As the gray shell peeled away, it revealed a dark red surface where red and black swirled in harmony.
The raindrops pouring from the hole in the ceiling struck the dry branches, grew into fat beads, and fell onto the shell—each time they did, the shell began to emit a faint, glowing light.
Because it was a rainy night, the room had been cloaked in pitch-black darkness. But now, with every drop that hit the shell, the place lit up.
The more the glowing shell was bathed in rainwater, the clearer it became, and the moment it had fully soaked in the moisture, a vibrant luster returned to the surface.
And then, as soon as their full forms were revealed, Cheong-yu Sojeo and I shouted out in perfect unison:
“Wow!”
—Shia! 『Wow!』
Yes—“Wow.”
It might seem bizarre to hear a Western exclamation like “Wow” in the martial world, but in this case, it wasn’t just an exclamation.
The reason Cheong-yu Sojeo and I shouted the same thing at the same time was because that was their name: Wow.
“Wow” meant snail.
A spirit snail. A venomous snail. Never in my life had I imagined such a thing!
Once the gray crust flaked off, what emerged was a whirling snail shell.
Unlike the average snail’s shell, this one was unusually round—no wonder people had mistaken them for fruits hanging from the tree.
“If this isn’t the fruit of the Flora-Fauna-Grass-Tree category, what else could it possibly be!”
There had been a slight chance they were hermit crabs—marine crustaceans that also live in shells—but unless a crab claw popped out of that thing, these were undoubtedly snails.
Crabs only lived near the sea, and this wasn’t anywhere near the ocean, so the odds were practically zero.
That hardened gray outer layer must’ve been a kind of callus—dried snail mucus that had crusted over time. Which meant all my prior guesses—galls, egg sacs, cocoons—were off the mark.
“I never even considered this.”
A snail spirit beast.
In my previous life, the only venomous snails were marine species.
Nudibranchs, sea snails, and especially the Conus snails—those guys were no joke. A sting from a cone snail had no antidote and could kill you within minutes.
But land snails? They were always seen as the epitome of being slow, gentle, and docile.
It just didn’t compute that something like that could be venomous.
And even though I was a die-hard venomous creature lover, I’d never messed with marine animals. The logistics were just too much.
Maybe if I’d kept a few sea creatures in my past life, I’d have had a broader perspective. But terrestrial snails were for kids, and marine ones required tons of equipment and maintenance—so I’d never tried.
With lizards, thirty thousand won could get you a decent setup.
But a saltwater aquarium? Even a basic 40-cube tank would cost over a million won.
You needed a protein skimmer to extract waste from saltwater, a sump tank with high-capacity filtration, lighting that mimicked sunlight, algae filters for nitrate removal, saltwater-compatible pumps... way too many components.
“Wow were in hibernation all this time!”
—Shiiiii. 『Hibernation?』
Cheong-yu Sojeo tilted her head at my exclamation, curious about the word. I explained it to her.
“Yes, Cheong-yu Sojeo. Snails go into hibernation during dry seasons or cold winters. They retreat into their shells and seal the entrance with a hard membrane—that’s hibernation.”
—Shia! 『Ah! I’ve seen snails stuck to rocks, dried up like that!』
“Exactly. That’s hibernation.”
—Shii. 『But can they hibernate for hundreds of years?』
Hibernation is a critical survival adaptation used when environmental conditions are bad.
In winter cold or summer heat, snails go into hibernation or estivation to conserve energy and moisture, protecting themselves from predators and harsh environments.
Even normal snails can survive up to three years in that state, so if these were spirit creatures?
No—these two had to be alive.
And given how they were emitting light now, I was sure of it.
“They’re alive. No, they have to be. Look at them glowing like that—don’t you think they’re alive?”
—Sh–Shia. 『R-Right.』
Cheong-yu Sojeo looked a bit startled at my passionate answer.
Just then, the door opened and monks from Podarlap Palace entered—those who had been standing guard outside.
Seeing the hole in the ceiling, the pouring rain, and the glowing snails, they cried out in shock:
“This, this is—!?”
“L-Light!?”
“I’ll go summon Dorje Lama immediately!”
Honestly, they should’ve burst in the moment we smashed the ceiling. Must’ve dozed off during their shift or something—what a delayed reaction.
One of them ran outside in a panic.
The other one approached, dropped to his knees, and bowed deeply as he shouted:
“Heavenly Master! You’ve succeeded!”
I hadn’t wanted to be stuck with the Heavenly Master title, but the evidence was clear now. Still, since I’d already accepted it, I responded without hesitation and gave him an order.
“There may be danger. Please step outside.”
“Ah, understood!”
If this was one of the Twenty-Four Venoms, then it would definitely be venomous.
And according to the Secret Compendium of Venomous Creatures, this one was said to emit poisonous miasma.
So it was best to pull back.
That’s why I ordered the monks to withdraw, and I also moved the kids—those already awake and those still sleeping peacefully despite the chaos—back toward the entrance.
After all, just because they were venomous creatures didn’t mean they were immune to all poisons.
“Alright, everyone, wake up your sleeping siblings and pull back to the entrance.”
—Tssrr. 『Got it, Dad.』
—Biii!
—Chwararararak.
Bini wrapped herself around Ranghyang, who still looked confused, and took her toward the entrance. Yeondu bit Orange’s horn and dragged him along.
—Shaaa! 『Come on, wake up already!』
That Orange guy was still out cold, even in all this racket.
Seol and Bini picked up Dong and carried him to the entrance.
Just then—
As soon as all the kids had made it to the entrance, Cho, who had flown out through the hole in the ceiling, returned—widening the gap as she re-entered.
She was soaking wet—must’ve taken a little flight through the rain.
—Crash!
The hole got even bigger as Cho came back inside.
“Cho, come here!”
—Tssrr! 『Got it, Dad!』
—Ssssshhh.
Now that even Cho was back beside me, the rain was pouring directly onto the snails. It was a surprisingly heavy winter rain, and I could sense a stir of movement and noise in the distance—probably people being roused.
—Thud.
One of the fruits stuck to the tree fell to the ground with a dull sound.
The mucus that had dried and glued it to the tree must’ve dissolved in the rain.
Dried snail mucus hardens like a solid but melts away when exposed to water.
Some of it had cracked due to dryness, but—
—Thud.
Another shell dropped to the floor.
The first one to fall had flipped over, and water was now rushing into its opening. Moments later, the water that had flooded in started gushing back out.
It seemed the snail was waking up and trying to come out.
—Shia. 『Is it waking up?』
“Looks like it.”
The sounds of commotion were getting closer—and then, instead of water, eyes popped out of the shell.
From the opening of the snail’s shell, two long eyestalks emerged.
They waved around, scanning the surroundings. Then they paused—pointed toward us.
And then, inside my head, I heard a voice.
[Who are you?]
Apparently, it could transmit its voice ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) directly into our minds.
I turned toward the others—and sure enough, Cheong-yu Sojeo and all the kids were staring at me.
“You mean... all of you heard that?”
They all nodded, including Cheong-yu Sojeo.
So it wasn’t just me—we’d all heard it simultaneously.
Snails don’t have vocal cords. So was this telepathy? A transmission of thoughts?
Of course—this level of power was only fitting for the fruit of the Flora-Fauna-Grass-Tree lineage.
It was fascinating. I stepped forward and decided to introduce us.
“Hello. My name is So-ryong. We are the ones who woke you two from your slumber in this tree.”
I spoke politely—his voice had sounded like a middle-aged man—and emphasized that we had awakened both of them.
The kids nodded in unison beside me.
The snail, as if acknowledging our greeting, gave a tiny nod with its eyeballs and replied in a grateful voice:
[Ah, benefactors? I am greatly indebted to you.]
“No need to thank us. We simply did what had to be done. However...”
The snail seemed surprisingly polite and well-mannered.
I stepped forward to continue the conversation—but then the snail interrupted.
[Wait a moment. I must wake my wife.]
“Ah, of course. Go ahead.”
The snail, now fully emerged, flipped himself over and placed his partner—whom he referred to as his wife—beneath the falling water.
He must’ve wanted her to soak faster.
And moments later, just like the first, the second snail began to bubble and heave, ejecting water from inside.
Then—eyes emerged.
The one who woke up first had more black on his shell.
The one who just emerged now had more red.
[Hmm...]
[Are you awake? Is your body alright?]
[Yes. What about you? Oh my, you've gotten so big! Just how many years has it been?]
[I'm fine. But it seems quite a long time has passed.]
Normally, snails are hermaphrodites.
They have no fixed male or female sexes—every snail can both lay eggs and produce sperm at the same time.
But judging by how they referred to one another, and how they spoke, it seemed that these were different. Perhaps because they were spirit creatures, they did have genders.
After realizing they’d become part of our family, I’d been worried that we might have to refer to both of them as “sister” and “brother” at once—but thankfully, it seemed that wouldn’t be necessary.
‘Whew, that would’ve made explaining biology to the kids really awkward.’
As I silently sighed in relief, the two of them continued their conversation.
[Those children and the boy—who are they?]
[They’re the ones who rescued us.]
They sounded like an old married couple, polite and composed.
The female spirit snail even turned to us and gave a courteous greeting.
[I see. Thank you so much.]
“It was nothing. We’re just glad we could help.”
[No, truly. We owe you a great debt. It seems those wicked monks did something to keep us from waking up after we fell asleep. You have our thanks.]
[That’s right. Those rotten monks.]
As I listened, it became clear there was some bad blood between them and the monks of Podarlap Palace.
I asked carefully,
“You... had some kind of conflict with the monks?”
And then the two responded with bitter, angry voices.
[This was our home. But then one day those monks showed up and tried to drive us out. We fought them for years.]
[But they must have realized we hibernate in the winter—and while we were asleep, they must have done something to prevent us from waking in the spring.]
[Yes. Just look at the structure above and around us. It seems they enclosed us to block the spring rain from reaching us.]
Judging by what they said, the monks who had fled here—likely after being driven away by Muslim forces—had clashed with these snails after settling in this area.
Unable to defeat them directly, they waited until the snails went into winter hibernation, then built their structures over them—cutting them off from vital environmental conditions.
This was probably the only livable spot in the area.
That explained why the place had always felt so dry.
Just then—
I heard movement—no longer just in the distance. The presence I’d briefly forgotten was now close behind.
A chorus of monks suddenly shouted behind me:
“ALL of Podarlap Palace pays respects to the Heavenly Master!”
“We pay our respects!”
Now that my identity as the Heavenly Master had been confirmed, they were all lining up to bow in unison.
At that very moment—an abrupt, sharp sound pierced my ears.
—Sssiiing!
Something flashed past me and embedded itself between me and the monks of Podarlap Palace.
When I turned my head, I saw it clearly—a small, transparent, harpoon-shaped venomous dart.
‘A radula spike!?’
The radula spike is a venomous harpoon-like dart used by Conus snails. It’s launched from their proboscis to strike prey.
Launch speed: 1/5000th of a second.
It’s coated in conotoxin, a neurotoxin even more potent than tetrodotoxin.
Apparently, these spirit snails had something very similar.
So the “miasma” that was said to be emitted by these creatures in the Secret Compendium of Venomous Creatures and in Podarlap Palace’s records—wasn’t vapor at all. It was venomous harpoons.
Then came the cold voice of the snail.
[Benefactor... what is your relation to those wretched scum?]
—Bang!
I slammed the door shut before any more monks could enter, then quickly sent a sound transmission to Dorje at the front of the group.
“L-Lord Heavenly Master...?”
[It’s dangerous. Stay quiet and wait.]
It seemed they suspected I was somehow allied with Podarlap Palace.
Clearly, I would have to clear this up through conversation.
I needed to explain that I was just as much a victim here as they were.
