WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ SSS-Class Revival Hunter ◈
Chapter 161: Cave Fire (1)
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The cave was filled with air. It was cool. The goblins merely sniffed, saying nothing even as cold vapor clung to their skin.
About a thousand goblins all remained silent.
-Today in the arena, a great warrior died.
Someone spoke softly amid them.
-The warrior's name was Gyari. Kerr. She was the daughter of Orogon, war-chief of the white-maned tribe, and Gorhe, and a descendant of Gorhir, a great warrior who inherited a tattoo from the White Lion.
The speaker remained unseen, buried in the crowd. Sheltered by the shadows of their kin and the darkness of the cave, a goblin spoke. Since the words were not being delivered from a podium, this was no speech.
-She was a rough one. Kerr.
-Always picking fights since she was young, and eventually, she died from getting beaten up.
It wasn’t a single person's speech, so the goblins freely spoke their minds. In the dark cave, goblins threw in their words from here and there. Fragments of speech gathered to assemble the story of a goblin called Gyari.
-Gyari never remembered hitting anyone.
-But she never forgot a single time she was hit. Kerrr.
-She was a child who always had defiance written on her face. I remember. When Gyari was young, Gorhe tried to paint a tattoo on her. But Gyari shook her head, saying she would draw it herself, then copied the tattoos she saw on others.
-Kerr. Gyari was always a head-shaker.
An entire life was compiled through cooperative narration. A thousand fragments, a thousand snippets, were forming the story of a goblin named Gyari.
I realized.
‘…This is a funeral.’
Today, a goblin died in the colosseum. That Earth Spirit Tribe member was Gyari. Those who knew Gyari, who even once talked to her, had now gathered here underground.
-For Gyari, shaking her head at people and slashing at the world were the same.
-She thought they were the same. Kerruk.
-That’s why she became a gladiator.
The fire flickered.
Shadows were cast on the cave walls. Within these shadows, the goblins were indistinguishable. They were a mass. The bumpy shadows opened their mouths and whispered.
-Thirty-six of our kin died by Gyari’s sword.
-A cruel child.
-When the Mountain Snail Tribe branded her as a gladiator, Gyari laughed. She thought it was a splendid tattoo.
-A terrifying child.
-Happy to wield a sword, but Gyari was only allowed to fight in the arena. Her only allowed opponents were her kin. Gorr. It was Gyari’s misfortune that she could only kill her kin with her happy swordsmanship.
-Kerrr...
-It's difficult to understand.
-An unfortunate child.
The fire flickered.
-Was Gyari one of our kin?
The shadows answered.
-Gorr.
-Gyari was a drawer of tattoos. An artist. A lover of mud and a yearner of rainwater.
-Gyari was us.
An elderly voice spoke.
-Gyari will return to Guru.
Guru.
A word familiar to me.
As I silently watched the goblin's funeral, the Tower's voice reached me.
[You have witnessed the Guru Doctrine of the Earth Spirit Tribe.]
Text appeared before me.
+
[Guru Doctrine]
Category: Religion. White Lion Faith.
Origin: [Kinship Awareness (C)]
Description: 'Guru' is the homeland of all Earth Spirit Tribe members. Guru is the first village established by the Earth Spirit Tribe after the Golden Era's fall. Guru is the nation of the Earth Spirit Tribe. Guru is where warm streams flow and soft mud wells up.
Guru.
It is the last land where the White Lion resided.
The Earth Spirit Tribe does not distinguish between this world and the afterlife, only between 'Guru' and 'non-Guru.' What the Earth Spirit Tribe hopes for in life, rainwater, mud, plenty of meat, and a comfortable place to sleep, can all be found in this world. Hence, belief in an afterlife is unnecessary for them.
The homeland of all kin.
They wish to return to Guru.
*However, over time, memories of Guru will fade.
*If left unchecked, 'Guru' will transform into an abstract place! In that case, Guru will become a concept of 'a space existing somewhere else, not in this world.'
*It's been quite some time since the Earth Spirit Tribe lost Guru! There's a chance that the Guru Doctrine will transform into a doctrine about the afterlife!
+
"......."
I stared blankly at the description.
It contained words that were hard for me to understand.
But there was something that only I could understand.
“I named it without much thought. Guru.”
My heart twinged.
“…And it became something immense for these kids."
Something.
A feeling I'd never experienced before arose.
It was weird. I was proud that the goblins had grown on their own, without me. But I was scared that a word I had casually thrown out had become a meaning for these kids, that it had solidified into a meaning, that they had clung to it to survive.
An anxious feeling.
I was worried about these kids.
“The kids......"
That's right.
“This is what it feels like to watch over children.”
Until now, I had never imagined having a child. I never thought of myself becoming a parent to someone. But intentionally or not, I had played a role akin to a parent for the Earth Spirit Tribe.
-Maybe? I’ve never raised offspring, so I'm not sure.
"......."
My heart was in turmoil.
-Kerruk.
An elderly goblin stepped forward. In the center of the cave, a fire was burning. The old goblin stood in front of the fire, and the Earth Spirit Tribe members, who had been casually throwing pieces of Gyari's story, fell silent.
Silence.
The old goblin waited until the silence became more transparent.
“…Wait?"
They put their hands into the burning fire.
“Hold on. Isn’t that... suicide by self-immolation?"
-No, watch closely, zombie. Their hands aren't burning.
The Guardian Spirit cut off my concern.
-That goblin. They're an Aura user.
“Eh?”
-Look at them. They’re using Aura. They’ve wrapped their hands in Aura.
The Guardian Spirit was right.
The flames obscured the view, but faintly, certainly, the goblin's wrinkled hands were swirling with Aura. It was a red Aura. The old goblin buried their hands in the fire.
Whooosh!
The flames soared.
The previously just-burning fire strangely twisted. The elder used their Aura to manipulate the fire. At the tips of the elder's hands, the flames rose like ascending dragons, swirled around, and spread out like blossoming flowers.
-.......
-.......
The goblins silently watched the ever-changing flames, their eyes calm like spectators watching a stage.
Whooosh. Whish!
The cave was vast, but the vast space was entirely black. The flames were the only colorful light captivating everyone’s gaze.
‘Ah.’
And then I understood.
‘That is a painting.’
Indeed.
The elder was painting with fire.
The flames blazed.
Each flame rose differently.
Two branches of fire split open like mouths, soaring high, reaching the ceiling of the cave.
▲.
It was anger.
The fire's peak hit the ceiling and shattered into pieces. Sparks fell like petals. Slowly. Gently. In the dark cave, the sparks twinkled and eventually vanished, leaving darkness in their wake.
▼.
It was sorrow.
The fire continued to rise from the bonfire.
Small. Into five branches. Like five fingers.
But the fingers of flame couldn't reach the ceiling. They couldn’t catch the falling sparks. Between the sparks falling from the sky and the flames rising from the ground lay an unbridgeable handspan of empty air.
▼
▲.
That was Gyari’s death and their funeral.
The goblins cried silently.
All the Earth Spirit Tribe members watching the fire knew the meaning of the flames. It was their script. Their letters. Their painting. Every minutely trembling flame, every weakly fading spark, was a clear gesture to the Earth Spirit Tribe.
The elder set the fire blazing.
[You have witnessed the Earth Spirit Tribe's Cave Fire.]
Text shimmered in the flickering flames.
+
[Cave Fire]
Category: Art.
Origin: [Primitive Fashionista (E)]
Description: Cave Fire is a unique art of the Earth Spirit Tribe. After being conquered by the Mountain Snail Tribe and dragged to the Hollow City of Slimepolis, the Earth Spirit Tribe found it difficult to obtain mud. It became hard to express their pictographic language.
‘We must draw.’
Yet, the Earth Spirit Tribe's aesthetic consciousness did not wane.
‘We want to draw.’
It instead ignited.
The Earth Spirit Tribe chose fire as a substitute for mud.
In a dark cave, it's hard to recognize a painting. But using fire, the darkness of the cave suddenly transforms into a vast canvas. The Earth Spirit Tribe adapted to and utilized their cave life.
‘Beautiful.’
The mud-dwelling tribe was mesmerized by the art of fire.
‘Gorr.’
The cave's fire.
The Earth Spirit Tribe named it Cave Fire (穴火). Because it was a painting of the cave, they sometimes called it Cave Painting (穴畵); when comparing the flames to blood, they called it Blood Fire (血火) or Blood Painting (血畵).
Fire burns and then disappears. It leaves no trace. Therefore, it's good for evading the surveillance of the Mountain Snail Tribe.
When witnessing Cave Fire, it is proper to remain silent. This too is to avoid being discovered by the Mountain Snail Tribe.
May fortune accompany the silent fire.
*However, only Aura users can perform Blood Fire.
*Very few among the Earth Spirit Tribe can use Aura! Among them, only one 'priest' can use red Aura. If the priest dies without leaving a successor, the art of Cave Fire will decline.
+
The elder waved their hand through the flames.
Whooosh... oosh... oosh...
The once fiercely burning fire gradually diminished. Without sparks hitting and breaking on the ceiling, without flames rising and howling from the wood. The fire silently subsided without leaving a trace.
And it went out.
●.
Night had fallen.
With the fire extinguished, the cave was enveloped in complete darkness.
There was no light anywhere.
By extinguishing the fire, the elder had painted the last picture that Cave Fire could express. The darkness of the cave was no longer empty space. It was the picture the elder had painted.
-.......
The goblins saw the ‘night’ and quietly wept in the midst of it.
-……Gorr……
No one lit a torch. It was ● now. The goblins accepted the ●. Without anyone saying or commanding to leave, the goblins turned to leave on their own.
To sleep.
The goblins groped their way along the path they came from in the ●. Nothing could be seen in the ●.
But their scent lingered.
Sniffing the scent of their kin, the goblins returned home in groups. The Earth Spirit Tribe member with the best nose led the way. The other goblins followed, holding their hand or shoulder.
Thus, the goblins left the cave, their own temple.
"......."
Only I, the Guardian Spirit, and the elderly goblin priest remained in the underground temple of the underground world.
-Kerr… Kerrr…
The elder, seemingly exhausted, sat on the cave floor. This place seemed like their home. The goblins left some fish behind when they departed the temple, and the elder, sitting down, tore into the fish.
"......."
I silently observed the tribe that had set up a temple in the cave.
Here, the children of the earth conducted a funeral. They buried the death of their kin.
I had never taught them how to conduct a funeral. I hadn’t spoken about how to swallow death. What I taught was merely tattoos to mask the smell and paintings to represent six worlds.
Just that.
With just that, the Earth Spirit Tribe set up a temple. They found fire on their own.
“Even though I might be like a parent to these children..."
I spoke.
“They are not mine.”
They did not grow as I thought, nor did they grow as I expected. These children found their own way.
They learned how to accept death.
I was proud of that.
-Kerrr….
Leaving the old priest behind, I went up to the underground city.
‘I know what I should do for the kids.’
Not salvation, but support.
Not worry, but encouragement.
‘Supporting and encouraging these children. That’s my role.’
At the place where the Mountain Snail Tribe's giant pillar stood.
My colleagues, whom I had parted with yesterday, were gathered there. Had they, like me, visited their respective tribes? The Black Dragon Master silently stared at the ground, and Viper grimly crossed his arms.
“Ah. You’ve arrived, King of Death!”
The Heretic Inquisitor waved his hand.
“The King of Death is the last to arrive! Well. Have you made up your mind?”
“Yes."
I nodded.
“I can’t surrender to you, after all. I won’t let the children I nurtured lose their letters and forget their homeland.”
“Ahaha. Then?”
“I will help the Earth Spirit Tribe escape from your underground, Heretic Inquisitor.”
I said.
“And I will eliminate you from the 32nd floor.”
“Ahaha.”
The Heretic Inquisitor grinned broadly.
“I thought you would say that, King of Death. Just as expected! Good. I will stake the Mountain Snail Tribe, and you stake the Earth Spirit Tribe. Let us wage war with our races at stake!”
That was our declaration of war.
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