1.
The cave was filled with cold air. The goblins sniffled every now and then, and the cold moisture settled on their skin, but they didn't say anything.
An estimated 1,000 goblins all stood there, silent.
-Today, a great warrior died in the colosseum.
Then, one of them spoke in a soft voice.
-The warrior's name was Gyari. She was the daughter of Orogan and Gorhe, warriors of the White Main Tribe, descendant of Gorgir, and a great warrior who inherited the white lion tattoos.
The one who spoke couldn't be seen. They were buried in the crowd. Leaning against the shadows of the cave and their people, the goblin spoke. It wasn't a speech, since they weren't talking from an elevated position.
-She was a cool person. Keruk.
-Since she was a youngling, she used to beat up others. And now, she died from being beaten up.
Since it wasn't a speech, the goblins spoke freely. Inside the dark cave, the goblins here and there all said a few words, not caring if they cut each other off. Through the fragments of their words, the life of a person could be seen.
-Gyari never remembered hitting me.
-She won't remember now that she's dead. Kerr.
-She was always a feisty child. I remember. When she was young, Gorhe tried to tattoo Gyari. However, Gyari shook her head, saying that she wanted to tattoo herself, and copied the tattoos of others.
-Ker. Gyari always shook her head.
A life was assembled from the fragments. From one thousand short stories. A thousand tales which made up the story of a goblin called 'Gyari'.
I realized.
'…it's a funeral.'
A goblin had died in the match in the colosseum today. The name of that goblin was Gyari. And those who had known Gyari, who had at least talked to Gyari once, had gathered in the depths of the mine.
-For Gyari, hitting something with her knife was her world.
-She'd thought that way even as a child. Kerk.
-That's why she became a gladiator.
The bonfire flickered.
The shadows stretched across the walls. In the shadows, the goblins were indistinguishable. They were a crowd. The twisting shadows opened their mouths and murmured.
-36 people were slain by Gyari's blade.
-A merciless child.
-When the snails branded people with the sword mark, Gyari smiled. Kerker. She thought it was a great tattoo.
-A terrifying child.
-She was a child who only found happiness in cutting things, but the only battlefield that would allow that was the colosseum. The only enemies Gyari could face were her own people. Gork. It was Gyari's own bad luck that she had no choice but to kill her own people with the knives that made her happy.
-Kerrrk.
-It's hard to talk about it.
-An unfortunate child.
The bonfire flickered.
-Is Gyari one of our kind?
The shadows responded.
-Gor.
-Gyari drew tattoos. She was a talented artist. She loved the mud and missed rainwater.
-Gyari is one of us.
Then, an old voice spoke.
-Gyari has returned to Guru.
Guru.
It was a word I knew well.
As I watched the goblins continue their funeral with bated breath, I heard the Tower's voice.
[You have witnessed the Guru Doctrine of the Goblin Race.]
Then words appeared before my eyes.
+
[Guru Doctrine]
Classification: Religion. White Lion Belief.
Origin: [Tribal Consciousness (C)]
Description: 'Guru' is the homeland of all Goblins. Guru was the first village to be established by the Goblins after the fall of the Golden Era. Guru is the land of the Goblins. Guru is the place where the warm streams flow, and where the soft mud enfolds you gently.
Guru.
It was the last place the White Lion stayed.
The Goblins do not separate life and death. They only distinguish between 'Guru' and 'Not Guru'. The things Goblins desire are rainwater, mud, a lot of meat, and comfortable beds, all of which can be found in the present world. For the Goblins, belief in the afterlife is unnecessary.
The homeland of their race.
They all want to return to Guru.
※However, as time passes, memories of Guru will fade.
※If left to continue on this trajectory, 'Guru' will transform into an fathomless abstract place! In that case, Guru will change to the concept of 'A place that exists somewhere else, not in this world'.
※It has been quite some time since the Goblins lost their Guru! There is a possibility that the Guru Doctrine will become the 'Underworld' Doctrine!
+
"..."
I stared blankly at the information window.
There were words written there that were difficult for me to understand.
But there was one thing that only I could understand.
"A name that I came up with without really thinking about it. Guru."
My heart shook.
"...it means a lot to these kids."
Something.
I felt an emotion I'd never felt before.
It was weird. I was proud that the goblins had grown up so much without me. But I was afraid that everything I said without thinking would have a great meaning for these kids, and that I would have to live with it.
I was nervous.
I was worried about these children.
"Children...."
I realised.
"This is what it feels like to look at your children."
Up to this point, I'd never thought about having kids. I'd never thought about myself becoming someone's parent. But now, intentionally or unintentionally, I ended up playing a role similar to a parent for the goblins.
-Really? I never had any brats so I wouldn't know.
"..."
My heart pounded.
-Kerk.
An old goblin stepped out of the group. The bonfire continued to burn in the middle of the cave. When the goblin stepped in front of the bonfire, the goblins, who had still been tossing around stories of Gyari, fell silent.
Silence.
The old goblin waited until it was completely silent.
"...huh?"
Then he put his hands into the fire.
"Hold on. If you want to commit suicide then...."
-He's not. Look carefully, Zombie. His hands aren't burning.
Bae Hu-ryeong, who was behind me, cut me off.
-That guy knows how to use aura.
"Huh?"
-That guy. Is an aura user. Both of his hands are covered with aura.
Bae Hu-ryeong was right.
I couldn't see it very well because of the fire, but the goblin's wrinkled hands were definitely covered in aura. The aura was red. The old goblin buried both of his hands into the bonfire.
Fwoosh!
Then the flames soared.
The bonfire, which had been burning normally before then, bent strangely. The old man calmly used his aura to manipulate the flames. With the old man's touch, the flames soared into the air like a dragon, spun like a whirlpool, and blossomed like a flower at full bloom.
-...
-...
The goblins silently watched the ever changing flames. Like an audience, they simply looked at the performance.
Fwoosh. Swoosh!
The cave was huge, and the space above them was pitch black. So the flames were the only color that caught the eyes of those watching.
'Ah.'
Then I realized.
'He's drawing.'
That's right.
The old goblin was using fire to draw.
The flames continued to burn.
But each time, it burned differently.
The fire broke into two separate parts like jaws opening up before flying to the ceiling of the cave.
▲.
There was anger.
The fire hit the ceiling and scattered. The sparks slowly drifted down like flower petals. In the dark cave, the sparks twinkled before eventually disappearing. Now, only darkness remained.
▼.
There was sadness.
Flames were constantly burning in the bonfire.
It split again. This time like five fingers, it split into five parts going in five different directions.
However, these flames could not reach the ceiling. They couldn't catch the falling sparks. Between the sparks falling from the ceiling and the flame fingers rising from the ground, there was a stretch of air that couldn't be filled.
▼
▲.
That was Gyari's death and funeral.
The goblins wept silently.
Everyone who saw it could understand the meaning of the flames. It was their text. Their letters. Their drawings. Even the smallest spark had a clear meaning for the goblins.
The old man set the fire on fire.
[You have witnessed the Fire Painting of the Goblin Race.]
In the flickering flames, words appeared before me.
+
[Fire Painting]
Classification: Art.
Origin: [Primitive Fashionista (E)]
Description: Fire Painting is an artform unique to the Goblin Race. After being conquered by the Snail Race and brought to Rimepolis, the Goblins found it difficult to acquire mud. And it became difficult for them to create paintings.
'We have to draw.'
However, the aesthetic mindset of the Goblin Race didn't disappear.
'And we want to.'
Instead, it was set ablaze.
The Goblins decided to choose fire as a substitute for mud.
It was hard to see drawings in the dark caves. But with fire, the darkness of the cave became a huge drawing board. The Goblins accepted and made use of their cave life.
'Beautiful.'
They became fascinated with using fire for art.
'Gor.'
Cave fire.
The Goblins called it Fire Painting. Sometimes they painted in the caves so it was called 'Hole Fire'. Sometimes the flames looked like blood so they called it 'Blood Fire'. And sometimes they called it Blood Painting.(1)
The fire burns, then disappears, leaving no trace behind. Therefore it was easier to avoid getting caught by the Snail Race.
It was considered polite to remain silent while watching Fire Painting. This was also done to prevent getting caught by the Snails.
Good luck came from the tranquil fire.
※However, only aura users could demonstrate Fire Painting.
※Very few Goblins know how to use aura! Among them, only the 'priest' can use red aura. If the priest dies without leaving a successor, the art of Fire Painting will decline.
+
The old goblin waved his hands in the flames.
Fwoo… oo… sh
The fire, which once burned strongly, gradually died down. There were no longer any flames hitting the ceiling and becoming sparks. No longer any flames rising up to catch them. The fire dissipated quietly without leaving a trace.
The flames went out.
●.
Darkness fell.
-...
When the fire went out, the cave was immediately plunged into extreme darkness.
There wasn't even the slightest hint of light.
By extinguishing the flames, the old goblin ensured that the impact of the Fire Painting would linger. The darkness of the cave was no longer empty. It was filled with the memories of the old goblin's Fire Painting.
-...
The goblins looked at the darkness and wept quietly in the middle of the night.
-...gor...
No one lit a torch. It was now ●. The goblins accepted ●. No one told or ordered them to go back, but the goblins turned away on their own.
They were going to sleep.
The goblins walked along the path they took not so long ago. They couldn't see anything in ●.
However, their body odor remained.
By sniffing the scent of their race, the goblins were able to return home in groups. Those with the best noses took the lead. The other goblins followed them while holding each others' hands or shoulders.
And so, the goblins left the cave, their own little temple.
"..."
In the temple that they'd created underground, there was just me and Bae Hu-ryeong.
And the old goblin priest.
-Ker… Kerr….
The old goblin sat on the ground of the cave as though he had been sapped of his energy. It seemed that this was his home. The goblins left some fish behind when they left the temple, and the old man ate that fish as he sat.
"..."
I silently looked at the temple my race had created.
Here, the children of mud had held a funeral. They had commemorated the death of their kin.
I never taught them to hold funerals. I never taught them how to accept death. All I taught them was how to use tattoos to cover their stench, and drawings to express six words.
That was all.
With that alone, the goblins had created a temple. And they had found a way to use fire on their own.
"I may be the parent of these children, but…"
I opened my mouth.
"These children are not mine."
They hadn't grown in the way I had expected them to. These children had grown in their own way.
They learned how to accept death.
I was proud of them.
-Kerr…
Leaving the old priest behind, I headed up to the underground city once again.
'I know what I want to do for these kids now.'
Support, not salvation.
Encouragement, not concern.
'Supporting and encouraging these kids. That's what I need to do.'
The place where the huge pillar the Snails had created was located.
Our group, which had separated yesterday, were all gathered again. I wondered if everyone went to look at their races like I did. The Black Dragon Master was looking down at the ground silently, and Venomous Snake was frowning with his arms crossed.
"Ah. You're here, Death Lord!"
The Heretic Questioner waved his hand.
"The Death King was the last one! Now then. Have you made up your mind?"
"Yes."
I nodded.
"I can't surrender to you. I won't let the children I took care of lose themselves and forget their homeland."
"Ahh. Then?"
"I will help the goblins get out of your empire. Heretic Questioner."
I continued.
"And I will knock you out of the 32nd floor."
"Ahaha."
The Heretic Question smiled brightly.
"I thought you would make that choice, Death King. It's just as I expected! Alright then. I'll bet the snails, and you'll bet the goblins. Let's wage war on each other's races!"
That was the declaration of war between the two of us.