Chapter 177 - The Giant's Legacy (1)

1

Let us tell the story of a certain city.

Slimepolis.

This was a city that lived on mining and trade.

Renowned as the empire's foremost source of rock salt, Slimepolis boasted immense prestige. When people asked, "Does digging in the dirt put food on your table? Does it make you money?" this was a place that could brush them off with, "Yes, both, actually."

"The great cavern."

"The skull of the Earth Mother."

"We gather the goddess's teeth."

That was the kind of place it was.

A city prospering through mining digs up glory along with the earth. As its excavations deepen, so do its days of glory—until, one day, a swing of the pickaxe produces a sound.

CLANG!

It has dug all the way to the bottom.

[Slimepolis's mining conditions deteriorate!]

There was still rock salt left. But obtaining it required digging far too deep. The work took longer and grew more difficult.

[Costs increase in Slimepolis's salt industry!]

The slaves escaped. The Mountain Snailfolk's skin was vulnerable to salt. They could swing a pickaxe briefly at a mine entrance or supervise the workers, but crawling into the deep shafts was difficult for them. That was why they needed slaves from the six other races. Once those slaves disappeared, the rock-salt city's economy rapidly shrank.

[The Mountain Snailfolk's dominance weakens!]

The Gillfin Folk were a race resembling merfolk. Seawater was too harsh on their skin, so they swam only in the river called the Great River.

But one day, an oddity was born. This individual could enter seawater and endure it with no more than, "Huh, a little salty." Descendants who shared that individual's blood also became capable of surviving in the sea.

[The Gillfin Folk evolve!]

The sea was a forbidding realm that the Mountain Snailfolk struggled to enter. Being able to live there meant that the Gillfin Folk no longer had to encounter them.

Then, one day, another oddball among the Gillfin Folk happened to lick the mud of a tidal flat. "Huh, that's really salty." Naturally, mud washed by seawater was salty too. "Could I make it even saltier?"

This was a time when memories of slavery in Slimepolis still lingered. The notion that [To obtain salt, you must dig a pit] remained firmly entrenched. The Gillfin Folk dug a hole in the middle of the tidal flat, planted wooden sticks in it, wrapped reeds around them, and coated them in mud. It was a primitive jar.

A week later, the Gillfin Folk inspected the jar. Seawater had collected inside it. They scooped it out, carried it away, and heated it in a kiln. When they tasted the result, it was extremely salty. This was boiled salt. An old preconception had met a new environment, and a new technology was born.

[A new technology is born!]

[A rival power to the Mountain Snailfolk grows!]

The Gillfin Folk were also natural sailors. These merfolk, able to breathe both on land and underwater, did not die even when caught in storms. The once-terrifying sea, the Sea God, was now their guardian deity. Ships laden with salt traversed sea routes and waterways as comfortably as their own homes. Production and distribution in the salt industry passed into the hands of the Gillfin Folk.

[An ideological conflict arises!]

The Mountain Snailfolk could not accept this. According to their mythology, salt was the goddess's "teeth." They found it difficult to readily acknowledge that salt from seawater could be eaten without causing an upset stomach.

When people find it hard to acknowledge another, there are several stances they can take.

"It is sorcery."

The Mountain Snailfolk chose the easiest stance.

"The devil is behind it."

"Boiled salt is cursed food tainted by the devil's breath."

"All Gillfin Folk are fiends who serve the devil!"

"Even their skin's newfound ability to withstand the sea is proof of devil worship!"

Perhaps the Mountain Snailfolk could have chosen a more arduous path. They could have revised and reshaped their mythology. [In truth, the goddess split in two when she died. One half of her divided body was buried in the earth, and the other sank into the deep sea.]

They could have tried something like that.

As an empire's territory expands, its traditional mythology grows precarious. Salt, once thought to come only from land, comes from water too. The world grows larger. And as it grows larger, the mythology loses its individuality, its central figure becoming less distinctive.

Someday, the empire might have abandoned its [distinctive local mythology] and embraced a [universal, colorless supreme deity] as its new faith. [Slimepolis] might have ceased to be merely a city's name and been reborn, like Rome, as the name of the empire itself.

"Anyone who consumes salt made by fiends..."

"Shall be punished for blasphemy, regardless of their reasons!"

The Mountain Snailfolk failed to do that.

"Salt dissolves when put in water. Water dissolves salt. How, then, could salt come from water? This is the devil's deception, an evil scheme to beguile people and lure them into a false faith."

They justified their inability to change.

"Henceforth, all citizens must eat only rock salt produced within the empire. Anyone mining salt in a mine not officially sanctioned by the temples, anyone transmuting water into salt, and anyone bringing this transmuted water-salt into the empire shall be punished!"

"Trade in water-salt is forbidden. Block every river and waterway. Confiscate and sink the Gillfin Folk's vessels and any ships carrying water-salt!"

Priests who believed in the old mythology defended this. Warriors who had fought the slaves answered the call. Citizens who still looked down on the six races cheered it on. The nobles used that defense, that response, and that support as the foundation of their power.

No human could stop the priests, warriors, citizens, and nobles all at once.

["Ahaha."]

["From now on, I shall serve you as my master."]

The god who could have done so had already been eliminated.

[The Mountain Snailfolk destroy the Gillfin Folk's main port.]

[The Mountain Snailfolk plunder the Gillfin Folk's merchant ships.]

[The Mountain Snailfolk force the other races to trade in rock salt.]

[The Gillfin Folk rise against the Mountain Snailfolk's actions!]

When an old power declines and a new power rises.

When control of an industry changes hands.

When one side cannot embrace a new ideology, when it lets a priceless opportunity for reform slip away, the inevitable happens.

[A war for supremacy breaks out!]

That was the story of the past six hundred years.

"Ugor."

There had been six wars.

The empire had fallen.

"In accordance with the peace agreement between the seven races, we shall now destroy the holy land."

The priests had lost their religion. The warriors had lost victory. The citizens had lost peace. The nobles had lost power.

All that remained was the glory of six hundred years ago and mines stripped of their rock salt. But a sentence in a history book could not stop an enemy's spears and swords, and an empty cavern could not feed the people.

By the time everyone realized that, it was too late.

Far too late.

"You have three choices," Chair Uburka said.

"First. I simply destroy everything myself! I can do it. And I want to. The title [He Who Destroyed a City Single-Handedly] is an enticing one. But I am not merely mighty—I am magnanimous. I shall set my greed aside for the moment."

With a smug chuckle, Uburka struck a bodybuilding pose.

His left pectoral twitched.

"Second. Mountain Snailfolk, you destroy the holy land yourselves! You can do it. But you would not want to. The name [Those Who Destroyed Their Own Holy Land] would be disgraceful. I understand your shame, so I shall set this option aside as well!"

Chair Uburka's right pectoral rippled.

"Third. All seven races take up hammers."

Uburka grinned.

"Smash the city until your anger is spent. Breaking things makes you feel better. Soldiers who worked hard marching all this way, citizens who suffered through the siege—just smash it all! You can do it. And you will want to."

The last remaining sovereign of the Mountain Snailfolk, the Mountain King, asked in a trembling voice,

"Fearsome warrior. What if fighting breaks out after we let you into the city?"

"Do not worry! We Earth Spiritfolk will keep watch. Your hammers will be used only to smash buildings, not people's skulls."

"There are things we must preserve rather than destroy. We carve our history into stone pillars."

"Take them apart and carry them away. What is so difficult about that?"

"They are very heavy..."

"Select only what you can carry. History you cannot shoulder is not pride, but obstinacy. Cast it aside and you will become lighter. Become lighter and you will become freer. Become freer and you will become stronger."

"Slimepolis is our last city. Where do you intend to lead us?"

"To a place lighter, freer, and stronger than this one."

"... Some of our citizens do not trust you."

"Excellent!"

Uburka clasped his hands together and flexed.

His biceps bulged.

"Tell them to come at me all at once!"

Among the Mountain Snailfolk citizens, 944 stepped forward. Since all 944 could not charge at once, the sixteen bravest snails attacked first. Fallen though their empire was, these were soldiers who had spent more than enough years living by the sword.

"I shall grant you the special honor of beholding my true form!"

A giant of aura descended.

"What?"

"What the..."

"Fucking..."

The instant those brief cries left the soldiers' mouths, Uburka's punch sent the Mountain Snailfolk flying. Not only the sixteen in front, but twenty-eight waiting behind them were cleanly knocked out of the park.

"Wahahahaha!"

The giant roared with laughter.

"Come at me if you dare, little ones!"

"..."

"My chest is broad! Whether there are nine hundred or nine thousand of you, I shall take you all on! Sadly, it produces no milk, but I have more than enough muscle to turn brats like you into adults! I shall be your daddy!"

Few people wanted an Earth Spiritfolk for a daddy.

Rather than suffer the stress of being beaten by that muscle pig, the Mountain Snailfolk decided to relieve it by smashing their ancestors' buildings instead. A wise choice.

"Goddammit."

"Fuck!"

For nine days and nights, Slimepolis was broken apart.

As the seven races shouted "fuck" side by side, the city was reduced to dust.

Uburka handled the finishing touches.

"Hup!"

Uburka became a giant and hammered Slimepolis.

BOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM!

It continued for more than half a day. The cavern housing the city shook, and the mountain housing the cavern collapsed. The cavern ceiling shattered, sending rocks raining down.

"Fucking hell..."

Before them stood the sight of a gigantic hobgoblin burying a city single-handedly.

"Heh."

Chair Uburka lifted the corners of his mouth. It was that peculiarly satisfied smile a little child wears after stomping on a sandcastle in a playground.

"At least I have earned the title [He Who Destroyed a City]."

"..."

"I hereby declare the peace agreement fulfilled. Earth Spiritfolk, pack your things. Mountain Snailfolk, drag those ugly chunks of stone pillar along and follow us."

Unprecedented. Never to be repeated.

The strongest warrior in Earth Spiritfolk history, whose like had never existed and would never exist again, spoke.

"We return to Guru."

[The war for supremacy ends.]

[The multiracial coalition wins an incomplete victory.]

[The Mountain Snailfolk escape the threat of extinction.]

That was this stage's conclusion.

[The Earth Spiritfolk gain the authority of a hegemon!]

[The Earth Spiritfolk's prestige increases.]

[The Earth Spiritfolk's power increases.]

[The likelihood of the Earth Spiritfolk developing a new trait increases dramatically.]

[You have gained 9000 Race Points!]

[You currently have 9800 Race Points.]

My fellow hunters murmured.

"Hey, that guy really is a monster..."

"Surely the Earth Spiritfolk won't keep producing brutes that size...? Our kids would have it rough if they did."

"Probably not."

The Paladin shook her head.

"He must be a peerless warrior whose like might appear only once in all of history, if at all. It just so happens that such a talent was born among the Earth Spiritfolk in this age. In another age, a hero will probably appear among a different race. We just need to hang tough until our golden age comes."

The Tower's voice rang out.

[You may now declare the stage cleared.]

[Would you like to declare the stage cleared now?]

"Oh?"

The Black Dragon leader swept back the hair at the side of her face.

"So a race doesn't necessarily have to be eliminated. Is it enough simply to overcome the threat of elimination?"

"Who knows? One of the races might have been in danger of elimination without us realizing it."

From a distance, we watched the armies of each race disperse.

Eight hundred years had already passed since the primeval forest burned.

We still reigned over them like constellations, but those children were gradually beginning to walk by their own steps, rather than by the star patterns in the night sky.

"Hmm."

I spoke up.

"Good work, everyone."

"Did we really do any work? The child from your race handled everything alone. I've never had such an easy stage."

The Black Dragon leader smiled cheerfully.

"I'm going to watch how the children live for another ten days or so before declaring the stage cleared. What about you, Death King?"

"Then I'll stay another ten days too. As it happens, I have something to teach Uburka."

"What else are you planning to teach that monster...?"

"Don't worry. It's something good. Something good."

We agreed to declare the stage cleared in ten days, then parted ways.

Yes.

I still had something to pass on to Uburka—to the Earth Spiritfolk.

[Purchasing 'Appear in a Dream.']

[100 Race Points are consumed!]

[You currently have 9700 Race Points.]

Uburka, who was floating in a muddy pond, looked toward me.

"Ugor. Back again, old man?"

"Yep. Daddy's here."

"I guided the Mountain Snailfolk as you advised, old man. Hurry up and praise me for doing well."

"Oh, my baby! Did you save a race from the brink of extinction? Who's a good boy? Well done, very well done. My baby's so wonderful! Raising you was worth it! The Earth Spiritfolk are the coolest in the world, and my baby is the coolest of all the Earth Spiritfolk! You're so much better than your daddy!"

"Ugor. Ugor."

Uburka grinned foolishly.

After showering him with praise for about ten minutes, I broached the subject.

"Uburka. There's something I'd like you to learn."

"Ugor?"

"More precisely, I want you to learn this, then spread it widely among your people. I hope it will become a teaching that is never forgotten, even after you die, even a hundred years after your death, even after another hundred years have passed."

"What teaching?"

I smiled.

Then I kindled red aura in my hand.

"I shall teach you the fires of the world."

A new Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.

I would pass my own signature art on to the Earth Spiritfolk.