What exactly was he? A crocodile, an alligator, or something completely different?
The memory of the enormous tentacles that had embraced and torn the ship apart crossed his mind, making him doubt whether he could even recognize himself as an animal similar to those he had once known.
In front of his reflection, a floating screen appeared, displaying characters that, although Feinth had never seen before, he could read without difficulty.
...
[Name]: Feinth
[Race]: Lesser Drake
[Level]: 1
[Stats]
Vitality (HP): 50/50 [F]
Mana (MP): 0/0 [F]
Strength (STR): 7 [F]
Defense (DEF): 15 [F]
Speed (SPD): 8 [F]
Intelligence (INT): 0 [F]
Endurance (RES): 15 [F]
[Skills]
Lesser Dragon Scales (Lv1)
Type: Passive
Description: Small dragon scales partially cover your body, offering weak defense against attacks.
Effect: Slightly increases Defense and Endurance.
Survival Instinct (Lv1)
Type: Passive
Description: An instinctive reflex that allows you to stay alert to danger.
...
Could he have reincarnated? Was this what they called the legendary golden finger?
Although he could not remember who he was or what he had done in his previous life, the feeling of recognizing what was happening to him as the scenario of a work of fiction was too strong to ignore.
He did not know how to define himself; he lacked the information to compare. He seemed to be some subtype of newborn dragon, and so he doubted he was very strong.
At the very least, he seemed to have a constitution that was difficult to bring down. His two skills were focused on survival, which did not displease him.
His attention turned to the two stats that stood at zero.
"Mana? Could it mean that magic exists in this world?!"
Growl.
The sudden sound startled him. He looked in every direction, paranoid, trying to find the source.
Growl!
It was his stomach.
He was hungry—too hungry to think clearly.
"I should eat something before worrying about this," he thought, though he did not even know what he should look for.
He turned toward the sea, considering fishing for something. However, he discarded the idea almost immediately. He had no idea what creatures inhabited those waters, and after what he had seen the previous night, he had no desire to find out.
Then he turned his gaze to the island. Beyond the beach, enormous trees rising like skyscrapers dominated the landscape, brimming with vibrant vitality. The possibility of finding some fruit there seemed much more plausible.
Unfortunately, after considering it for a few minutes, he also discarded that idea.
Such large flora would surely harbor equally imposing fauna.
Feinth felt somewhat smaller than when he had been human. Still, it was not something exaggerated. The grains of sand were still tiny to his eyes, and that thought would not change until he could compare himself to a real human.
Lastly, his gaze fell on the eggs stranded on the beach. They were colorful, as if someone had painted them in fluorescent tones to celebrate Easter. There had to be at least twenty of them, all colossal in size; some were even larger than he was.
He swallowed heavily as his mouth began to drool uncontrollably. From deep within his gut, a growl of excitement shook him like never before—a primal, instinctive response, as if a feast had been laid before someone who had gone days without eating.
He approached one of the eggs, raising one of his claws with the intention of smashing it against the shell and devouring whatever was inside. Yet, at the very last instant, the sliver of sanity he had left managed to take control.
He stopped and observed more carefully.
Although his body screamed at him to continue and eat what those eggs contained, his mind forcefully rejected the idea. Judging by the fact that he himself had emerged from an egg stranded on the beach, could these eggs not belong to his own kin? And even if they did not, would they not carry the equivalent of babies within?
That thought made him recoil, and the hunger seemed to diminish—at least in his mind.
His last alternative was to search among the remains of the shipwreck for something useful.
Most of the fragments were destroyed, and it was most likely that anything valuable had been ruined by the salt water. Even so, he did not give up.
"Damn it, how much does this weigh?" he muttered to himself as he tried to move a timber that covered what appeared to be a crate in good condition.
The timber was a little smaller than he was, but when he tried to lift it, he realized it was completely impossible. Frustrated, he decided to try with a splinter of wood no larger than his palm.
"Impossible…" He barely managed to lift the splinter ten centimeters off the ground before being forced to let it fall. Feinth began to doubt his own eyes when he noticed how the sand rose under the weight of that small fragment of the ship.
It was clearly a piece of wood, but its weight and consistency seemed more similar to that of high-density metals.
Wasn't this a bit excessive?
Annoyed, he abandoned the idea of discovering what was inside the crate, at least for now.
After exploring a small portion of the beach, he finally found something to eat.
Buried in the sand, exposing only their shells that somehow blended in with the color of the surroundings, what seemed to be crabs were sunbathing quietly.
Feinth would never have noticed their existence if not for accidentally stepping on one. Before he could react, the creature used its claw to grab his tail and squeeze it tightly.
The pain was so intense it brought tears to his eyes.
Those damned things were small, no bigger than his claw, yet they had surprising strength for their size.
Driven by pain, Feinth grabbed the crustacean and pulled hard. It was firmly latched on, and as he applied more force he went too far, tearing it from its claw, which, to his frustration, did not loosen in the slightest. To make matters worse, the crab used its other claw to cling to his palm.
Fortunately, his scales were resistant enough to prevent the pincers from piercing through, but that did not make the situation any less irritating.
Tired of struggling, he shoved the entire crab into his mouth and chewed.
Beneath his teeth, the exoskeleton turned out to be surprisingly soft, almost like butter. Crunchy on the outside, tender and juicy inside, the seafood flavor was strong yet pleasant, despite being uncooked.
If anyone had asked him, he would have said it was one of the best crabs he had ever tasted in his life… or at least in his previous one.