Chapter 159 - The Great Snail Empire (2)

In the beginning was 'Raim.'

The people knew not whence 'Raim' came nor whither 'Raim' went. Yet 'Raim' chose the foremost among the peoples, and bestowed proof upon them, that they might know themselves to be the chosen stock.

"Though the peoples beneath heaven be many and manifold, you alone can pronounce the two syllables of 'Raim' in full. To you alone shall I grant leave to speak the holy name. Ah! This shall be your power. Take 'Raim' as proof that you have been chosen. Whether eating or shitting, dressing or undressing, falling asleep or waking, recite 'Raim' always, that you may bear witness to my existence at the heart of your lives and voices..."

"... What the hell is this bullshit?"

The Inquisitor beamed at my question.

"It is the holy scripture I created!"

"Holy scripture?"

"Yes! The Mountain Snailfolk have very peculiar vocal organs. Of the seven races, only the Mountain Snailfolk can pronounce [Raim]! That is why I chose this sound as the name of God."

The Inquisitor landed lightly in the underground city with a tap. My companions and I followed him. All smiles, he introduced us to the history of the 'Snail Civilization.'

"Neither the Demonfolk nor the fairy race can pronounce [Raim] correctly! This is simply because their vocal organs differ, but I endowed it with mythological significance."

Snails crawled sluggishly about. They passed right through our bodies, utterly unaware of us, as though we were invisible.

"I told them that their ability to recite [Raim] was proof that heaven had chosen the Mountain Snailfolk!"

"Why...?"

The Paladin spoke up.

"Why would you do such a thing? Inquisitor, you know better than anyone how frightening religion can be. If you carelessly misuse the name of God, things could become irreversible—"

"Oh, I did not carelessly misuse it. I used it deliberately, with the utmost care!"

"..."

"Use is different from misuse, and even more different from abuse."

The Inquisitor smiled.

"Everyone, religion is bound to arise regardless! People are beings who seek causes wherever and whenever they are. They seek the reason for their own existence, the cause of this world's existence. God. That one word is magic that supplies every ultimate cause!"

The Inquisitor pointed to a pillar. An enormous pillar. Standing at the center of the underground city, it rose from the cavern floor and pierced the ceiling.

Pictures resembling Egyptian murals lined it. The 'holy scripture' I had just read was carved into this very pillar.

"But..."

"Paladin. I understand the point you wish to make! But in this era, there is still far too much these people do not know. They do not know why rain falls, why hearts beat, or why they must drink water to live."

A smile curved the Inquisitor's lips.

"Think of that fear."

"Fear...?"

"Yes, fear," the Inquisitor said.

"A heart beats inside their body. They can hear its beating. Yet they cannot know why it beats. When they are wounded, blood flows, and when they lose too much blood, they die. Yet they do not know why blood flows. Why bread tastes good, why satisfying hunger brings happiness, why they must eat salt to survive—they know none of these things."

The Inquisitor clasped his hands as if in prayer.

"To them, the world is surrounded by unknown monsters! Indeed, monsters lurk even inside their own bodies. Knowing nothing, they merely live as life carries them along! Utterly ignorant and powerless in their own lives... Everyone, can you understand their fear?"

CLANG!

The sound of stone being mined came from somewhere. Across the vast cavern, miners were digging out rock salt.

"God dispels this ignorance and powerlessness. Rain is no longer an unknown monster. It is God's tears! The world, too, sheds tears from time to time."

CLANG! CLAAANG! CLANG!

Snail miners dug out rock salt, oozing slime. They gripped pointed stones in their tentacles and swung them.

"Salt is no longer an unknown lump of stone. When the primordial Earth Mother was torn to pieces and died, her hair became the forests, her blood became the sea, and her teeth became salt. Salt is the remains of a god. Therefore it is sacred, and therefore safe to eat. Aha! In today's terms, myths stamp a certificate of hygiene on each food!"

With his hands clasped in prayer, the Inquisitor looked devout. In a gentle voice, he recited like an unceasing stream.

"And God tells them: You were born through me. I care about you, and thus you are beings whom God cares about. Do you understand? Only through God do people finally discover the reason for their lives, a space that had been left blank."

"..."

"Everyone! Imagine it."

The Inquisitor smiled.

"Now the heartbeat they hear within their bodies is no longer the groaning of an unknown monster. God designed people in his own image. Thus this beating is a melody God intended, and wherever I am, at any time, I am listening in on music God composed."

The Inquisitor let out a sigh.

"Isn't it beautiful...?"

The Inquisitor looked around the underground city.

The world he had created.

As he surveyed the civilization the snails had built together, this [little god] was rejoicing.

"Now people cease to be beings who merely live as life carries them along. At last, they escape being insignificant creatures! Finally, their lives have direction."

We were not dropped into this world without any meaning.

We are loved by God.

"Humans ceaselessly build temples. They erect enormous wonders and dedicate them as offerings. They bring down upon this earth proof that God loves them. Isn't it magnificent? Isn't it sublime? Everyone, the humans of this era are courting the world!"

"..."

"All love requires proof. It requires effort. Rather than suffocating beneath their fear, they struggle and fight desperately to win the love of the gods! Even if this love is a dark misunderstanding, people sometimes need misunderstandings in order to live. I bless them!"

The Inquisitor unclasped his praying hands and spread his arms.

"You may consider religion a necessary evil. But every necessary evil is born of a necessary good. These people still need God to be there for them! Because God exists, they breathe, live, and love."

That was the Inquisitor's conviction—and his conception of God.

"Humans are beings who need a reason to love a flower even to shed tears over a single petal. God gives them an infinite number of reasons! The gods of antiquity do not annihilate humanity. Only because God exists can people understand themselves and love the world!"

Silence lingered for a while.

In the distance, the clang, clang of rock salt being mined rang out.

Slowly, I turned my head to survey the 'underground world.'

"Slaves! Get moving! Raim!"

"Your break ended ages ago. Raimu! Hurry up and load it, then take it to the docks!"

Clinging to the stone walls, the snails swung their tentacles.

SMACK!

The slaves carrying pack frames buckled at the knees. Had they already grown accustomed to being whipped? Even as they groaned, they stepped forward again.

"One, two. One, two..."

Among them was the race Viper guided: the Demonfolk, with a single horn set in their foreheads. The dokkaebi were used to carry heavy loads.

"Hiss. Hiss, hiiiss...!"

The race the Paladin guided, the Gillfin Folk, swam in the river leading out of the cavern. The merfolk pulled galleys themselves as they swam, their upper bodies tightly bound with ropes attached to the bows.

"Pirrr! Baa! Pir!"

The race the Black Dragon leader guided, the Bloodsucking Race, flew endlessly about the cavern. The bats clutched rolled-up letters and other miscellaneous objects in their hind feet. From the cavern's west side to its east, they darted every which way, delivering parcels to the inhabitants.

"Ah."

Noticing where I was looking, the Inquisitor smiled.

"This is Raimpolis, the capital of the Slime Civilization. Its specialty is rock salt. According to mythological tradition, this is where the primordial Mother Goddess dropped her head as she died! The Mountain Snailfolk believe this cavern is the Earth Mother's [skull], and the rock salt her [teeth]! Supplying these [holy teeth] throughout the empire is the main industry, and the Mountain Snailfolk control power through the salt trade."

"... Incredible. It's incredible, but even so... Two hundred years?"

The Black Dragon leader groaned.

"It doesn't make sense. How did you endure two hundred years?"

"Hmm? Now that we have entered the mission, aren't we in a kind of spiritual form? A mere two hundred years is simple!"

"No, that's not what I mean... It's two hundred years."

"Yes! All that time, I kept possessing white puppies. When a puppy died, I possessed one of its descendants."

"What I mean is... Never mind."

The Black Dragon leader broke off, looking appalled. Our other companions' expressions were not much different.

Smiling brightly, the Inquisitor continued.

"Thus, puppies of the bloodline I possess are revered as divine beasts! They reside in the imperial palace and the temples. Today, too, the thirty-fourth divine beast died, and I was just about to possess the new thirty-fifth divine beast. But as chance would have it, you returned! Welcome once again. Welcome!"

"..."

My companions fell silent.

Behind the Inquisitor stood the pillar, and beyond it was a sphinx-like statue. In a word, the statue was an enormous Welsh corgi. It gave us a fair idea of what kind of puppy the Inquisitor had been possessing.

And then.

"Kerrrrk!"

An all-too-familiar cry came from somewhere.

"Kerrr, kerk! I dedicate today's glory to our holy White Lion! Kerk!"

"I dedicate my blood to the citizens of great Slimepolis! Gork!"

THUMP! THUMP!

Two goblins struck their shields with their blades. They stood on a flat mudflat. Countless snails surrounded it, cheering.

"Raim! I bet everything I own on you today, you filthy mold!"

"Kirke! Show them what you're made of today! Kill him!"

"Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo!"

Hearing the crowd's cheers, the goblins roared.

"Gooooo!"

Then the goblins charged at each other. Mud splashed. They swung their daggers, battering each other's shields.

CLANG! CLAAANG!

Harsh, frightening metallic crashes rang out. The snail spectators' cheers grew louder.

"Wooo! Woo!"

"You shell-less savage! Swing your forelegs! Raimu! Strike him with your forelegs!"

"What are you doing? Move your feet, you stupid bastard! Raim! Raim!"

For a moment, I was at a loss for words.

"... Gladiators? They're gladiators?"

"Yes!"

The Inquisitor's smile blossomed.

"They are sword slaves!"

A goblin howled and swung his blade. Blood spurted. A red line was drawn across skin his shield had failed to cover, across a body marked with geometric tattoos.

"The Earth Spiritfolk are famous for being both brave and clever! They are the most popular race of sword slaves in Slimepolis—no, throughout the entire Slime Empire."

The wounded goblin screamed. His opponent did not miss the opening. In one motion, he reversed his grip on his blade and drove it into the goblin's throat.

Blood spurted.

The spectators cheered.

"Gooooo!"

At that moment.

[The quest for Floor 32 is issued.]

Letters appeared before my eyes.

+

[The Great Snail Empire - Earth Spiritfolk Chapter]

Difficulty: B+

Mission Objective: The unification of the races is imminent. Leading this unification are the Mountain Snailfolk. With their highly developed system of government and religious organization, they have subjugated the other races as slaves one after another. Left unchecked, they will bring every race to its knees beneath their slime.

You must rescue the Earth Spiritfolk from the Mountain Snailfolk's oppression!

※However, if you fail to guide them, Floor 32 will conclude with the Mountain Snailfolk's victory.

+

The great escape.

That was the mission for this stage.