Chapter 167 - Rain, Mud, and Fire (4)

"Raim! I'll slice off your nose with a single stroke!"

The noble soldier charged in at once.

'Oh?'

This was rather fascinating. He wasn't wielding one or two swords like the Conforming Humans. This was the Four-Sword Style. He swung his blades along four paths—above, below, left, and right.

The variety of attack routes was almost impossible to imitate with a primate's two arms.

'Well, now.'

It was a feat only the Mountain Snailfolk, with their many tentacles, could perform. I'd fought countless battles, but this was my first time seeing [that sort] of swordsmanship from [this sort] of race.

'The upper and lower strikes are feints. Bluffs.'

I quickly sized up his sword strikes by eye.

'The left and right strikes are real... The left is supporting the attack. The right is the main strike. The left sword is a little faster. Okay. If the left gets blocked, he'll immediately slip in from the opposite side.'

"Ahh."

The attendant spirit sighed as though overcome with emotion.

"They say even a snack-shop dog can cook ramen after three years. Kim Zombie. At last, we can actually talk."

'I'm the Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult, old man.'

"Who are you calling old man?"

Anyway... how should I put this?

'It's a little strange how a simple difference in race leads to such different swordsmanship.'

"Huh? Isn't that obvious?"

'Yes. But obvious things feel new when you experience them firsthand. Hmm. This really is the martial art of an unorthodox creature. Maybe it could help me refine the Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven...'

"Well, look at you. Now you're going to study snail swordsmanship too?"

'We'll see.'

I deftly ducked into the gap between his feints. Then, with light taps of my left and right paws, I knocked aside the Mountain Snailfolk's swords.

"Raim?"

The noble's feelers shot straight out, apparently in shock.

'Sorry, kid.'

There was no need even to pit our strength against each other.

'Before skill even enters the equation, it's a matter of the engine.'

The Mountain Snailfolk soldier either couldn't use aura or hadn't yet learned to channel it beyond his tentacles into his blades. The attendant spirit had judged me [talented, at least when it came to controlling internal energy]. It was simply impossible for that soldier to keep up with me.

No matter how superb a rider you were or how fine your horse, you couldn't outrun an airplane flown by a novice pilot.

And I'd long since graduated from being called a novice.

"Y-you evil god! O Raim! Grant me strength!"

The noble swung his swords with even greater fury. It did no good. He couldn't cut so much as the tip of a hair in my mane. I knocked his swords away with lazy taps, almost as though I were playing a rhythm game.

"Kereureup? Keru!"

Of course, that was my leisurely account of things. From Gorke's perspective, swords were whizzing right past his nose.

"Help! Save this goblin! Kekereukker, save me... Wait, isn't this demon Kekereukker? I'm doomed! Gorke is doomed!"

'Tsk, tsk.'

Utterly pathetic.

I'd gone to all that trouble to set up a training ground in his dream. I'd taught him aura. However afraid he was of dying, shouldn't he show a little grit? Suppose, against all odds, his life really was in danger. Surely I would step in and help him.

"Hey, Zombie."

'Yes?'

"The way you've been treating this Gorke goblin, or whatever his name is, is really..."

'Really? Really what?'

"It reminds me of someone teaching someone else... And those two someones seem an awful lot like the two someones right here. Must be my imagination, right?"

'I have no idea what you're talking about. If you're going to spout poetic nonsense, just watch.'

"Yeah... Okay... Now I feel sorry for the goblin for no reason. I've hardly ever felt sorry toward a human in my life, and now the day has come when I feel apologetic toward a goblin..."

What was that ghost on about?

"Grrr."

I devoted myself to defense, merely deflecting the Mountain Snailfolk soldier's swords with my claws. I didn't attack him at all.

I wasn't the one who would defeat this noble. That was Gorke's job.

'And the goblins' job.'

I waited patiently.

"Ker. Kereureuk...?"

How much time had passed?

Sure enough, once Gorke felt that [his life didn't seem to be in immediate danger], he began to relax a little. He stopped pleading and watched the exchange unfolding before him.

"Gereureup..."

'Good.'

Facing things head-on.

The first step was to look squarely at what confronted you.

'That's exactly it.'

I began batting away the snail noble's sword strikes more aggressively.

CLANG!

My claws thrust his swords forcefully aside.

"Raimu?"

For a moment, the Mountain Snailfolk noble's body was wide open. One more swipe of my claws would end it. He would be cut in half at the waist before he even had a chance to block.

But I didn't do that. I stayed still.

"...!"

The noble's face reddened. Mountain Snailfolk skin was somewhat translucent, so a rush of blood showed through to an almost excessive degree.

The noble unleashed a furious barrage of sword strikes.

"A-are you insulting me?"

No.

"Do not dishonor my house! Raim!"

If anyone here deserved abuse, it was me.

'Gorke was a slave until recently, and now he's beginning to face a noble. You're a mortal bravely fighting an evil god. You both deserve praise.'

But me?

I was practically a god in this world, and I was toying with a noble soldier. Mocking the weak from a position of strength violated the Demonic Cult's teachings, and it wasn't mature, either.

'Sorry.'

But it couldn't be helped.

'I'm responsible for these children.'

A good parent doesn't mind enduring insults for their children. A good teacher doesn't hesitate to swallow disgrace for their disciples. Those who believe in something more precious than themselves willingly accept humiliation.

How much more so for a god?

'Right now, I'm a constellation watching over an entire race.'

What did it matter if I endured a little insult or disgrace to care for these children? For those who had lived imprisoned as slaves, I could bear any humiliation involved in setting aside martial honor for a moment.

'Come on, Gorke!'

I happily made myself deserving of abuse.

'And you young goblins! Look! Here is the Mountain Snailfolk you feared. One of the nobles who ruled over you. What do you think?'

Once again, I knocked the noble's swords far aside.

CLANG!

Once again, a path to his chest opened up—the same opening I'd created before, which Gorke had merely stared at.

'Still don't have the confidence to challenge him one-on-one?'

This time was different.

'If you don't, I'll give it to you.'

As though entranced, Gorke moved his arm. Red aura was rising from the young goblin's hand.

THUD!

"Ah?"

A groan escaped; I couldn't tell from whom.

The Mountain Snailfolk noble stared blankly down at his body, and the young Earth Spiritfolk stared dazedly at his hand.

A fist mark.

A red welt stood out on the noble's torso, as clear as a stamped seal.

'Nice shot.'

I smiled inwardly.

'That's what I'm talking about.'

The next moment, the noble doubled over and vomited.

"Bleurgh! Urk, ugh... Bleeuurgh!"

Digestive fluid poured over the head of the hunting dog he rode. Fortunately, Mountain Snailfolk apparently ate plenty of soups, because there were no chunks in the vomit. The hunting dog didn't seem to consider that much of a blessing.

"Woof! Yip, woof!"

The enormous dog's thrashing was equally enormous. It shuddered like a mountain struck by an earthquake, then bolted toward the Mountain Snailfolk ranks. The noble was carried off, clinging tightly to its back.

"Bleeuuurgh!"

Still streaming rainbow-colored vomit as he went.

With a look of disbelief, Gorke clenched and unclenched his fist.

"Goreureuk..."

More challengers followed. Nobles, their private soldiers, senior soldiers confident in their martial skills, and rank-and-file soldiers hoping to strike it rich—a total of eleven Mountain Snailfolk challenged us to duels.

But none could get past my claws. As I'd said, it was a fight in which they could never have kept up with me in the first place.

"..."

The longer the fighting went on, the less Gorke spoke.

"Gorke! Gorke! Gorke!"

And the more victories he strung together, the more ecstatic the goblins became.

'What do you think?'

I deliberately lingered between bouts. Rather than immediately accepting another duel, I slowly paced before the goblins.

Gorke rode on my back, a victorious champion.

'Looks impressive, doesn't he?'

I captured the Earth Spiritfolk's eyes.

'Aren't you envious?'

I tickled the goblins' hearts.

'Don't you want to become like this too?'

I splashed red paint across their souls.

'Cavefire isn't the only beautiful thing in this world. Mud isn't the only thing with a lovely scent. Victory in battle. Accepting a challenge and overcoming it. These are as beautiful as fire, as fragrant as mud.'

The goblins had clearly fallen for the beauty of duels and become intoxicated by the fragrance of victory. Otherwise, why would their eyes sparkle?

I only wanted to smile at those whose eyes shone as they looked at the world.

'Accept your envy as envy. Admire! Dream. Life becomes vivid only when it flows somewhere. Envy will whisper which direction you should flow. Don't become liquor that stagnates and rots. Become water that whispers dreams.'

I'd felt it when I saw the sword slaves fighting in the colosseum. A fighting spirit lay dormant within the Earth Spiritfolk.

The goblins had considered Gyari, their kin who died in the colosseum, an oddity. They had held her funeral thinking of her as a peculiar child. But if Gyari had loved competition, other Earth Spiritfolk could love it just as much.

"Grrr!"

I knocked away the eleventh challenger's sword.

'The White Lion is by your side.'

Though I was only a superstition, a false constellation, I wanted to be remembered as a god of beauty who had whispered beauty to you.

Perhaps.

「Could I be remembered by you as a single flower petal?」

Without a doubt.

That was all Master had wanted, too.

If one person sharing their life with another was a bond of fate, and passing on their will was a fateful opportunity, then teaching these children to aspire was surely inevitable.

I parried the twelfth challenger's sword.

[The Earth Spiritfolk awaken to the aesthetics of dueling.]

The Tower whispered in my head.

[The Earth Spiritfolk desire the honor of victory.]

[The Earth Spiritfolk aspire to the glory and disgrace of challenge.]

The Tower probably had its own aesthetics and procedures that made it send notifications every time, but in this case, at least, they were unnecessary.

[The Earth Spiritfolk's trait 'Supreme Greed' is changing!]

I could tell just by looking at the goblins' spellbound faces.

[The Earth Spiritfolk gain the new trait 'Will to Win'!]

Letters appeared before my eyes.

+

[Will to Win]

Classification: Culture. Collective Unconscious.

Origin: [Supreme Greed (B)]

Description: The Earth Spiritfolk are greedy. Greed is not born of a base nature, but of deprivation in life. Since the Earth Spiritfolk appear ugly to every race, they opened their eyes to the world burdened with deprivation from birth.

'Life is truly life only when it flows into the world.'

From now on, rather than blaming the world for this deprivation, the Earth Spiritfolk will issue it a challenge.

'If we must flow, let us flow as a torrent.'

The Earth Spiritfolk believe that they, too, can become strong. They believe they can fulfill their desires! The sword is the symbol of their faith, the duel its procedure, and victory its proof.

'More fiercely!'

The Earth Spiritfolk will desire endlessly.

More honorable contests. More glorious victories.

The Earth Spiritfolk will continue seeking tokens of their faith, and perhaps this will prove an unending tragedy. But what does that matter? The Earth Spiritfolk will gladly shed tears over tragedy and applaud a failed hero.

May dreams accompany the flowing water.

※However, aura users may be treated as a privileged class.

※This trait may change as history unfolds.

+

PATTER.

It happened when we defeated the thirteenth challenger. Droplets fell onto my lion's mane.

"Gorrr, krr. Gor."

At first, I assumed they were drops of Gorke's sweat. Having marked his first-ever duel with thirteen consecutive bouts, Gorke was drenched from head to toe. He had reached the limits of his mental endurance before his physical stamina, pushed to the point where using any more aura would be difficult.

But it wasn't sweat.

It was rain.

"Gor?"

"Ke?"

The goblins looked blankly up at the sky.

PITTER-PATTER, PATTER...

Rain fell. Drops landed on the goblins' hooked noses and bounced. Unable to hold their weight, the droplets slipped down, flowing as rainwater.

"Rain."

"It's Kereukke..."

"It's rain."

"Water really is falling from the whole sky..."

The goblins opened their mouths to catch and drink the rain. The Earth Spiritfolk gazed up at it with faces more rapturous than when they'd watched Cavefire in the cavern, more ecstatic than when they'd first left the caves and seen the sunset.

"Goreurup. Gor, gor!"

"Kereukke! Kereukke!"

The goblins spread their short arms and stamped their feet. Small splashes rose beneath their soles, and sticky muddy water flew. Some rolled on the ground, coating their bare bodies in rain and mud.

It was a little too unruly to call sacred.

And far too sacred to call unruly.

"..."

The Mountain Snailfolk general put away his snail horn.

"How troublesome. We hastily assembled a force on the city's orders and pursued them this far, only for monsoon rain to flood the river. The filthy Mold have already crossed... The water is too fierce to make the hunting dogs swim. Raimu. Born mortal, how can we oppose immortal nature? Is this the evil god's curse?"

Muttering, the general turned his dog's head.

"Or perhaps this, too, is Raim's will."

He rode into the midst of the hundreds of dog cavalry and shouted.

"We will cease pursuit of the Mold across the river!"

"Tentacle of the Canyon, but that is..."

"Raim. It is my decision. We cannot be the only ones sacrificed, caught between immortals. We will join the pursuit force from White Mountain City and chase the Conforming Humans. All troops, move out!"

BWOOOO!

The horn rang out through the rain. The Mountain Snailfolk slapped their dogs' backs with their tentacles. Panting, the hunting dogs drove forward on their hind legs and soon vanished into the downpour, trailing long shadows.

BWOOO...

The horn lingered a little longer than the shadows, then fell silent.

The sound of rain filled the world.

"..."

For a while, I stared in the direction the dog cavalry had disappeared. An army swift in coming and light in leaving. Looking at it, I could guess why the Inquisitor had been so confident, why he had smiled even as he lost to us.

"Grrr."

I turned back to the goblins. The children were rejoicing in the rain, smearing themselves with mud.

'I've done everything I can for them.'

Once I led them to Guru, all my duties would be fulfilled.

'It's about time to wrap up this stage, too.'

But before that, I watched the goblins romp about a little longer.

'Cute little things.'

Smiling inwardly.