WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ SSS-Class Revival Hunter ◈
Chapter 171: Battle for the Holy Land (1)
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1.
Some people compare the sight of human lives being lost in war to “flowers falling splendidly.” I can say with certainty that those people have never been dropped into the middle of a battlefield themselves.
-Uoooooh!
-Push the gate! Shove it open!
-Grrrr, kruk!
Right before my eyes, a head was severed, and then, with a crunch, a giant axe crushed a soldier along with their armor.
The sound of flesh tearing, the thunderous crash of metal breaking, the groans of soldiers... On the battlefield, lives bubbled and burst like foam in a heated swamp.
"Wait a moment. What’s happening here?"
The Black Dragon Master spoke in confusion, not startled by the horrors of battle, but rather bewildered by our sudden teleportation into the thick of it.
"Princess, what’s going on... She's not here. Does anyone have a quest window open?"
"No."
"Nothing here!"
"How inconsiderate."
The Black Dragon Master clicked her tongue.
"Are they expecting us to figure out the situation on our own? The [Librarian] might have been a bit odd, but at least a kind Constellation... Sigh. Everyone, let's fly up and survey the situation from above. It’ll be clearer then."
With a tap, the Black Dragon Master jumped off the ground.
"Huh?"
But she didn’t take flight.
She frowned, puzzled.
"...What? We can't fly?"
Her observation was accurate.
Up until the 31st and 32nd floors, we had the freedom to fly. We could even observe beyond the horizon. It was as if we had transcended.
‘It seems the real challenge begins now.’
I understood the hidden meaning behind this anomaly.
‘It's actually a good thing. Whether it's skills or powers, if we get too comfortable with them, our senses as hunters dull. In case of any unforeseen accidents, in the worst-case scenario, I can just turn back time.’
I looked around.
Currently, we were virtually invisible. Decapitated heads soaring through the air, splattering blood, all passed through our bodies freely. Having someone’s internal organs sweep through my body was not a pleasant experience, but...
"There are several races involved in this battle, not just one or two."
Focusing, I could easily observe the surrounding situation.
"The Pure Humans Race, the Fairy Tribe, the Ghost Tribe... It's a multi-race coalition. They seem to be fighting each other, but they’re actually on the same side. Each race appears to be handling a different military role. The Pure Humans Race forms a shield wall for infantry, the Fairy Tribe are archers... and the Ghost Tribe is the cavalry."
I narrowed my eyes.
"In the air, the Vampiric Tribe is flying around. Hmm, I don’t see the Gill-Fin Tribe, but it seems like these are the races that used to be slaves in Slimepolis, now united as a coalition."
“Then the enemy is…”
"Yes."
I nodded.
"Most likely the Mountain Snail Tribe."
The coalition army roared, gradually pushing their formation forward. Surrounded by soldiers, it was hard to grasp the overall progress of the battle, but I could sense that the tide was turning.
"This won’t do. If we just stay here, we won’t be able to do anything other than befriending corpses."
The Black Dragon Master grabbed my hand.
“I’ll go scout with the King of Death. It’ll be hard to regroup if we scatter, so the rest of you wait here. King of Death, are you all right with that?”
I realized what the Black Dragon Master intended to do. Teleportation. She planned to scout using her exclusive skill, which could transfer not only herself but also others, provided they consented to the skill’s use.
"Yes."
"Good."
Black aura seeped from her, gripping my wrist.
"Teleport!"
The next moment, we were in the air. Below us, thousands of soldiers swarmed like insects. As we began to fall, pulled by gravity, the Black Dragon Master used her skill again.
"Teleport!"
For a brief moment, our fall halted.
"...Are you going to use teleportation every time we start falling to stay in place?"
“What else can we do if we can’t fly? Teleport. After a long career as a hunter, I’ve learned this: Teleport. The more you use a skill like a trick, the more useful it becomes. Teleport.”
"Wow, that’s really not stylish at all…"
"Does style feed you? Teleport. I’m busy using my skill, so you take a look at the ground."
"Yes, ma’am."
We managed to achieve a sort of floating step in the void, meticulously surveying the battlefield.
“Huh.”
I was soon gripped by a strange sense of familiarity.
“This landscape looks familiar…”
"You’re right. I also have this vague feeling of recognition."
“This isn’t a pitched battle. It’s a siege.”
As we suspected, the Mountain Snail Tribe was the opposition facing the coalition. They had established their base at the entrance of a massive cave, which seemed to serve as both their fortress wall and gate.
"...Isn’t that Slimepolis?"
The city remembered for the historic mass escape of slaves.
Now, the former slaves, no longer bound, were attacking it.
2.
“It has become a holy land,” said the Sword Saint.
We shared the information we had gathered.
"I heard soldiers in the Pure Humans Race camp chattering. They were confident that this expedition would surely reclaim the holy land. Since they referred to it as [this] expedition, it seems this isn’t their first assault on Slimepolis."
"Ah, I got that info too. This is the 6th expedition."
The Viper raised his hand.
"For hundreds of years, coalition forces have been formed repeatedly to pressure the Slime Empire. It’s nearly obliterated now, with only Slimepolis remaining unconquered."
"Holy land... Another troublesome term."
The Black Dragon Master pressed her forehead, clearly disgusted.
"If I had to pick the three words I hate the most in the world, they’d be terror, holy land, and heresy. Ahh, at the dawn of the Tower, all sorts of heretics flocked here, shouting, 'This is the true holy land! The Tower of Babel, newly granted by God!'"
"The [Neo Babylonian Church], right?"
The Paladin folded her arms.
"To be precise, they were the milder ones. I remember the heretics who screamed, 'This is R'lyeh!' and caused chaos."
I tilted my head in confusion.
"R'lyeh? What’s that?"
"I’m not entirely sure. It’s a city from some novel, said to be sunk in the deep sea."
"But the Tower isn’t in the deep sea, is it?"
The Tower exists everywhere and nowhere.
If anything, from the outside world, the Tower is more like a 'mirage'.
No matter where one looks from, whether from Seoul or Busan, from Korea or Chile, the Tower’s shadow can be seen on the horizon.
As if beckoning one to flee here.
"These are heretics who take fiction literally. Don’t expect rational thinking from them. By the way, some of them are still active under the banner of the Pantheon Guild."
"Eh, is that okay? They’re lunatics."
"Why do you think we continue to entrust the Temple to the Heretic Inquisitor? To rule over madmen, you need someone even madder than them."
“Indeed…”
The Pantheon is even more of a hellscape than I thought.
The Black Dragon Master sighed, surveying the surroundings.
“It would be quickest to leave such problems to the Heretic Inquisitor… Of all times to be eliminated. When he’s actually needed, he’s not here.”
The battle took a brief pause.
Just like the air cools slowly after a hot early summer day, the battlefield, which had been fierce throughout the day, was now quiet under the evening twilight. Soldiers of the multi-racial coalition were preparing their dinner.
"Of all places, it had to be a holy land..."
"It makes sense that Slimepolis is considered a holy land."
I chimed in.
"It’s the land where the guardian gods of all seven races have descended. It's natural to regard it as sacred. From the Mountain Snail Tribe to the Pure Humans Race, the Vampiric Tribe, the Gill-Fin Tribe, the Ghost Tribe, and the Fairy Tribe, it would be considered a holy land to all of them."
The Sword Saint nodded.
"So, the Mountain Snail Tribe is defending it, while the other races are attempting to reclaim it."
“And it’s the last remaining city of the empire… Neither side can easily back down.”
For the multi-racial coalition, there’s a history of being oppressed as slaves by the Mountain Snail Tribe. It’s a complex mix of faith, grudge, and politics. It’s not something that can be easily resolved.
"Ugh."
The Black Dragon Master groaned.
“It's strange. Before clearing the last stage, I had sternly told the Vampiric Tribe children that there is no god, and even if there is, I am not one. Could my teachings have been lost…?”
“Ah, I did something similar.”
I was intrigued by the Black Dragon Master's words.
“What did you spend your points on, Black Dragon Master?”
“[Race Evolution].”
Oh.
I thought the Black Dragon Master would be the type to save and accumulate points, like a frugal hamster.
“That’s quite a big investment. Unexpected.”
"......"
The Black Dragon Master stared at me blankly, then sighed as if I were clueless.
“…I eavesdropped on your item choice.”
“What?”
“I took your choice as a reference. I thought it must be a good item if you chose it, so I picked the same.”
“Isn’t that too much of a copycat move?”
“Shut up. What’s wrong with following a successful person’s lead?”
“Wow, totally shameless... Vampiric Tribe are intelligent bats, right? It's interesting to think how they might evolve.”
“I don’t know. Maybe they’ll turn into vampires?”
“Shh."
The Paladin raised her hand, pointing to one side of the military camp.
“It’s getting noisy.”
We immediately fell silent. As the Paladin said, there was a commotion in the coalition camp. Soldiers who were having dinner hurriedly gulped down their naan bread and gathered somewhere.
“Let's check it out.”
We all clung to the Black Dragon Master and teleported. “Feels like I’ve become a mother pig…,” she grumbled, but it was the fastest method.
At the entrance of the camp.
There stood hundreds of warriors in formation. These were warriors of a race that was neither the Gill-Fin Tribe, the Vampiric Tribe, the Pure Humans Race, the Ghost Tribe, nor the Fairy Tribe.
A Pure Humans Race commander spoke to them.
“Warriors of the Wetlands, what brings you here? We are an alliance bound by a holy oath to avenge old grievances. Do not intrude here with sword and spear.”
“Ugor.”
The leader of the warriors nodded lightly.
“I am Gerkessada, a Great Warrior ranked seventy-third in the Fire River Council and commander of this expedition’s vanguard. A distant ancestor of mine mined rock salt in Slimepolis. Our swords are not yet pointed at you, so be at ease.”
The Earth Spirit Tribe.
The race I guided had arrived at the coalition camp mounted on lions.
“An expedition? Did the people of the Wetlands not declare that they would stay out of this war?”
“We said we wouldn’t join your expedition, not that we wouldn’t participate in the war.”
An Earth Spirit Tribe warrior spoke calmly.
“The Council decided to join the war, albeit belatedly.”
“What? Joining the war?”
“Ugor. As a noble representative of the Council, I’ve come to inform you of this decision. We have no intention to ambush or betray you.”
Interesting. It’s clear that 600 years have passed.
‘Their way of speaking has become quite archaic.’
Until the previous stage, the Earth Spirit Tribe’s distinctive accent had remained strong, with a “goruk” bursting out at the end of every sentence. Almost no trace of it remained in this warrior’s speech now.
Even their pronunciation had grown rounder, with “goreu” now sounding closer to “ugoeu.”
-Wait... Isn’t their speech the least of our concerns...?
-They’ve gotten enormous, these guys!
Indeed.
The Earth Spirit Tribe, previously of dwarf stature, had grown nearly twice in size. They were as big, if not bigger, than the Pure Humans Race.
‘[Race Evolution] has successfully occurred.’
Larger than humans but smaller than orcs.
-Krrr.
Even more notably, they rode lions as big as themselves. The lions snorted, glaring at the Pure Humans Race commander, who stepped back nervously.
-They won’t bite.
The Earth Spirit Tribe warrior patted the lion's mane.
-This one is a kind friend. Don’t worry.
-What do you mean by joining the war? If you’re not with our expedition, does that mean you’re siding with the Mountain Snail Tribe? Make it clear. Are you here as a herald of war?
-By the name of Kekerkker and Gorke, I swear, we are not.
Swearing in Gorke’s name too?
The little guy finally made it big.
-We have taken the field only to prevent sin from being committed in the name of the gods.
-Sins? Sins?
-Yes. You are committing a wrong. The guardian gods never wished for us to annihilate the Mountain Snail Tribe. When we sought revenge during the Great Escape, the gods turned away. Their will is clear and distinct.
The Earth Spirit Tribe warrior bared their teeth.
-Further war is neither honorable nor sacred. Taking away the last refuge of the Mountain Snail Tribe, who whipped us, is just as cruel.
-What...
-Enough with revenge. Fellow chained ones.
The Earth Spirit Tribe chief warrior spoke.
-Stop the fight. We have come to end this age-old war.
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