Chapter 31: (part 2- Strengthening, physically and courage)
The snail slowly looked up at me, its strange glowing eyes locking onto mine. One thing was certain—it was the most unique-looking snail I had ever seen.
"Weirdo"
Then, without warning, a thin blue beam of light shot out from its mouth and struck my hand. A sharp, itchy pain spread across my skin, like being bitten by a fire ant. I flinched and quickly pulled my hand back, stumbling a step backward to avoid another hit.
The snail's body began to glow faintly, its shell gloeing with blue light. The other snails around it started to move, turning toward me as if following someones command. Their slimy bodies dragged slowly across the ground, leaving slimy trails behind them.
I took a few steps back, then turned and started to run, hearing the nightless snail squelch of his movements behind me. Him and the other moss crawlers were incredibly slow—maybe only 0.013 kilometers, or about 0.008 miles per hour—but the sound the nightless snail made me have unwanted goosebumps.
A shrill, yapping noise echoed through the forest, sounding exactly like an angry chihuahua.
"Tkkk! Yip-yip-yip!!! (Who are you!!!)" (ꐦ°᷄д°᷅)
The snail kept crawling and crawling, its slimy trail glimmering faintly in the morning light. It finally stopped barking, and then the blue beam flashed again from its mouth. I quickly took a step back, the thin light can be seen through the air where my hand had just been. My pulse jumped for a second, but I steadied my breathing. Turning my head, I walked away at a calm, steady pace, pretending I wasn't bothered.
"I'm going now"
When I looked back, the snail had a stunned expression. Its wide glowing eyes stared at me silently. It didn't shoot another beam, nor did it bark again—it just froze, motionless.
As I continued walking, I spotted a group of stonecap mosscrawlers ahead of me. Their movements were slow and strange, as if something was controlling them. I crouched down, my shadow stretching over the mossy ground. The damp misty air clung to my skin as I reached out and grabbed one of them. Its shell was rough and cool, covered in patches of green and brown moss. I decided to take it for dinner, lifting it carefully into my hand before heading back toward the cave, leaving the silent nightless snail behind.
"Should I go kill that nightless snail too—for food?" I muttered under my breath.
But then, SOMETHING/SOMEONE hesitated voice echoed in my head.
"D-don't... don't try to kill it or harm creatures like that. They can't be eaten anyway—they're toxic... and weak. Doing so will only bring BAD LUCK to you."
I paused for a moment, frowning, then sighed and kept walking. The forest air was cool, and the faint glow of the moss reflected off the wet rocks as I made my way back.
When I arrived at the cave, I killed the stonecap mosscrawler, chopped it into small pieces, and dropped them into the boiling pot. The fire crackled, and the smell of moss and steam filled the air. I added a handful of salty, peppery, and sour berries I had gathered earlier.
After a while, the bubbling sound became steady. I took a bowl, scooped up some of the soup, and blew gently on the surface to cool it down. Steam rose softly against my face. I took a sip.
"Ahhh... it's warm," I whispered.
Then I picked up a piece of the snail and bit into it. It wasn't chewy like before—it broke apart easily between my teeth. The taste was rich and comforting: warm, savory, spicy, slightly salty, and a little sour. Its texture was smooth and soft, almost like squid.
"This is better than I expected," I said quietly. "It actually has more flavor this time. Not that plain, dull taste anymore. I'm glad I found those berries."
Two months and eighteen days passed.
While walking toward the springs, I saw another strange creature — a frog. It was large, with smooth dark green skin and sharp, judgmental eyes. It sat upright, almost proud, with two big round black-purple sacs hanging behind it, dripping faintly.
"Croak~ croakkkk~ croaaak!!! (Who dares stare at my magnificent body, you lowly peasant.) (ಠ_ಠ)
SOMETHING/SOMEONE spoke. "That frog's name is Madam Croakwell, the queen of frogs. She can command others at will. Those sacs behind her are filled with acid and poison strong enough to burn your skin and kill you."
SOMETHING/SOMEONE said. "Don't try to kill it for food. It's not worth it." I was a bit surprised he didn't tell me to kill it this time as well, and I replied. "Okay, I won't kill it... but I swear those eyes just insulted me."
The next day, two months and nineteen days passed.
While I walked to the east side of the forest, the sound I knew came again — louder, ugly and many: "Krrh-rrh! Shhk-hk! Greehhk!" I dropped into a crouch, parting ferns with one hand, and peered through the shadows. A cluster of goblins hunched together, their shoulders jerking as they hissed and chattered like rats.
"There are... goblins," I whispered. My eyes widened. My hands trembled, but the shaking eased. Running felt wrong; my mind kept looping on a bow — anything to strike from a distance and keep my hands clean. There was no bow, and I didn't know how to use one. "Should I attack them now?" I mouthed.
"No... we—shall we go back. Think of something that can kill one or two. I won't help you this time," SOMETHING/SOMEONE said. I left, but curiosity pulled me back. For three days I watched: they slipped into the grove at noon and melted away into the dark at dusk.
At dawn on the fourth day I asked SOMETHING/SOMEONE to teach me a trap. He laughed. "I will teach you," he said. I dug where they gathered — four feet deep, wide enough for a man — my arms burning with each scoop. I drove sharpened stakes into the pit, points up, laid thin branches of the bushes across the rim, then hid them with a lattice of twigs, dried leaves, and a thin dusting of soil so it matched the forest floor. I ducked behind a ring of giant mushrooms near the trap and waited for noon, heart slow and steady, to see if the trap would work.
"I will wait here until noon comes."
Then a group of goblins came, chattering in their crooked tongue just like before. They walked into the forrest, unaware. One of them stepped on the trap — the ground broke beneath its feet — and it fell with a scream. "REEEHHH!! KRRRHH!!" The others froze, then scattered in panic, their cries echoing through the trees.
When the forest went quiet again, I approached the hole slowly. The goblin was still alive, twitching weakly. "Kkhhhrrgh... rrkkhh..." Blood dripped from its mouth. A sharpened stake had pierced its belly and shoulder, another through its thigh. It tried to breathe, but only choked and gasped.
"Kill it now. It's for your survival," SOMETHING/SOMEONE said.
I gripped my sword with both hands. My fingers shook. I nodded once, swallowed hard, and stabbed its chest. The blade sank deep. Its eyes, full of life, were now lifeless; its body, once full of power, was now motionless, and cold began to take over.
My arms trembled as I lifted the blood-covered sword. "I... guess I'm not really ready to kill something like this," I said quietly.
"Are you really ready for such a thing?" SOMETHING/SOMEONE asked.
"I need to be," I replied, voice unsteady. "If I want to survive... I just did what's right for my safety." The guilt still feels heavy in my chest, but I didn't vomit this time. There was no excuse anymore — I had killed it not like before I did it in my own.
In the following days, I built more traps and repaired the old ones. Each day, goblins died. I patrolled the area, checked the traps, and ended the ones still struggling — one by one for days to weeks.
I started having courage and chased the goblins, taking them down one by one. I wasn't strong enough to face them all at once, so I had to be careful, striking quickly and retreating before the next one could overwhelm me. But still I felt guilty for such an action of killing.