Chapter 181 - Our Children Have Changed (2)

“What are you talking about? My children are innocent, adorable, sturdy, hardworking... Anyway, they were born blessed with every good thing in the world. What do you know about my little gobbies?”

“Sure, you doting fool. Make sure you come back as a goblin in your next life.”

The attendant spirit clicked his tongue.

Just then, a voice rang out in my head.

[The floor 34 quest is being issued.]

Had the Tower decided I had a rough grasp of the situation on this stage? It handed down a quest. Letters spread before my eyes like paint.

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[Theater's Warring States Era: Classics in Crisis]

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Even the quest's name sounded ominous.

Still kneeling in despair, I looked up at the quest window.

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[Theater's Warring States Era: Classics in Crisis]

Difficulty: B+

Mission Objective: You have successfully given the Earth Spiritfolk a mythology. From birth, the Earth Spiritfolk hear your stories, witness your deeds, and learn your convictions. But the excitement did not last. After hearing the same stories repeated for hundreds of years, the younger generation of Earth Spiritfolk has grown tired of the ordinary “classics”!

Recently, fan adaptations of the classics have gained popularity in Earth Spiritfolk society. This trend has gone beyond a sensation to become a veritable frenzy, and now threatens to displace the original myths themselves!

“Ugor. I prefer evil mastermind Kekereukker to good Kekereukker.”

“Golden Silk Blossom ending up with Silver Lily is the proper tradition.”

“Heaven-Slaying Star and Sword Emperor are good too.”

“You don't know what you're talking about. Sword Emperor has to end up with Heavenly Demon for it to be classic.”

This is a crisis!

The Earth Spiritfolk have begun arguing over which myths are true. At this rate, they may lose their shared mythology. If that shared mythology collapses, the Earth Spiritfolk will be unable to perform aura formation arts!

O noble White Lion. To the Earth Spiritfolk, whatever is performed in a theater is mythology, and the play that earns the most fervent cheers is the main history. Decide for yourself what constitutes true mythology and authentic history! Unify their mythology and establish their aura formation arts!

※If you fail to guide them, your race will lose the trait ‘Demonic Cult.’

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“...”

I read the quest window several times.

“Uh... So basically, my stories have been twisted so much that they can't tell what's real and what's fake anymore? And if I leave things as they are, the aura formation arts I dreamed up will go down the drain too.”

“Seems that way?”

“Hmm.”

I stroked my chin. What should I do about this?

Several thoughts flashed through my mind. But the first was:

“Do I really need to fix it?”

I felt it might be fine to leave things as they were.

“I'd get bored too if I heard the same stories every day. The kids want some new plays, and they're trying different things. Why should I spoil their fun?”

“Huh? What about those aura formation arts you were so ambitious about?”

“That's my ambition. I started because Uburka agreed it sounded fun too. If the kids of this era don't think it's fun and reject it, well, that's their choice. I don't intend to meddle even in how they play and enjoy themselves.”

“Oh ho.”

The attendant spirit clapped.

“For the first time, you look like a mature parent.”

“I've always been a mature parent.”

“What glorious bullshit. If they held a contest to find the world's most childish parent, you'd win by a landslide, Zombie.”

“Oh, that play looks interesting.”

I pointed at a theater farther down the street.

This city really had a lot of theaters. If the round theaters at the three-way intersection were giant corporations, this was a small troupe catering to the backstreet market. Still, they must have polished their advertising skills, because the play's poster was quite pretty.

“The epic of Kekereukker! Come watch Kekereukker's Cavefire play, [Wild Dance of Flaming Swords]!”

An elf ticket seller shouted.

“[Demon King Estelle], [Chronicles of the Heavenly Demon], [Raviel and Kekereukker]—every story begins here and ends here! Two people who always journey together through the myths! Him and his story!”

The poster featured one hobgoblin painted with black tattoos who looked oddly delicate, and another who was rugged and muscular.

A portrait of the two standing back-to-back, glaring straight ahead.

“That's obviously you and me. Right?”

“Yeah. Looks like it's a story about us.”

The attendant spirit was intrigued too.

Full of anticipation, we entered the small theater. Several logs had been scraped clean and set out, with Earth Spiritfolk spectators seated on top. Every seat was taken. Even the standing room was packed.

“Ooh.”

The facilities were better than I'd expected, raising my hopes further.

“It's small, but it's tidy. It really feels like a small, elite operation.”

“But was there anything you told Uburka that could count as a story about you and me?”

Good question.

Aside from [Chronicles of the Heavenly Demon], not really.

“Well, I guess this is another fan adaptation. Oh, looks like it's starting. We should watch quietly... Actually, we don't have to.”

“Nobody else can hear us chatting. That's a pretty sweet perk.”

“Don't they sell popcorn at their theaters? Watermelon beer? Fried watermelon rind? What is this? Why do these kids love watermelon so much?”

Bantering away, we watched [Wild Dance of Flaming Swords]. Our hearts only fluttered with heightened anticipation for a moment. As the play progressed, our faces—no, our mugs—soured in real time.

“What the...”

“Fuck?”

We both ran out in the middle of the performance.

“Have these bastards lost their minds?”

“Insane.”

“That wasn't me on the poster? It was the Flame Emperor?”

“Insane.”

“Why does the Flame Emperor pop up out of nowhere and steal my scene discussing swordsmanship with the Heavenly Demon?!”

“Insane.”

The word kept spilling from my mouth. Three insanities. A triple hell-no. Three strikes, out.

“On second thought, I think we really do need to establish which myths are true. The children's enjoyment? Of course that's important. But not the Flame Emperor. Not the Flame Emperor! Insane. These kids are crossing the line.”

“You're right! Fix every last bit of it!”

United in spirit, the attendant spirit and I swore we would complete the quest no matter what.

“First, let's scope out how to resolve this situation.”

I wandered the city until nightfall.

As a result, I learned that this era harbored an unexpectedly serious problem.

It was also connected to the Earth Spiritfolk's newly acquired trait.

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[Demonic Cult]

Classification: Religion, Military, Politics.

Origin: [Doctrine of the Bad Friend]

Description: At last, the White Lion Faith has passed through the [Doctrine of Guru] and the [Doctrine of the Bad Friend] and begun to establish itself as a single religion!

Through the first prophet, Gorke, the White Lion was recognized as the Earth Spiritfolk's friend and father. Through the second prophet, Uburka, the Earth Spiritfolk learned the White Lion's myths.

However, the Demonic Cult now faces an identity crisis! All manner of sects are springing up over how to interpret the White Lion's myths. They denounce one another as heretics, each claiming to be the true inheritor of the White Lion's religious lineage!

Earth Spiritfolk who believe in different myths hold different mental images. Depending on which mental image forms the basis, the appearance and effects of their aura vary enormously! Resolve the issue of doctrinal interpretation!

※This trait may change as history unfolds.

※Danger! Sixteen sects are embroiled in doctrinal disputes. If these disputes intensify, the religion may split, and in some cases, the race itself may divide!

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“Oh dear.”

I could roughly see how the past three hundred years had unfolded.

“This probably became a problem when Uburka died. While that boy was alive, he could've just beaten them up and subdued them by force...”

“I see. The kids who'd been pinned down without so much as a peep started speaking up.”

“Probably.”

Uburka had been strong. Far too strong. Once that absolute powerhouse disappeared, disagreements among the Earth Spiritfolk could no longer be settled according to any one person's wishes.

An utterly natural conflict.

Just as everyone goes through puberty, the Earth Spiritfolk were experiencing growing pains.

“Welcome, welcome, everyone! If I can't have it, I'd rather destroy it all! Come see an Estelle with a different kind of charm!”

“This is true traditional Cavefire theater! Away with all those other sham plays!”

“Who are you calling a sham, you heretics?!”

“What if the Flame Emperor was actually a good man? This is the story of a man who fell victim to Kekereukker's evil clutches...”

... Although those growing pains were evolving in a very strange direction.

For the Earth Spiritfolk, art and religion were inseparable. Those who performed Cavefire were priests, and the stage itself was a temple. Which plays you went to see corresponded to which sect you believed in.

'Their aura changes dramatically depending on the image they hold in their hearts.'

Art. Religion. Military affairs.

All these important fields were bundled together.

This absolutely, positively wasn't merely a problem of Flame Emperor worship.

I was reinforcing that resolve when it happened.

“Argh! How can you do this?!”

In an out-of-the-way slum, where poor Earth Spiritfolk dug pits in the ground to live in, a shrill voice rang out. Turning to look, I saw an argument taking place outside a small, shabby theater.

“I clearly came first in the audition! My acting was overwhelmingly superior!”

The person at the center of the argument was an elf. The tiny member of the fairy race shrieked at the top of his lungs. A large hobgoblin stood before him with folded arms.

“So why did some other Earth Spiritfolk get the role instead of me?! Was it a bribe? Connections? People should get onstage purely on merit! This is unacceptable!”

“We don't take bribes. Ugo. We don't hire through connections either. We may be poor, but this troupe has a hundred and thirty years of tradition. Don't look down on us.”

“Then why didn't I get even a supporting role, let alone the lead?! Is it because I'm from the fairy race?! Don't give me that! This is racial discrimination! I'll lodge a formal complaint with the Fire River Council!”

“We didn't reject you because you're a fairy either. We pursue equality in accordance with Kekereukker's advice. However...”

The hobgoblin troupe director spoke solemnly.

“You are... far too weak.”

“Wh-what?”

“What kind of body is that?”

The director's gaze slowly swept over the elf.

“Your back is bent. Your shoulders are thin. Your muscles are feeble. Your limbs wobble like spider legs and look ready to snap at a tap. Your thighs... Are those even thighs? I don't know how they support your body.”

The director shook his head.

“What good is acting skill, however great it may be? Audiences these days care a lot about muscles. With a scrawny body like yours, you couldn't captivate even a snot-nosed child. You don't meet the requirements.”

“A-an actor just needs to act well!”

The elf flared up. But perhaps it secretly bothered him too, because he covered his body with both hands.

Still shaking his head, the director displayed his own thick muscles.

“No. An actor is a priest who spreads Kekereukker's teachings far and wide, a warrior who fights at the front when war breaks out, and a fighter who rushes to duel when the council convenes.”

These kids still settled council business by dueling? The adorable lunatics.

“That is precisely why audiences willingly applaud actors. They acknowledge the truth within the illusions the actors show them. Who would let themselves be captivated by a warrior who only talks onstage?”

“Ugh, ughhh...”

“Your muscles are weak. Come back after making your chest muscles at least four times bigger. Then I'll hear you out.”

“A-according to the myths, Kekereukker had hidden muscles too! Mine are hidden too! I'm tougher than I look!”

“Ugor.”

The director snorted.

“Then be Kekereukker instead of an actor. Turn into a lion and help your race. Our troupe, at least, doesn't believe in this hidden-muscle nonsense.”

“W-wait, sir. Just once!”

At last, the fairy dropped to his knees and clung to the director's feet.

“Please let me audition one more time! I'm confident I can act far better than last time. Please? Once you see my acting, you won't even notice those other muscle pigs! I'm an acting genius! If you cast me as the lead—no, at least give me a role as one of the Four Demon Lords in [Chronicles of the Heavenly Demon]! It'll revolutionize Guru's theater scene!”

“Actors do not kneel.”

The director dismissed him.

“Exercise. Build muscle. That's all I have to say.”

“Ah! Fuck! Unlike you, fairies can't grow big muscles, you ignorant pigs! Is your brain made of muscle too?!”

“There's nothing more to discuss.”

The hobgoblin easily shook the elf off. “Argh!” With a scream, the elf went rolling across the ground.

“Oh, I'm dying! Oh! A Mold is racially discriminating against me! It's miserable being born an elf! If I'd been born a goblin, I would've made my stage debut ages ago! Why did I have to be born with big ears and get treated like this?! Does Kekereukker know you're doing this?!”

“Pathetic... Go make money.”

“I love acting more than money!”

Clicking his tongue, the director shut the theater's front door.

The elf, apparently an aspiring actor, sobbed loudly.

“O Great Cat! Kekereukker! Please grant me the talent to be an actor! Let me get onstage, even just once! You can take my soul! No, even a devil will do—take my soul! Take it and let me make my debut! Please!”

Hmm.

I stroked my chin.

“I've thought of a good way.”

“Huh? What?”

“Let's make ourselves a superstar actor.”

I would show true theater to the Earth Spiritfolk who believed in false stories.