How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony

The third day had come.

This meant three days had passed since the coastal villagers had evacuated to the inside of the circle drawn by a man.

When morning came, people slowly woke up. After living without going outside the circle for three days, everyone showed clear signs of fatigue and exhaustion.

As usual, they rubbed their eyes as they got up, exchanging greetings asking if others had slept well or if their mouths had become crooked.

They passed time with some small talk, tended to simple tools, and ate light snacks they had prepared in advance...

Then they suddenly realized.

That when they woke up in the morning, it wasn't the same as yesterday and the day before.

That when they woke up in the morning, they all woke up because they couldn't bear the brightness of the shining sunlight.

Looking up, they saw the sun had reclaimed its throne in the sky, driving away the gray clouds.

Looking around, they saw the world had stopped being a hazy mass and was regaining its separate colors.

Looking at each other...

They were all alive.

The storm had ended.

Everyone looked at the scene in a daze. They stroked the grass that had regained its blue-green color and deeply inhaled the air that no longer smelled of water and blood.

Only then did people realize.

"Uh, uhh...?"

"...Ah!"

They had survived.

Everyone's reactions were different.

Some cried thinking of their lost village and their companion dogs who must have died.

Some gathered the food and tools they had barely managed to bring out and sighed in relief.

Some embraced their children who had stopped crying and followed Sassunan outside the circle, stepping on the ground and becoming intoxicated by the sensation.

Others sighed, worrying about lost property and how they would live from now on.

And they were all grateful to have survived.

Grateful for the blessing of life.

They weren't fools. And they certainly weren't ungrateful people who didn't know kindness.

That's why, from the moment they realized they had survived, people's gazes gradually began to converge on one spot.

Those who had dispersed to briefly savor life gathered again around the man lying in the center of the circle.

They looked down at the man.

Looking down at the man who had slept oblivious to the world for three days, they exchanged various conversations and organized different thoughts in their minds.

They carefully placed their ears against his chest one by one, and placed their fingers on his wrist.

His pulse was beating.

He too was alive.

Not a single person inside this circle had died.

They slowly lifted his body up over their heads.

They carefully moved him.

So that his sleep wouldn't be disturbed.

Very carefully.

==

As the cart raced madly and then braked suddenly, the entire body creaked and groaned as if it would break apart.

While the coachman made a strained sound and looked troubled, the passenger hurriedly got off and ran. There wasn't even time to thank the coachman for his trouble.

He ran breathlessly into the village. When some people who recognized him approached and waved, the man went to them and eagerly grabbed their hands.

"H-h-he...?"

"Raleigh, w-why are you like this? Please calm down."

"This is not a situation to be calm about. Him...? Is he here?"

The man's, Walter Raleigh's, eyes were bloodshot.

In the days just before the storm hit, he had gathered surrounding tribes to the safe zone and saved hundreds. People were grateful to him and gave him all sorts of treasures as gifts.

But those countless thanks and gifts meant little to him. It was because he had heard shocking news.

"That... large blue-painted cart flipped over and then flames erupted. When I heard the news and went to check in surprise... I could only see the ashes that remained after burning and rough wheel tracks."

"I saw the scene before that! 'He' crawled out of the overturned cart before it burst into flames!"

"And he ran away. Though he was covered in wounds, amazingly those wounds seemed to heal immediately..."

A large blue-painted cart.

He who was covered in wounds but those wounds healed immediately.

This was the story of 'Him.'

As soon as he heard this story, Raleigh instantly guessed what had happened, and because of that, he hadn't been able to sleep properly for the past few days.

As soon as the storm ended, Raleigh rushed south with a cart, and at the end of that roughly paved road, he saw wheel tracks that had roughly scraped the ground and burn marks.

Traces of something burned remained here and there, but no other debris was visible. Raleigh could immediately picture what had happened.

It had melted.

The Porter, and all His other sacred tools.

They probably returned to Croatoan Island. Thinking this, everything became clear.

He currently has 'nothing,' just His bare body.

He might not even have proper clothes. The thought gave Raleigh goosebumps, and he rushed for several more days.

"I-I'll ask again. Is 'He,' the Great Chief of us all and not a human being, here? Please answer me!"

And so he came here.

Raleigh's heart became urgent.

The village was in ruins, and moreover, due to the semi-nomadic nature of the residents, not many stayed in the village, so there was no way to know how many had survived.

Let alone knowing whether He had succeeded in saving this village, Raleigh couldn't even know if He was properly here.

To such a Raleigh, the villagers, though perplexed, pointed to one place. His eyes fell on a large hut that had been temporarily rebuilt. It was probably the chief's house.

"Th-thank you!"

Without time to ask detailed circumstances, he gave a brief greeting and ran again. While running, he quickly arranged his hair and clothes and showed the proper respect to meet 'Him.'

And as he carefully lifted the cloth covering the entrance...

"...Ah, Walter?"

A man appeared.

A man quietly looking at the stream of sunlight seeping into the dark interior of the hut, with a blanket covering his legs.

As always, with a gently calm smile, He turned to look at Raleigh as if He had been waiting.