...Alright then. I'll give you the life I dropped for you to pick up. Where do you want to go? What should we do?"
"Great! Um, scoop up some water from around here... fill it into a bag or container..."
◇◇◇
Time passed since that day in midsummer, and soon the season of the Spirit Festival arrived again.
"It's almost time for what I've been waiting for, Heeri," Gash said.
"Yeah."
In an inn nestled between the desert and the lakes, a certain city hosted them.
A tailless lizardman sat close to a strikingly present elf girl, sharing drinks.
Gash Zapper and Heeri Water—a retired veteran and a so-called half-elf.
Since humans could barely use magic, the water spirit had adopted long ears to appear more elven; yet when questioned about her true nature by actual elves, she simply claimed to be a half-elf. Over time, she had become Gash's trusted partner, despite his increasingly short temper.
"...So, after the Spirit Festival is over..."
Gash was about to ask what they should do next, but Heeri swiftly struck him once with the short staff made from that same twig they'd used before. She smiled softly and raised her index finger.
"We don't talk about things after a fun festival has ended before it even begins."
"But if we don't, how can we plan for next year?"
"Yeah. For now, all we can really do is..."
She leaned in closer.
"...Something like 'What are you going to do tonight?'"
"...This lustful spirit," Gash muttered.
"That's what some perverted lizardman must have been thinking every night," Heeri retorted.
Though they constantly exchanged sharp remarks, the two seemed surprisingly happy together.
(TBC)