In the beginning, there was Lime. The snail people didn’t know where Lime came from and where they went but, before they vanished, they chose the Shellmounts as the best species. They received evidence that they were the chosen ones.
“Although there are many species in this world, you are the only ones who can perfectly pronounce the word ‘Lime.’ I’ll allow only you to use the holy name. Ah! This is your power. You should regard ‘Lime’ as proof that you have been chosen. For the rest of your life, always recite ‘Lime’ no matter what you do—eat, poop, put on or take off your clothes, in your sleep, or as soon as you wake up, in order to prove my existence...”
“What kind of crap is this?” I asked.
The Inquisitor beamed. “This is the scripture I made!”
“Yes! The vocal cords of Shellmounts are very unique. Among the seven species, only they can pronounce ‘Lime!’ Therefore, this is the name I chose for their god.”
The Inquisitor nimbly landed on solid ground, with my colleagues and I following closely behind. His smile was glued to his face as he told us the history of the snail civilization.
“Neither Skians nor Sylvans can pronounce ‘Lime’ correctly simply because their vocal cords are different!”
Snails crawled around. They passed right through us, completely unaware of us, as if we were ghosts.
“But I gave the word a mythological meaning by telling the Shellmounts that their ability to pronounce ‘Lime’ is proof of being chosen by the heavens!”
The Paladin asked, “But why? Why did you do that, Inquisitor? You know the horrors of religion better than anyone else. If you play god, there’s no turning back—”
“Oh, I wasn’t careless at all. Quite the contrary!”
It seemed as if the Paladin wanted to argue back, but she did no such thing.
The Inquisitor continued to smile brightly. “Use is different from misuse, and even more so from abuse. Everyone, at least one religion was bound to be created one day! No matter the world, creatures always try to find the reason for their existence and their world. Gods are just the magical beings that provide answers to everything!”
The Inquisitor pointed to a huge pillar in the middle of the underground city that reached the ceiling, lined with paintings resembling Egyptian murals. The “scripture” he mentioned to us earlier was also engraved on this very pillar.
“Miss Paladin, I know what you’re trying to say, but there are still so many things the species of this world don’t know in this day and age. They don’t know why it rains, why their heart pounds, or why they have to drink water to survive. Think of that as fear,” the Inquisitor concluded, his cheerful smile turning into a grin.
“Yes, fear,” the Inquisitor replied. “Their heartbeats are fueled by it. Heartbeats can be heard, but these creatures don’t know why their hearts pound. When they get hurt, they bleed. If they lose too much blood, they die, but they don’t know why blood flows in their veins. They have no idea why bread is delicious, why it makes them happy when it appeases their hunger, or why they have to eat salt to survive.”
The Inquisitor put his hands together as if he was praying. “For them, the world is surrounded by unknown monsters! Such monsters are lurking even within them. Completely clueless, these creatures just live their lives, ignorant and helpless until they die... Do you guys understand their fears now?”
On the other side of the vast cave, snail miners were digging for rock salt.
“A god gets rid of this ignorance and powerlessness to some extent. Rain is no longer an unknown monster. It’s a god’s tears as they occasionally cry.”
Shedding mucus, the snail miners excavated rock salt by grabbing sharp stones and swinging their tentacles.
“Now salt is no longer a strange rock. When Primordial Mother Earth was torn apart and died, her hair became a forest, her blood became the sea, and her teeth became salt. Salt is seen as a god’s remains. Therefore, it is sacred and safe to eat. Haha! In today’s terms, a myth is like a certificate of health for food!”
The Inquisitor’s posture looked pious. In a soft voice, he kept chanting, seemingly with no intention of stopping anytime soon.
“And the god says that their people were born because of them. They care about their loyal subjects. Do you understand? Only by looking up at a god can people finally find answers to the unanswered questions of their lives.”
Nobody tried to argue with him, but it wasn’t as if we had anything to say.
“Everyone, imagine this with me!” the Inquisitor continued, still smiling. “The heartbeat that resonates from within your chest is no longer an unknown monster’s moans. The god designed their people in their own image, so heartbeats are a melody composed by the god. Therefore, people can overhear their god’s music anywhere, anytime. Isn’t that beautiful...?” the Inquisitor asked with a sigh.
He looked around with delight at the underground city, the world he had created. “Now my people are free from the life of living as they live. Finally, they escaped from the fate of minikins, and have found purpose in their lives.”
The lives of the snail people had meanings. Their god loved them.
“They constantly build temples and huge wonders to dedicate them to their god. Their existences are proof that their god loves them. Isn’t that so cool and thrilling? Everyone, the species of this era are professing their love and devotion to the world!”
“All love needs proof and effort. Instead of being buried in fear and suffocating, my people struggle to win their god’s love! Even though this love is nothing but a misunderstanding, sometimes people need misunderstandings to live in peace. I bless my snail people!”
The Inquisitor ended his prayer and spread his arms wide. “You may consider religion a necessary evil, but all necessary evils are born from necessary good. These guys still need a god! Because of their god, they can breathe, live, and love.”
That was the Inquisitor’s belief.
“Humans always need reasons, even for appreciating a flower or crying over its wilting petals. A god gives them infinite reasons! Primordial gods never exterminated humanity. People can understand themselves and love the world because there is a god watching over them!”
Silence fell. Only the sound of the miners digging up the rock salt could be heard. I slowly turned and looked around the underground city.
“Slaves, work faster, Lime!”
“The break finished long ago, laime! Load the stones and take them to the docks! Quickly!”
The snails clung to the stone wall and waved their tentacles.
The slaves carrying their loads bent their knees, groaning, though they didn’t stop walking. Perhaps they were already used to being whipped.
“One, two. One, two...”
Among them were Skians, the species led by the Viper. The creatures with one horn on their foreheads were used to carrying heavy loads.
“Shish, shi, shishhhh...!”
Fingills, the Paladin’s species, swam in the river leading outside the mine, pulling the galleys with ropes connecting their torsos with the ships’ bows.
“Pirrrrrr! Baa! Pir!”
Bloodborns, the Black Witch’s species, were flying around the mine non-stop. The bats were clutching onto scrolls of letters and other odd objects, delivering mail to the citizens to all sides of the mine.
The Inquisitor noticed where I was looking and smiled. “Ah, this is what the mine of Slimepolis, the capital of the snail civilization, looks like. The capital’s specialty product is rock salt. According to myths, this is the place where Primordial Mother Earth’s head dropped when she died! The Shellmounts believe this mine is her skull, and the rock salt is her teeth! Supplying these sacred teeth fragments throughout the empire is the civilization’s main industry. The Shellmounts have control of the empire through this salt trade.”
The Black Witch groaned. “That’s amazing, but... Two hundred years? It doesn’t make sense. How did you endure staying here for two hundred years?”
“Hmm? We’re in some sort of spiritual state during these stages, right? Enduring two hundred years is easy!”
“No, it isn’t... We’re talking about two hundred years.”
“Ah, I see what you’re trying to ask! I possessed a white dog. When it died, I possessed its descendant.”
“No, I actually... Nevermind.”
The Black Witch shook her head in resignation. My other colleagues’ reactions weren’t much different.
The Inquisitor beamed and added, “The puppies of the bloodline that I possess have been worshiped as divine animals! They stay at the imperial palace and the temple. Today, the thirty-fourth divine animal died, so I was about to possess the thirty-fifth. Coincidentally, that was when you guys showed up! Let me greet you again. Welcome!”
We didn’t greet him in return. Behind him, there was a huge pillar, and beyond, a sphinx-like statue. To put it in simple words, the statue was a giant Welsh corgi. It was easy to guess what kind of dog the Inquisitor had been possessing.
I heard a crying sound that was all too familiar to me.
“Kerrrrr, kerrrr! I dedicate today’s glory to our sacred White Lion! Ker!”
“I offer my blood to the citizens of the Great Slimepolis! Gor!”
Two goblins used the swords in their hands to strike at their shields. They were standing on a mudflat surrounded by countless cheering snails.
“Lime, I bet all my money on you today, you dirty fungus!”
“Kirke! Today is the day she gets taught a lesson! Kill her!”
The goblins roared after hearing the cheers of the crowd. They charged at each other, splashing mud around as they swung their swords to strike the opponent’s shield.
Rough and scary metal sounds rang out. The cheers from the snail spectators grew louder.
“You shell-less barbarian! Swing your foreleg! Laime! Chop him with your foreleg!” [1]
“What are you doing? Move, you idiot! Lime! Lime!”
For a moment, I was speechless. “Gladiators? They’re gladiators?”
The Inquisitor’s smile was in full bloom. “Yes, though they’re called sword slaves here!”
The goblins howled and swung their swords. Blood spurted because they were unable to fully defend themselves with their shields. Geometric markings covered their skin.
“Terras are famous for being brave and clever! They are the most favored species as they are known as sword slaves not just in Slimepolis, but in the entire Slime Empire.”
The wounded goblin screamed. Her opponent did not miss that opportunity. He quickly grabbed the knife in reverse grip and plunged it into the other goblin’s neck. The audience cheered upon seeing blood spurt out.
[A quest has started.]
The Great Snail Empire: Terras.
Goal: Complete subjugation of other species unification is imminent. The main culprits behind this subjugation are the Shellmounts. Using a highly developed governmental system and their religious organization, they subjugated other species one after another and turned them into slaves. All the species will bow at the snail’s mucus unless something is done.
You have to rescue the Terras from the oppression of Shellmounts!
※If the exodus fails, the thirty-second stage will end with the victory of the Shellmounts.
This floor’s quest was an exodus.
1. The Shellmounts see the goblins as animals, therefore referring to their arms as forelegs. ☜