WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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◈ SSS-Class Revival Hunter ◈
Chapter 160: Great Snail Empire (3)
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Viper, the Black Dragon Master, and others frowned as they looked into the void, probably having received their quests too. It wasn't hard to guess what those quests were.
‘Probably to escape with their respective races.’
Around that time, the Heretic Inquisitor smiled.
“Oho?”
The Heretic Inquisitor must also have received a [Quest].
And guessing its content wasn't difficult either.
“A mission has been given. Ahaha! The quest instructs me to thwart your escape and staunchly defend the empire!”
The exact opposite of our mission.
Defend the empire.
“I imagine you were given missions to rescue your tribes from the Slime Empire. Hmm, fascinating. Our quest objectives conflict with one another.”
"......."
An odd silence fell among us, broken by the cheers echoing from the underground city’s colosseum.
The Heretic Inquisitor stroked his chin.
“I understand. Everyone, surrender to me.”
“…What?”
The Black Dragon Master furrowed her brows as if to ask what that meant, but the Heretic Inquisitor’s expression did not change. Still smiling, he spoke as though methodically laying out an impeccably logical argument.
“I know you’re all emotionally confused right now! Although it was just over a fortnight, you each devoted affection to your races. It's natural to not accept them becoming slaves. However, this is the fastest way!”
Fast.
“If I hadn't intervened, the people of this world would have wandered for thousands of years! But thanks to my timely intervention, humanity entered the ancient era in just 200 years. Fast, right?”
“Heretic Inquisitor, even if what you say is true, using religion and slavery like this is…”
“I’m not saying my method is perfect, Black Dragon Master! Imagine the lives that might have been sacrificed over thousands of years of history. Even if my civilization exploited hundreds of thousands of slaves, it’s ‘just’ a few hundred years!”
"......."
“I will further accelerate history."
The Heretic Inquisitor spoke. Torches burned here and there throughout the underground world. Behind him, the gigantic dog statue cast its shadow.
“From antiquity to the Middle Ages. From the Middle Ages to the early modern era. From the early modern era to the modern age. Finally, from the modern age to the present day! I will bring every mistake, misunderstanding, and massacre humanity must pass through to an end as quickly as possible!”
The Heretic Inquisitor’s voice brimmed with conviction.
His open, good-natured eyes conveyed what he meant.
‘I can do this.’
“Everyone, surrender to me! I will remain in this world to guide them. 400 years. No, I’ll raise them to our civilization’s level in 360 years!”
“You’re saying you’ll endure here for another 360 years?”
“Yes!”
Under the pillar inscribed with the history of a civilization, the Heretic Inquisitor beamed.
“Trust me, and all of you, please leave!”
4.
We held a meeting but could not reach a conclusion. Some companions wanted to entrust the stage to the Heretic Inquisitor, while others vehemently opposed the idea.
Eventually, after over two hours, we couldn’t agree on a consensus.
“Let’s first see how our races are doing. Everyone’s getting too heated.”
I suggested.
“This way, it’ll only turn into an emotional conflict… Let’s see how the children are living. Then we’ll naturally come to a decision. Let’s meet here again tomorrow. Okay?”
The companions nodded. Sighing or groaning, we dispersed to check on our respective races.
I, of course, went to where the goblins were.
Most of the goblins lived in the salt mines.
-Today’s daytime work is over! Lime! Everyone, return to your quarters!
-No molds except the pit chiefs may ever go outside!
-Line up! Orderly!
The Mountain Snail Tribe waved their tentacles. The goblins flinched and shuddered, then entered pits dug immediately beside the salt mine.
Those ‘holes’ were the accommodations provided to the Earth Spirit Tribe.
"......."
I was speechless.
Lost for words, a sigh-like sound escaped my sealed lips.
“It’s unbelievable… In holes. These children love mud so much. Living here, where there’s only the smell of salt. At the very least, they should reside somewhere damp.”
-Exactly.
The Guardian Spirit muttered.
-Exactly. They are looking for water themselves, as it happens.
From hundreds of holes, a goblin or two emerged. The goblins wore red collars around their necks, clutching water jars.
Pit chiefs.
The leaders chosen from each hole were fetching water themselves.
-Kerrr.
Mostly, they were mothers.
I immediately understood why mothers were chosen as cave chiefs.
-Why are two coming out from your hole!
-Keruk, if I disappear, the child keeps crying. Please understand, Ker…
-Tsk!
The Mountain Snail Tribe overseers had ordered that [no goblin except a pit chief may roam outside]. Even so, they did not go so far as to prevent a mother from bringing her child out of maternal concern. If a mother became the pit chief, she could take her child with her, allowing two goblins to go outside and bring back two jars of water.
-Gorr!
-Water! Ke, water!
Young goblins plunged into the cave spring. Splash! Splash. While the children swam, the mothers fetched water.
Unglazed, low-fired jars. Pottery that would shatter easily if dropped. Even these were precious possessions to goblins living as mine slaves, so the mothers handled the jars with care.
"......."
I grew quieter and quieter.
The time to fetch spring water was the only freedom allowed to the Earth Spirit Tribe. During this precious respite, mother goblins mixed water with sand, trying to mimic the feel of mud. They slowly drew tattoos on the children’s skin with this rough, mock mud.
-Gorr!
-Gorr, gorr!
The children joyfully played, oblivious.
One child waved its squid-like arms, smearing mud on its mother’s body. The drawing was more like a scribble than a tattoo.
The mother didn’t erase the child’s scribbles.
-It’s time for night work! Lime!
The day's labor continued.
-Don't dawdle, mold!
The snail supervisors urged them on. The Mountain Snail Tribe called goblins [mold]. It was a derogatory term. In their pronunciation, mold was [org], named because goblins always whimpered goruk goruk.
-Come out of your quarters!
-Don’t dawdle! Lazy orgs.
The cruel act of broadly labeling a race for ‘funny pronunciation’ left me speechless.
Not only goblins were called by derogatory names.
The Ghost Tribe were [rat-horns]. The Vampiric Tribe were [bloodsuckers]. As for the Gill-Fin Tribe, they were simply [fish]. Under the Mountain Snail Tribe’s rule, each tribe’s distinctive features had been reduced to objects of ridicule.
-Start working!
-Begin the night work!
Bang!
Goblins wielded their stone hammers, smashing the rock salt. The salt mined from the mines was extremely hard and large. The goblins' night work was to break it down to edible sizes.
-Kerrr…
-Kerruk. Kerrr.
The rock salt emitted a foul odor as it broke, smelling like rotten egg yolks. Bang! Bang! Bang! For one hour, two hours, three hours, the goblins broke the rock salt, smearing their long noses with the stench.
-Kerrr...
From a distance, the goblins appeared to be wielding laundry beaters. But up close, it was evident that their fingernails were all worn down.
As the salt shattered, so did their nails.
Blood ran from their wrinkled fingers, and the salt bit into the bleeding wounds. The goblins groaned from time to time, but continued working as though they were used to it.
-Lime.
The snail supervisor looked up.
In the center of the underground world, there was a single hole in the cave ceiling. During the day, sunlight poured through it, and at night, moonlight settled in. Now, stars in the night sky could be glimpsed.
-Work is over!
-The night shift is ending, lime!
-All mine slaves, return to your quarters! Put every hammer back where it belongs. Any mold that takes a hammer home gets fifty lashes! Lime! Do not forget! Any mold that takes a hammer home gets fifty lashes!
The goblins returned to their holes with their heads down.
-Kerrr... Gorr.
Waiting for the Earth Spirit Tribe back in each pit were two jars of water and a few carp-like fish that the overseers had tossed in.
These fish, too, had been caught by the Gill-Fin Tribe’s fish-slaves. Slaves who lived in the water caught fish to feed slaves who lived on land.
"......."
Smoke rose from each hole as fish were grilled. One, two, three, four, and hundreds...
Children of the goblins kept reaching for the half-cooked fish. Tired from mining rock salt all day, the mothers weakly swatted the backs of their children's hands, as if shooing away flies.
Still, the children kept watching for a chance to snatch the food. In the end, the first fish to finish cooking went to them. The children tore into it ravenously.
-These creatures always have to burn their food before eating it, Lime.
The snail supervisors overseeing the night laughed.
-Their digestive systems are less developed than ours.
-Real barbarians. How can they burn food like that?
-Speaking of which, the next candidates for the colosseum...
Night fell.
The goblins fell asleep. On the watchtowers, the overseers played jacks or nodded off. Aside from drunken commotion in the distance, the underground world sank into stillness.
"Hmm."
By this point, I had already made up my mind.
“I think I owe an apology to Raviel."
I said.
The Guardian Spirit folded his arms as if he had known what I would decide.
-Going to regress?
"Yes. I’ll go back and talk to the Heretic Inquisitor. Perhaps we can create a different future.”
-What if the talk doesn’t work?
"Then we’ll talk some more. Anyway, we have about 200 years, right?"
The Guardian Spirit wrinkled his nose.
-I disagree.
“Why? Do you somewhat agree with what the Heretic Inquisitor said?”
-No, it’s not that... Sigh. How do I explain this so that this kid gets it?
The Guardian Spirit scratched his head.
-Let’s say I’m your child.
"Really?"
-Hypothetically! Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. Anyway, suppose I’m your child and I come home from school having been beaten up. Would you regress a day to erase that fact?
"…What are you talking about?"
-Think from my perspective.
The Guardian Spirit looked me straight in the eye.
-Suppose I had an accident. Bad luck, died. Then it’s only natural for you to regress. Don’t even think twice, regress and save me. Got it?
“But what are you…”
-But if you go back a day just because I got beaten, what about my chance? It’d be pretty crappy from my perspective. ‘I got beaten and you regress and erase it? Don’t I get a chance?’ That’s what I’d think.
“What chance?”
-The chance to take those bastards down myself. You know what I mean. Just a few months ago, the person who raised you gave you a thorough dressing-down too.
The story of Wu Zixu.
I pondered.
"But..."
-Just trust.
“Whom?”
-Yourself.
The Guardian Spirit responded firmly.
-And the kids around you.
I mulled over it.
Mice squeaked in the cave.
After a while...
-Huh?
The Guardian Spirit suddenly spoke.
-Look at that, Zombie. Look at them.
“What?”
-Those goblins.
I turned my head towards where the Guardian Spirit pointed.
-They’re not sleeping. What are they up to?
Indeed.
Goblins were stealthily emerging from their holes. One or two from each. After confirming that the supervisors on the towers were dozing off, the goblins quietly headed somewhere.
-They’re going into the cave?
The goblins entered the salt mine.
The mine was labyrinthine, like an ant colony. The Mountain Snail Tribe supervisors, relatively sensitive to salt, mostly directed slaves from outside the mine and rarely ventured this deep.
-Kerrr...
-Kerruk, Kerr.
The goblins spoke in hushed tones as they walked. The deeper they went, the narrower the mine passage became, and the ceiling got lower. It was like a maze. But the goblins skillfully found their way, as if they had trodden this path several times before.
-Huh?
The corners of the Guardian Spirit’s mouth lifted in amusement.
-Look at this?
"......."
-It really is darkest beneath the lamp. They built a secret passage directly beneath their masters’ feet.
Underground level 2. Level 3. Level 4.
The goblins went down to a deep place. The number of forks they had passed was in the hundreds. Anyone who entered recklessly without knowing the way would likely never find their way out.
Finally, after over an hour of descent.
-Kerr.
A wide cavity opened up.
-Kerruk, Kerr.
-Kerrr...
In the dark cavity, torches flickered dimly. Every time the light faintly illuminated, the goblins' outlines wavered.
There wasn’t just one path leading here. There were several. Not only the goblins I had followed, but also groups from elsewhere had gathered.
-Aaah.
The Guardian Spirit marveled.
-See? I told you. They are people too. They’re not just waiting for someone to come and save them!
As if responding to the Guardian Spirit's words, the Tower whispered to me.
[The Earth Spirit Tribe begins a secret meeting.]
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