A thunderstorm hammering down from above.
Beneath the dense canopy of a subtropical forest, several figures sprinted through with the sound of bashaba-shaga-shaga-sha, their footsteps crunching over the wet earth.

Occasionally illuminated by flashes of lightning, they shouted something indistinct, pressing forward without hesitation. Their tattered clothes and the frequent streaks of crimson blood staining their garments testified to their status as the remnants of a defeated force.

Suddenly, ahead of them, the forest opened up into a view.
It was a shallow river—not one that existed year-round; during the dry season, it served as a thoroughfare for travelers across the land.

The retreating men cursed under their breath and glanced back over their shoulders. There, far behind them, lightning flashed repeatedly, inching closer to close in on them with relentless determination. Seeing no choice but to move forward, the men stepped into the swift-flowing, shallow waters without delay.

"Been waiting for you."
Before the men could cross, something rippled upward from beneath the surface of the water. There were five of them in total.

The crossing party halted their advance, bracing themselves against the enemy's sudden appearance through the veil of rain. Standing there were grotesque half-human warriors, their reptilian eyes glowing a fiery red amidst the gloomy twilight brought on by the storm.

"Hmph."

"Lizardmen!?"

While struggling against the strong current, the fleeing men readied their weapons in defense: broadswords, short blades, and winged spear-tips. Such lightly armed gear suited the highly mobile unit perfectly for this region, where footing was treacherous and armor rarely worn.

But...
"So that's all they could scavenge? Pity," the lizardmen sneered as they produced their own arms. Huge axes, chain flails, or double-handed tomahawks—each warrior gripping two with grim resolve. The defeated men gasped audibly in shock. Even without armor, the rain-slicked scales of the lizardmen repelled every strike delivered by their human foes, bouncing attacks harmlessly away. Furthermore, their heavy weapons could shatter both shield and opponent alike before any intricate footwork or defensive technique might even be employed.

And for these creatures—stocky-tailed lizards with low centers of gravity—the unstable footing of the rushing stream was no more of a hindrance than flat ground. Escape was impossible. The men were hopelessly outmatched.
"But compared to fighting Overnight, taking down a few lizards is child's play!" shouted one of them, rousing his comrades' spirits. Undeterred by fear, they launched themselves forward at the half-human warriors before them.

It was widely rumored that no warrior in swampy terrain could match the consistent lethality of the lizardmen. Shallow waters unsuitable for merfolk yet treacherous enough to unsettle human-type races were exactly where the lizardmen's awkwardly low posture and robust tails became deadly advantages. Their translucent inner eyelids, which allowed them to see clearly through any splashing spray, further enhanced their combat effectiveness.

But...

"Dammit... those thieves! Show some respect!"

"Hmph! Don't puff your chests just 'cause you're merchants' pawns!"

Before long, the skirmish had devolved into one-on-one duels. While most of the defeated—no, better to say "thieves"—had been completely outmaneuvered by the lizardmen, a single figure stood apart: a man wielding the winged spear. He had mastered a technique to pierce with deadly precision right at the lizardmen's vulnerable underbellies.

The lizardmen squad, which should have overwhelmed them in a five-to-two ratio, had been decimated piece by piece as they were impaled by the winged spear wielder. One fell, then another, until only Gashu Zipper—the tomahock user—remained standing at the very end.

Gash survived precisely because, though skilled with heavy weaponry, he was exceptionally adept at defensive techniques. Still, this wing-blade spear thief ought to have been exhausted from fighting while leaping across the water like a water strider.

Gash hurled an axe at him, not intending to let him recover his stamina.
" Tch!! "
The thief evaded by diving into the surface without raising his wing-blade spear to block.
A tomahawk strike that detonated on the river's surface.
But Gash immediately reeled his tomahawk back. His family heirloom, the Twin Tomahawks, were connected by a supremely tough yet slender cord called "Silk Chains," reputed as dragon treasures. In this rain, it might look to that thief he was retrieving them with magic.

Gash then parried the thief's spear thrusts using both tomahawks like shields. It seemed the Rizardmen could not unleash power sufficient to penetrate the forged tomahawks; finding this a relief, Gash pressed on.

This cycle repeated endlessly.

The thief understood that if he fled at full speed, Gash would chase him down—he simply couldn't run. Gash refused to let such a desecrator escape under the banner of national pride.

In this frozen battlefield of two, only time flowed forward.

Then, there came signs of reinforcements approaching.

Lightning flashed; it was drawing near.

" Heh! It's tribute-paying season, you bastard thief!"

"...Might be,"

The thief grinned with mud-splattered face.

Gash immediately dismissed the thief's composure as bravado born from carelessness in the face of approaching reinforcements.

As if determined to strip away this empty arrogance, Gash unleashed his trump card.

" May you die at least comfortably!"

With all his remaining strength, he hurled both tomahawks simultaneously.

" Hyahaha!! "

The man twisted backward to dodge the axes... only to collapse rearward, bound by the warning of the ultra-thin "Silk Chains" between them.

Then Gash charged forward with reckless speed. His final weapon was a tail swipe honed through tribal ancient martial arts, capable of breaking even massive trees grown for decades.

Just as he prepared to strike the man down, a fist-sized stone flew from beyond the rain directly at him.

" !! "

Gash instinctively slackened his momentum and caught the stone with his hand.

Beyond the rain, he saw one of the defeated thieves climb onto the bank and fire a makeshift sling crafted from belt material right at him.

Without giving that bitter thought much weight, the thief standing before Gash swiftly rose and lifted his wing-blade spear from within the water.

" !! "

Clang! The tip of Gash's tail was severed clean off.

The blade sliced into the soft underside of his abdomen, hanging suspended in midair with but a single layer of skin remaining.

"Gh... aaaaah?!"

Even though it was a tail, it remained a vital organ coursing with blood. Gash fell, spewing profuse amounts of crimson gore.

"...I win, lizard bastard,"

The wing-blade spear thief stood up and grinned.

Gash hammered the riverbed with his fist. If he were a true lizard, he could shed his tail and scurry away without care—but for a Rizardman whose tails had developed far beyond normal, there was no such option. The pain threatened to knock him unconscious; furthermore, he wielded no weapons left.

Once he faltered in vigilance, defeat was already sealed.

" Ku... sso... oooh..."

He awaited the killing blow.

...But it did not come.

"...?"

He raised his head. There was no wing-blade thief there. All around were heaps of corpses and nothing but a torrential downpour. The thief had concluded Gash couldn't track him and had slipped away with the rest of the survivors while he still could.
"……Damn it…… Damn it……!!"
A searing pain.
The blood draining from his body.
Humiliation.
With consciousness fading, Gash screamed, pouring those hot, bitter emotions into his cry.
"Damnnnnnnnnn!!!"
And then he collapsed onto the riverbed.
Even for a lizard-man, hemostasis ability dwindles underwater. Knowing this would likely be fatal, sheer humiliation had pushed him to give up on everything.

◇◇◇

A rainbow arced across the dawn sky.

After the intense rains of the wet season abate, sometimes a thick, beautiful rainbow can be seen.

Lizard-man oral traditions passed down that those seven-colored forms are residual images and trails left by the Origin Dragons—the primordial beings who gave birth to the lizard-man race in antiquity.

It is said the Origin Dragons loved the species they created.

Even after death, they became spirits and, upon a lizard-man's passing, would ferry them toward paradise along with kisses.

"……Are you welcoming me……?"

Gash whispered while gazing upward at the rainbow.

That was fine. Lizard-man soldier, Gash Zapper, had fallen in battle before an overpowering foe.

The easiest thing to accept was that he'd died with that single blow.

But a voice scoffed right then, mocking his easy delusion.

"Hah, you mean the story about lizards riding rainbows into paradise? Don't make me imagine that; it's disgusting."

"Hey, you scoundrel!"

Gash couldn't help but snap his eyes wide and jerk his head up in surprise.

As a soldier, Gash believed he wasn't biased against other races more than most lizard-men holed up within the colony did—but that didn't mean he was some kind of womanizer who would lust after any other species. He had no particular attraction to scales or skin with color gradients; he preferred faces that looked more lizard-like.

That should have been true, yet...

Against his will, as a girl resembling a human stood on top of his waist and tousled his hair, he couldn't suppress the thudding sensation of arousal rising within him against her naked body.

"……Wow, she's gotten huge."

"!"

The girl spoke without any allure, sounding as though mere insects had moved.

In that very moment, Gash realized half of his hemipenis was already inserted inside her.

"W-w-what the hell are you doing!?"

"Life rescue... Uh, uh, I mean, it's still getting bigger? Like, this much bigger!?"

"I, no, wait a sec!"

Gash was bewildered. Not only had he never felt arousal toward a human before, but waking up to find himself already engaged in sex was equally unfamiliar. And though he should be near death, he was surprisingly energetic—something completely outside his calculations; he didn't even know what was going on.

This man, while accustomed to convenient surprises, had absolutely no experience with the reverse scenario.

"……Ah, forget it. Just fuck me already!!"

As a result of his confusion, he decided to simply surrender entirely to instinct. Having already accepted his impending death and given up hope, it felt absurd to try handling things rationally anymore.

"Eh? Eh?"

The girl was flustered as her internal and external hemipenes rapidly became erect, yet she hadn't expected Gash to wake up suddenly with bloodshot eyes and immediately demand sex. Without any warning, he grabbed her waist and arms, then began thrusting one of his swollen bifurcated penises in and out of her body—a forced riding position utterly devoid of any atmosphere or mood.

「A-iiit... w-wait, this is...!?!」

「You willingly stuck your mouth on another guy's cock all of a sudden, so what the hell is with this acting attitude!」

「W-whoa, n-no, that's not—ck, geez...!!」

Slapping Gash's snout with her spare hand, the girl tried to hit him. But since he was completely unfazed, he just started slapping his hips back and forth, 'haa haa,' attempting to maintain his posture with both legs and even his tail—a lizard-man made a master of thrusting upward. It was only when he realized his tail wasn't there midway through that he vaguely understood: this wasn't heaven, and that battle hadn't been a dream. The girl kept pachi pachi slapping Gash's snout, but eventually gave up... or perhaps, she'd come to feel something and stopped her hands.

「B-stupid... stupid lizard, you ungrateful bastard...!」

「Haa, haa... So what, so what? What's wrong with a lewd little girl like you trying to make inappropriate moves while someone's dying slowly?!」

「...I-I really plan to make you beg on your knees later...!!」

「I said so what...!! Ah, man, this feels good, your womb!」

Already amounting to outright rape, Gash ruthlessly rubbed his penis against the girl's vagina, which was writhing and quivering. He'd had intercourse with lizard-women before, but the sensation was completely different from those times. His instincts were ordering him: he wanted to ejaculate inside her vagina; he wanted to lay eggs in the depths of that womb. He wanted her to hatch a cluster of eggs fertilized by his own seed, one after another. Semen began overflowing from the penis protruding outward, and while slapping it against the girl's belly, Gash vigorously thrust his hips until he finally climaxed.

「Gguu, oooohooooo!!」

「Nnnngh... W-whoa, ...this is tough... w-wahh!!」

He sprayed massive amounts of semen simultaneously into her testicles and across her stomach. Deep into the sheath, onto her belly, around her navel, on her breasts, nipples, jawbone, collarbones—it all got coated. He ejaculated an astonishing amount of thick, sticky semen.

「W-whoa, stupid... my belly's gonna burst...!!!」

The girl struggled, her face slick with oily sweat. Stiffly impaled at the vaginal opening by a penis that had grown far larger than expected, she endured the relentless, insistent injection of viscous semen in quantities no normal human could produce, suffering through the repetitive cycle where her area below her navel would swell strangely and then relax along Gash's shaft.

「Haa... haa... T-there's nothing like a human female... damn it...」

Gash was still full of intentions to continue; having assumed he was already dead, he had no need to think about anything else—indeed, he didn't want to think at all. But the girl finally punched him in the face with a fist.

「T-they're not humans!! I'm a spirit, an water elementals spirit!」

「...Haa?」

── A legend passed down through the marshlands.
Somewhere in the marshes of this region dwells a water spirit. Its power can surpass even dragons and is said to embody nature itself. People must revere this power and be grateful for being sustained by it; otherwise, this very land would dry up completely, just like the northern Russell Desert, becoming a barren wasteland inhabited only by desert lizards and monsters────.

「Why on earth is that water spirit fucking a lizard-man, you idiot!」

「Just because humans saved us, why are you talking like this?!」

The naked girl, freed from Gash's crotch, glared at him with great annoyance. "That pose was simply convenient for sending 'Qi'; I don't need your spawn in the slightest!"

「...Nuugh」

I'd heard about it before.
Internal cultivation techniques.
Some kind of absurd health regimen used by a few dark elves and ogre women.
I had always assumed it was nothing more than exaggerated advertising from the sex industry.
I never thought I'd end up needing such help myself.

"……So, um… why did you save me?"

"How could I not?"

"There were plenty of others who died."

Gash wasn't particularly special among lizardmen. He wasn't exceptionally strong, nor did he come from any illustrious lineage.

"…I was struck by a familiar scent."

"Huh?"

"The scent. That's all. Also, they were dying right here, right where I was standing."

"…I don't get it."

"It doesn't matter anyway."

Gash felt dizzy hearing such an ungrateful remark.

"But if you're feeling indebted…"

The girl struck Gash on the head with a twig (she'd picked it up since tapping him directly wouldn't work).

"C'mon, start cooperating. Gassh Zappa."

"Huh?"

"I want to see the Spirit Festival."

"…Spirit Festival?"

Once every six months, held across the entire nation, this festival is dedicated in gratitude to the spirits of heaven and earth.
It was supposed to be a raucous celebration originally offered directly to the spirits.

"…So you've never seen that kind of spirit before, huh?"

"How could I see it if I didn't go? A spirit's core element won't move on its own unless guided properly."

"…………"

In this country, spirits were widely regarded as omnipresent yet nonlocal beings—existent everywhere and nowhere at once.
But Gash, who hadn't cared much in the first place, was just now confronted with the shocking truth that wasn't entirely so.

"No good?"

She let out a sigh.

"…Alright then. The life I dropped is yours to keep. Take it. Where do you want to go? What should we do?"

"Yes! You know, scooping up some water from around here…"

"Come on... once the Spirit Festival is over..."

Before Gash could say what he'd do next, Heili lightly tapped his shoulder with the short staff they'd made from a tree branch back then. A small smile playing on her lips, she raised her index finger.

"We don't talk about what happens after until the fun festival has even begun."

"But that means there's no way we can plan for next year either!"

"Yes," she replied softly, leaning in close. "Right now, the best you can hope to do is..."

"...ask something like, 'What are we doing tonight?' or so."

"What about this randy little spirit?" he retorted.

"That's some horny lizardskin who set us up every night!"

They muttered curses at each other, yet somehow they looked surprisingly happy together.

(to be continued)

A thunderstorm that smashes down from the sky.
Through the dense, humid jungle of the subtropical forest, a handful of figures sprint forward, their footsteps pounding against the earth with a cacophony of splashing water and snapping branches.
Lightning occasionally streaks across the heavens, illuminating them as they scream out some rallying cry, running blindly and desperately.
Their ragged clothing and the frequent glimpses of bloodstains told the story: they were the remnants of a broken force.

Without warning, the trees opened up directly in front of them.
It was a shallow river.
It wasn't always a river; during the dry season, it served as a common thoroughfare for travelers.
The battered men hissed through their teeth and glanced back over their shoulders.
Behind them, lightning flashed violently, repeated flashes seeming to slowly tighten the noose around their throats.
As if admitting there were no other choices, the men plunged into the shallow but fast-flowing river.

"We've been waiting for you."
Before the men could cross, figures swelled up from the water.
Five in total.
The men halted their crossing, raising guards against the unseen foes beyond the veil of rain.
Emerging into the twilight haze were misshapen Half-Orcs, their red eyes glowing in the downpour.

"Tch."

"Razors!"

Stumbling in the swift current, the defeated men drew their weapons.

Broadswords, shortswords, winged-blade spears.

Such armaments were typical of a light infantry mobile unit, well-suited to this region where soldiers rarely wore armor and the footing was treacherous.

But.

"So that's all you managed to bring? Pity."

The Razors drew their own weapons with mocking disdain.

Great axes, flail clubs, or dual-wielded large tomahawks.

A collective gasp escaped the defeated men.

Even without armor, the Razors' scaled skin, slick with rain, deflected and bounced away mundane attacks. And their heavy weapons required no such fine techniques as sword defense; they would crush both weapon and wielder in a single strike.

Moreover, this flowing current offered no advantage to the defenders. For Razors with their thick tails and low centers of gravity, the uneven footing was little different from flat ground. There was no escaping.

The men were at an overwhelming disadvantage.

"But compared to clashing with Overnight, a few lizards aren't nothing!"
The men roused themselves, raising their spirits.
Then, without a shred of fear, they charged toward the Half-Orcs before them.

It is widely reported that no warriors display more consistent strength in wetlands than Razors.
In water too shallow for Merfolk to navigate effectively and on footing too unstable for human-types, the Razors' hunched posture and robust tails become potent weapons.
The presence of a transparent nictitating membrane, which keeps their vision clear through any splash, likely contributes significantly to their combat prowess as well.
But.
"Not bad... for a bunch of bandits!"
"Tch, don't act superior just because you're the pawns of some merchants!"
Before they knew it, the engagement had devolved into one-on-one duels.
Most of the remnants—no, most of the bandits—were utterly unable to land a blow against the Razors. Only one man, wielding a winged-blade spear, was different. He understood how to precisely and sharply strike the Razors' weak point: the abdomen.
The Razor squad, which had momentarily pressed its advantage to a 5-on-2 ratio, was cut down by piercing strikes from the winged-blade spear—two fell before only Gash Zappa, who wielded twin tomahawks, remained standing, marking their complete annihilation.

Gash survived thanks to defensive skills that were rare, even unusual, for a user of heavy weaponry. Still, the bandit wielding the Wing-Blade Lance should have been exhausted from the combat, dashing across the water's surface like a river cicada.

Gash threw his axe, determined not to let him regain any stamina.

"Tch!!"

The bandit didn't block with the Wing-Blade Lance; instead, he dodged by hurling his body low toward the water's surface.

A tomahawk strike that blew up the river's surface.

But immediately, Gash reeled the tomahawk back. The twin tomahawks were a family heirloom, connected by a thin yet incredibly strong cord known as "Silk Chain," sometimes referred to as a Dragon's Secret Treasure. In this rain, it might have looked like the bandit was pulling them back with magic.

Gash used both tomahawks as shields to deflect the bandit's lance thrusts. Fortunately for Gash, despite his lizardman strength, the bandit couldn't muster enough force to pierce through the forged tomahawks.

It was a cycle of repetition.

The bandit knew he couldn't escape by running; Gash would catch him. Gash swore on the pride of the National Army that he wouldn't let him get away.

Time flowed through the stagnant battlefield of these two.

Then, a sign of reinforcements appeared.

Lightning was approaching.

"Heh, your day of reckoning has come, rotten bandit!"

"...Is it?"

The bandit grinned with his mud-streaked face.

Gash concluded it was braggadocio born from the complacency of believing reinforcements were close.

As if to strip away that false bravado, Gash unleashed his trump card.

"At least let me kill you easily!"

He threw both tomahawks with all his might.

"Hiahaha!!"

The man twisted to dodge the axes... and then, corrected by the ultra-thin "Silk Chain" stretched between them, he fell backward.

Gash surged forward. His last weapon was a horizontal slash of his tail, honed through the tribe's ancient martial arts, possessing enough power to snap a tree thick as an embrace.

Just as he meant to strike the man with it, a fist-sized rock flew toward Gash from beyond the rain.

"!!"

Gash involuntarily checked his momentum, catching the stone in his hand.

Beyond the rain, one of the bandit's comrades—who Gash had thought he'd defeated—had climbed onto the bank and thrown the rock with a makeshift sling made from his belt.

Before bitter thoughts could take hold, the bandit directly in front of Gash sprang up quickly, raising the Wing-Blade Lance from the water.

"!!"

Zakuri.

Gash's tail was severed.

The blade sliced in from the soft, underside flank, leaving just a single layer of skin to dangle in the air.

"Gh... aaaah!?"

Even a tail was an organ with blood flowing through it. Gash collapsed as a geyser of blood sprayed out.

"...I win, you lizard."

The bandit with the Wing-Blade Lance stood up and grinned.

Gash pounded the riverbed with his fist. A real lizard might have lost its tail and kept running nonchalantly, but a lizardman's tail was too highly developed to be that casual. He was on the verge of passing out from the pain. He had no more weapons.

The moment he let his guard down, defeat was sealed.

"Cu... ss... aaah."

He waited for the killing blow.

...But it didn't come.

"...?"

He raised his head. The Winged Blade Spear thief was gone.

All around him lay a pile of corpses, and nothing else but the torrential rain.

The thief had deemed Gash incapable of tracking him in this weather and fled into the depths with the survivors.

"……Damn it… damn you…!!"

Agony.

The loss of blood.

Humiliation.

Within his fading consciousness, Gash let out a shriek laced with hot, bitter emotion.

"Damn youuuuuuuu!!! "

And he collapsed onto the riverbed.

Even for a Lizardman in water, hemostasis is diminished. Knowing that this would cost him his life, he had become reckless with sheer humiliation.

◇◇◇

A rainbow hung against the backdrop of the dawn sky.

When the intense rains of the wet season cease, a thick, beautiful rainbow can sometimes be seen.

Lizardman oral tradition held that its seven-colored form was the afterimage and flight path of the Origin Dragon, the ancient progenitor who gave birth to their kind.

It was said the Origin Dragon loved the race it had created.

That even in death, it became a spirit, escorting Lizardmen to the afterlife on ships to paradise with a kiss at the moment of their passing.

"……Is this my reception…?"

Gash gazed up at the rainbow and murmured.

He thought that was fine. He, Gash Zappa, a Lizardman soldier, had died in battle against a powerful foe.

It was easiest to believe he had perished from that single blow.

However, that comfortable delusion was met with a voice laughing through its nose.

"Hah, the story about lizards riding rainbows to paradise? Don't make me imagine it, it's disgusting."

"Who the hell is this bastard!"

Gash widened his eyes in surprise and lifted his head.

Gash prided himself on having less prejudice against other races than most Lizardmen who holed up in their colonies, though he certainly didn't find them sexually attractive either. Skin without scales or color gradients held no allure for him, and he preferred faces that looked more reptilian.

That was the case, at least.

But here was a naked girl, apparently of the Human race, straddling his waist and pulling back her hair, and to his surprise, he felt a throb of lust.

"……Wow, it got big."

"!?"

The girl spoke with zero seduction in her voice, phrasing it as if describing an insect's movement.

In that instant, Gash realized one of his hemipenes was inserted inside her.

"What… w-what are you doing?!"

"Saving a life. …Wow, wow, wait, is it still getting bigger?! Does it usually get this big?!"

"N-no, wait a sec!!"

Gash was confused. Feeling lust toward a Human was a first for him, as was waking up to find he had already been having sex. And the fact that, despite being near death, he felt surprisingly energetic was another miscalculation; he had no idea what was going on.

This man was used to inconvenient miscalculations, but this was an experience in reverse for him.

"…Ugh, forget it, just let me finish!!"

In his confusion, he decided to completely surrender to instinct. Having already decided he was dead, rational handling of the situation seemed ridiculous by comparison.

"Huh? Huh?"

The girl was in a complete state of panic, her body reacting to the hemipenes—both external and internal—that had swelled with rapid, violent erections. She hadn’t imagined for a moment that once Gash woke up, his eyes would go wide and bloodshot as he demanded sex right off the bat.

Without warning, Gash grabbed the girl by her waist and arms, forcefully thrusting one of his fully engorged bifurcated penises back and forth against her. There was no romantic atmosphere or foreplay—just a brutal, forced reverse cowgirl position.

“N-no... it hurts... w-wait up, this is... !?”

“What are you acting so innocent for when you’ve got a stranger’s dick down your throat?!”

“No, h-hey, that’s not... ugh, don’t! ...!!”

The girl slapped Gash across the face with her free hand.

Gash didn’t flinch. He continued pounding his hips up and down with heavy, labored breaths. Being a Lizardman who could brace himself with both legs and his tail, he was a natural at delivering hard upward thrusts.

She realized mid-thrust that her tail was missing from the middle section out. It dawned on her in a daze: this wasn’t heaven, and that battle hadn’t been a dream.

The girl had been slapping Gash’s face repeatedly, pat pat, but she seemed to give up—no, it seemed like she was getting off—and stopped hitting him.

“Y-you idiot... stupid lizard, ungrateful bastard...!”

“Hah, hah... what do I know? Not my problem. It’s indecent of a little slutty girl to start doing perverted things while the person is slowly dying...!!”

“...I’m going to make you do deep kowtows later, you hear me?! ...!!”

“I said it doesn’t matter!! Ugh, this feels so good. Your womb!”

It was a rape by any definition. Gash ruthlessly ground his penis against the girl’s twitching vagina as she writhed and squirmed in agony.

He had mated with female Lizardmen before, but the sensation was completely different.

His instincts commanded him. He wanted to empty himself into the girl’s womb. He wanted to lay eggs deep inside her.

He wanted to force her to cluck out eggs imbued with his essence one after another.

Pre-cum began to overflow from the penis that was outside, and Gash slammed that one against her belly just as hard as he pounded his hips, finally climaxing.

“Guh, ohhhh!!”

“Nnhhh... n-no... ah, it hurts... ah... hahhh!!”

He ejaculated massive amounts of seed onto her womb pocket and her belly simultaneously.

Deep inside the womb pocket, onto her belly, onto her navel, onto her breasts, onto her nipples, onto her chin, onto her collarbones.

A viscous amount of semen, surprising even himself, shot out in a flood.

“No, idiot... my stomach is going to burst...!!”

The girl sweated profusely with pain and pleasure, beads of fat-sweat beading on her skin.

She was enduring the repeated cycle of her lower abdomen swelling weirdly as it deflated along the shaft of his penis, which was stabbed into the os uteri by a member that had grown larger than expected, while being persistently flooded with an impossible volume of sticky semen for a human.

“Hah... hah... you’re a good one, human female...”

Gash still seemed ready to keep going. Since he thought he was dead, there was no need to think about anything else. Or so he told himself—he just didn’t want to think about it.

However, the girl finally punched him in the face with a fist.

“Not... not human!! I’m an elemental spirit! A water element!!”

“...Hah?”

—a legend passed down through the lake and swamp regions.
Somewhere in the swamps of this region lives a water elemental.
Its power can sometimes surpass even that of dragons, and it is described as being identical to nature itself. People must revere that power and be grateful for being kept alive. Otherwise, this region would dry up just like the northern Russell Desert, becoming a barren land inhabited only by desert lizards and monsters────.

“Why are you fucking a water elemental, dumbass?”
“You saved my life and you’re talking like that?!”
The naked girl, now freed from between Gash’s legs, was furious, puffing up with anger.
“That was just a convenient position to send 'ki'! I don’t need some lizard-man offspring of yours!”
“...Mmm”

I had heard of it.

The Art of the Boudoir.

A bogus health regimen employed by a select few dark elves and female ogres.

I had always assumed it was nothing more than exaggerated advertising from the sex industry.

I hadn’t imagined that it would be something I could use to save myself.

“...So, uh... what is it? Why did you save me?”

“Is there a rule against saving someone?”

“There are plenty of others who died besides you.”

Gash wasn't particularly special among lizardmen. He wasn’t the strongest, and his lineage wasn't particularly noble either.

“It smelled like something from the past.”

“Hah?”

“The scent. That’s all. Also, you happened to be dying right where I was standing.”

“I... don’t get it.”

“Does it matter? It doesn't.”

Gash felt a bout of dizziness at her audacity after she had just saved him.

“But if you want to repay the debt,”

The girl bonked Gash on the head with a stick (she had picked it up because hitting it didn't work).

“Cooperate a little. Gash Zapper.”

“Hah?”

“I, see, I want to watch the Spirit Festival.”

“The... Spirit Festival?”

A festival held nationwide once every six months to express gratitude to the spirits of heaven and earth.

Originally, it was supposed to be a raucous party dedicated to the spirits.

“You don’t know about that? You haven’t seen those things?”

“How could I see them if I didn't go there? The core elements of spirits can't really move in directions they prefer on their own.”

“…………”

Spirits were recognized within the country as an omnipresent existence—present everywhere, yet nowhere to be found.

The shocking fact that this was actually not the case was revealed to Gash, who had taken little interest in it up until now.

“No good?”

A sigh.

“...Fine. I’ll do it. This is a life you picked up off the ground where I dropped it, so consider it paid. ...Where do we go? What do I need to do?”

“Yes! Well, take water from around here, specifically this spot here, and fill some kind of bag or container with it...”

◇◇◇

Time passed since that scorching summer day, and the season for the Spirit Festival arrived once again.
“The time is coming when you can see what you want, Heely”
“Yeah”
In a cheap tavern located in a certain city situated between a desert and a lake-maraish.
A lizardman without a tail and a beautiful elf girl with an oddly strong presence were sitting together, drinking sake.
Gash Zapper and Heely Water. A retired soldier and a pseudo half-elf.
The water spirit, who had taken to calling herself a half-elf because humans could barely use magic and thus displayed their long ears, but also so she wouldn't be troubled by genuine elves asking about her background, had somehow become Gash's good partner, despite his hot-headedness.

"……Hey, once the Spirit Festival is over……"
Before Gash could finish asking what they were going to do, Heely struck him with a solid pok on the head using that short staff she'd made from a tree branch back then. She let out a small smile and held up her index finger.
"We don't talk about how things end before a fun festival even begins."
"Even if you say that, doesn't that mean we can't even discuss what's coming next year?"
"Mm. The most I can say right now is……"
She leaned in close.
"Something like 'What are we doing tonight?' at best."
"……This lusty spirit," he muttered.
"Don't some lecherous lizardman up the wick every single night, or is it?"
Despite their constant bad-mouthing and insults, the two of them looked surprisingly happy.

(To be continued)

A 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)

A heavy downpour, like rain pounding the earth.

In the dense, overgrown tropical forest, several figures dashed through, their footsteps splashing and clattering loudly.

Amid occasional flashes of lightning, they ran relentlessly, shouting something indistinct.

Their tattered clothes and the occasional sight of bloodstains on them showed that they were survivors of defeat.

Ahead, the landscape suddenly opened up.
It was a shallow river.

It wasn’t always there—it was also a path for people during the dry season.

The defeated men clicked their tongues and turned to look behind them.

There, lightning flashed repeatedly, as if slowly closing in on them.

With no other choice, they stepped into the shallow, swift-flowing river.
"Finally."

Before the men could cross, something rose from the water with a soft ripple.
Five of them.

They halted their crossing and, through the veil of rain, prepared themselves for the enemy’s appearance.

Standing there were monstrous lizardmen, their red eyes glowing in the twilight rain.
"Tch."
"Lizardmen!!"

The defeated men staggered in the swift current of the river, each wielding their own weapon.

Broadsword, short sword, winged spear.

Their weapons, clearly suited for a light and mobile force, were ideal for this region with poor footing and soldiers rarely wearing armor.
But.

"Is that all you could bring? How pitiful."

The lizardmen mocked, drawing their own weapons.

Great axes, spiked balls, or two large tomahawks.

The defeated men gasped in horror.

Even without armor, the lizardmen’s scales could withstand and deflect even clumsy attacks. And their heavy weapons could crush any defense before they could even think of using fine techniques like swordsmanship.

Moreover, the rocky footing of the river was no different for the lizardmen with their thick tails and low center of gravity. There was no escaping.
The men were overwhelmingly outmatched.

"But compared to fighting Overnights, a few lizards are nothing!"
The men rallied their spirits.

And they charged fearlessly at the demi-humans in front of them.

It was common knowledge that lizardmen were the most reliable and stable fighters in the swamp.

The depth is too shallow for a merman to move, and the footing is unstable for humans. In such a place, a lizardman’s ungainly posture and strong tail become powerful weapons.

The existence of its transparent inner eyelids that do not block its vision in any splash of water also contributes to its combat prowess.
But.

"You’re good… For a mere bandit!!"

"Damn it, don’t act all high and mighty just because you’re a pawn of merchants!!"

Before I knew it, we were one-on-one.

Most of the stragglers… no, the bandits had no chance against the lizardmen, but there was one man who wielded a winged spear. He had mastered the art of precisely and sharply striking at the lizardmen’s weakness—their bellies.

The lizardman squad, which had once cornered the bandits 5 to 2 in an instant, was now reduced to just Gash Zapper, a twin tomahawk user. The rest were pierced by the winged spear and fell one after another, leaving only him alive.

Gash had survived because he was unusually skilled in defensive techniques for a wielder of heavy weapons. Still, the bandit, who had been leaping across the water like a water strider while fighting, must have been exhausted.

Gash hurled his axe to prevent him from recovering his strength.
"Tch!!"

The bandit didn’t try to block with the winged spear but instead threw himself into the water to dodge it.

A tomahawk strike that exploded on the surface of the river.

But Gash immediately pulled back his tomahawk. The twin tomahawks, which were also a family heirloom and said to be a dragon’s treasure, were connected by a strong yet slender cord called the "Silk Chain." In this rain, it might have looked like he was pulling them back with magic.

Gash uses both tomahawks as shields to deflect the bandit’s spear strikes. The lizardman’s strength doesn’t seem powerful enough to pierce his forged tomahawks, which is a relief for Gash.
This repeated pattern.

The bandit knows that if they run away, Gash will catch up to them. Gash, driven by pride in the national army, won’t let them escape.

Time passes in this stalemate between just the two of them.

Then, a sign of reinforcements arrives.

Lightning approaches.

“Ha, it’s time to pay your taxes, you rotten bandit!”
“…Maybe.”

The bandit grins with a filthy face.

Gash is certain this is just bravado, born of the relief from the approaching reinforcements—or perhaps from their carelessness.

Determined to strip away that facade, Gash unleashes his secret weapon.
“Just die easily!”

He throws both tomahawks with all his strength at once.
“Hyahaha!!”

The man dodges the axes… and then collapses backward, restrained by a thin “silk chain” between them.

Gash charges forward. His final weapon is a horizontal sweep of his tail, forged in ancient tribal martial arts with enough power to even break a large tree.

Just as I was about to attack the man, a fist-sized stone came flying toward me from beyond the rain.
"!!"

I instinctively weakened my momentum and caught the stone in my hand.

As I did, I saw one of the bandits I thought I’d defeated climbing ashore from beyond the rain, using a makeshift sling he’d made from his belt to hurl it back at me.

Before I could even process this, the bandit standing in front of me quickly got up and raised a winged spear from the water.
"!!"

The blade sliced through my tail, zakuri.

The blade cut through the soft underside, leaving only a single layer of skin flapping in the air.
"Guh… ahhh!?"

Even though it was just my tail, it was still a living organ. Blood gushed out as I fell to the ground.
"...I win, you lizard."

The bandit with the winged spear stood up and grinned.

I slammed my fist into the riverbed. If I were a real lizard, I’d probably be fine losing my tail and keep running around, but as a lizardman, it was different—my tail had grown too much to just let it go. The pain made me feel like I might pass out. I no longer had any weapons.

I was already defeated the moment I let my guard down.
"Damn… oh."
I waited for the final blow.
...But it never came.
"...?"

I looked up. The bandit with the winged spear was gone.

All that remained were the piles of corpses and the heavy rain.

The bandits declared Gash had no tracking ability and fled with the survivors.

"...Damn... damn it...!!"
Severe pain.
Loss of blood flow.
Humiliation.

In his fading consciousness, Gash screamed with a hot, bitter emotion.

"Damn youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!"
And then he collapsed onto the riverbed.

Even for a Lizardman, hemostatic ability weakens in water. Knowing this could cost him his life, Gash still felt so humiliated that he had thrown caution to the wind.
◇◇◇

A rainbow was visible against the dawn sky.

When the intense rain of the rainy season subsides, a thick and beautiful rainbow sometimes appears.

In the oral tradition of the Lizardmen, it was said that the seven-colored form was the afterimage or trail of the primal dragon that gave birth to the Lizardman race.

It was said that the primal dragon loved the race it had created—the Lizardmen.

Even in death, as a spirit, it would guide the Lizardman to paradise with a kiss at the moment of their passing.
"...Is this my welcoming?"

Gash muttered while looking up at the rainbow.

He thought it was fine. The Lizardman soldier, Gash Zapper, had died in battle against a formidable foe.

The easiest thing to think was that I had died from that one blow.

However, a voice scoffed at Gash’s pleasant delusion.

“Hah, the lizard riding a rainbow to paradise? Don’t make me imagine it, it’s gross.”
“What the hell are you doing, you bastard?”

Gash couldn’t help but widen his eyes and lift his head.

Gash thought of himself as someone who wasn’t particularly prejudiced against other races, unlike the lizardmen who had stayed holed up in their colonies. That said, he wasn’t exactly a thrill-seeker who lusted after other races. Smooth skin with no scales or gradients was hardly alluring, and his preference for lizard-like features extended to faces as well.
Or so he thought.

But when the girl sitting astride him, who seemed human, ran her hand through her hair, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire that he couldn’t suppress.
“…Whoa, it’s getting bigger.”
“!?”

The girl said it as if something as simple as a bug moving had happened, with no hint of allure.

In that moment, Gash realized that one of his hemipenes was already inside her.

“What… what the hell are you doing!?”

“Saving a life. …Whoa, whoa, it’s still getting bigger, or wait, is it this big!?”
“W-wait, hold on!”

Gash was in a state of confusion. Not only had he never felt desire for humans before, but also, waking up and finding himself having sex was a first. And to make matters worse, even though he should have been near death, he surprisingly felt surprisingly energetic, which was completely unexpected. He didn’t know what was going on.

This man was used to dealing with inconvenient surprises, but this was the first time he’d experienced something entirely unexpected in return.

"...Ugh, just let me do it already!!"

And as a result of the confusion, I decided to completely rely on instinct. Since I’d already given up and thought I was dead, it seemed silly to try to handle things rationally.
"Wha—? Wha—?"

The girl was flustered by the sudden swelling of both her internal and external hemipenis, but she didn’t seem to expect Gash to suddenly wake up with bloodshot eyes and demand sex.

He grabbed her waist and arms, then began thrusting back and forth on one of the two swollen penises. It was a rough, forced cowgirl position, with no room for atmosphere or subtlety.

"Ow... w-wait, this is...!?"

"You’re acting all high and mighty after suddenly shoving someone else’s dick in your mouth!?"

"H-hey, that’s not right... ugh, stop...!!"

The girl slapped Gash across the nose with her free hand.

Gash didn’t seem fazed at all and kept thrusting. As a lizardman who could maintain his position with both legs and his tail, he was good at giving strong, deep thrusts.

She realized halfway through that she didn’t have her tail anymore and vaguely understood that this wasn’t heaven and that the battle wasn’t a dream.

The girl kept slapping Gash’s nose, but after a while... or maybe because she was starting to feel it... she stopped.

"Stupid... stupid lizard, you ungrateful bastard...!"

"Haa, haa... Know it? Know it, my ass! While someone’s slowly dying, you’re suddenly doing something lewd and disrespectful, you little bitch...!!"

"...R-really, I’m gonna make you bow your head to me later...!!"

"Know it, huh?! Ahh, it feels so good, your womb!!"

It was practically rape now, Gash rubbing his penis mercilessly against the squirming girl’s vagina.

I’d had sex with a few lizardmen women before, but this felt completely different from that.

Instinct commanded. I wanted to pour myself into her. I wanted to make her lay eggs from deep within her womb.

I wanted to make her lay eggs filled with my seed, one after another.

Precum began to overflow from his penis, and Gash thrust his other penis against the girl’s stomach while pounding his hips hard, finally climaxing.

"Ngh, oooooohhh!!"

"Nnnn... W-wait, ...this is too tight... haahh!!"

He poured his seed both into her womb and onto her stomach, filling her pouch and her belly at the same time.

Deep within her womb, on her stomach, her navel, her breasts, her nipples, her chin, her collarbone.

An unexpectedly large amount of sticky semen gushed out.

"Y-You idiot... I’m going to burst...!"

The girl’s face twisted with pain as sweat beaded on her forehead.

The girl was enduring the repeated sensation of the overly enlarged penis thrusting into her cervix, and even more persistently being filled with an unnatural amount of thick semen that no ordinary human could produce. The area below her navel swelled strangely, then drained down the shaft of the penis—this cycle repeated over and over.

"Haah... haah... A-human female... it’s so good..."

Gash was still fully intent on continuing. He thought he’d died, so he had no need to think about anything else. Or rather, he didn’t want to.

But the girl finally struck him with a fist.

"You’re not human!! I’m a water spirit!!"
"...Huh?"
——A legend passed down in the swampy region.

In some marsh somewhere in this area, there is a water spirit.

Its power can sometimes surpass even that of dragons, and it’s said to embody nature itself.

People must respect its power and be grateful for being allowed to live. Otherwise, this region would dry up like the northern Lassell desert, becoming a barren land inhabited only by lizards and monsters——

"Why is that water spirit having sex with a lizardman, you idiot?"

"Hey, you! You just saved my life, and that’s the thanks I get!?"

The naked girl, freed from Gash’s crotch, was pouting in anger.

"That position was just convenient for sending ‘ki’ energy, that’s all. I don’t need your sperm or anything!"
"...Hmph."
I’ve heard of it before.
The Art of the Chamber.

A ridiculous health-enhancing method used by some dark elves and ogre women.

I always thought it was just some exaggerated advertising from the adult industry.

I never thought I’d be saved by it.

"...So, uh... why did you save me?"
"Is it wrong to save you?"

"There were plenty of others who died, weren’t there?"

Gash isn’t any special lizardman. He’s not the strongest lizardman, and his lineage isn’t particularly prestigious.

"...I just smelled something nostalgic."
"Huh?"

"The smell. That’s all. And you were dying right where I happened to be."
"...I don’t get it at all."

"Doesn’t matter, does it?"

"What the hell is this, helping someone and then saying something like that?" Gash felt dizzy.
"But if you feel indebted to me..."

The girl hit Gash on the head with a tree branch (since hitting him with her hand had no effect, she picked it up).

"Then lend me a hand. Gash Zapper."
"Huh?"
"I want to see the Spirit Festival."
"...The Spirit Festival?"

It was a festival held once every six months across the entire country, a celebration of thanking the spirits of heaven and earth.

Originally, it was supposed to be a wild, spirited affair dedicated to the spirits.

"...Wait, you haven’t seen that Spirit Festival thing before?"

"You can't see it unless you go there. The spirit core elements aren’t very good at moving on their own to where they want to go."
"...…………"

In Japan, spirits are recognized as ubiquitous beings that exist everywhere and nowhere.

The shocking truth that this wasn’t entirely accurate was revealed to Gash, who hadn’t been particularly interested in it before.
"Can’t you?"
Sigh.

"...Alright. It’s my life that you saved, so I’ll give it to you. ...Where do you want to go? What should we do?"

"Yay! So, like, scoop up some water from around here... put it into a bag or something..."
◇◇◇

Time has passed since that day in midsummer, and the season of the spirit festival is upon us.

"Another season is coming soon, Healy."
"Yeah."

A low-rent bar located between the desert and a lake.

A tailless lizardman and an oddly strikingly beautiful elf girl were sitting together drinking alcohol.

Gash Zapper and Healy Water. A retired soldier and a half-elf who claimed to be half-elf.

Humans, unable to use magic much, grew their ears long to show off, but since they couldn’t reveal their true nature to real elves, they began calling themselves half-elves. Over time, the water spirit, who was good at showing off, had become a reliable partner for Gash, who tended to get worked up easily.

"...Hey, after the spirit festival is over..."

As Gash was about to say, "What are we going to do?" Hilly, with her little stick made from a branch of the tree from that day, gave him a light tap and smiled faintly, raising her index finger.

"Don’t talk about what happens before or after the fun festival starts."

"I mean, if you say that, we can’t even talk about next year, can we?"

"Yeah. The most we can do right now is…"
She brought her lips closer to his.

"Maybe ask, 'What are we going to do tonight?'"
"...You perverted spirit."

"You’re just like that perverted lizardman who always prepared stuff every night, aren’t you?"

While constantly cursing under their breath, the two of them surprisingly seemed happy.
(To be continued)