Snail Shaman

"Contact was cut off. Did the other side finally catch on?"

Lin Jin was deeply curious. Just now, as he absorbed faith power as part of his daily routine, he had suddenly sensed someone watching him.

Turning around, Lin Jin spotted a little pitch-black creature peeking at him from a distance.

Although its shape was somewhat different, Lin Jin recognized it after a closer look. It was a Snail Shaman from Hollow Knight.

A byword for forbidden power, a pitch-black being with no basic attacks-only ultimate moves.

He had no idea what the other party was up to, but to maintain his divine dignity, his opening words naturally had to sound as cryptic as possible.

Drawing on the descriptions of snails in the game data and information from the sequel, Silksong, Lin Jin made up a few terms on the spot, hoping to bluff the other party into submission.

After all, he had no way of knowing whether this one could set a trap like its kin and toss him into the Sea of the Unlight.

Until he obtained overwhelming power, every precaution was reasonable and necessary.

Although he had slowed his speech as much as possible, the other party still seemed unmoved.

After trying to communicate and receiving no response, Lin Jin finally lost patience. Curious, he reached out to touch it, wanting to see whether this was a screen or a portal.

But immediately afterward, with a sharp pop!, the black curtain shattered and vanished.

Lin Jin froze mid-motion. "What the hell is this Snail Shaman playing at?"

He did not know why, but that reaction definitely meant the other party had deliberately severed contact.

It seemed the other party had probably been frightened off by his bluff, but what if that was not the case?

Although Lin Jin appeared to be thriving, his foundations were unstable. One small setback would be enough to bring everything crashing down, so he inevitably had to think further ahead.

What if the other party mistook his restrained defensive counterattack for a declaration of war, then decided that, since death was inevitable anyway, it might as well turn this into an experiment and pull out some ancient secret art to take him down with it?

What if the other party discovered that an unfamiliar god had suddenly appeared here and decided to gather its kin for no reason beyond wanting to kill a god, then fire a Hyper Beam of destruction his way?

Thinking of the damage those possibilities could cause sent a shiver of belated fear through Lin Jin. He knew a great deal about Hollow Knight lore, but the Snail Shamans were the one race he dared not claim to understand inside out.

From what Lin Jin knew, the snails were all researchers skilled in soul spells. Almost every member of their race had a unique specialty, and they had no scruples about using any means available.

They did not worship gods, only power. No matter how twisted that power was, they would pursue it as long as it was strong enough.

Nor did they care what they might lose along the way. Even their own lives could serve as stakes in a gamble.

The sign that they had reached the end of their twisted path was when their white soul spells turned black, the color of the Abyss. This also meant they had indeed dabbled in the Abyss.

That was the Abyss. Only beings like the Snail Shamans would dare set their sights on such a thing.

With lore like that, it would almost be an insult to all their research if something did not go wrong.

The more Lin Jin thought about it, the more worried he became. He had never intended to make contact with the Snail Shamans this early, even if he had only just realized that a population of them existed here too.

And his first encounter with one had clearly been less than harmonious, so what should he do next?

Suppress them? Wipe them out? Have Gron lead the army after them immediately?

"Hahaha, give me a break," Lin Jin said, exasperated. "The grass on the grave of the last god who had that idea is already thirty feet tall."

In Silksong, the sequel to Hollow Knight, a group of snails had summoned the Sea of the Unlight with their astonishing ingenuity.

They had nearly-no, actually, they had already destroyed all of Pharloom.

That had not been their intention at first, but things tended to go wrong along the way. That was another defining trait of Snail Shamans.

Making enemies of them was absolutely out of the question. There was no imagining what sort of "brilliant ideas" Snail Shamans might come up with to get revenge.

Conversely, because Hornet had kept helping other bugs throughout Pharloom, she had left a wonderful impression on the Snail Shamans. That was why, in the end, they had been willing to sacrifice their own lives to help her.

That alone showed that kindness worked on Snail Shamans, but force did not.

The more viciously and brutally you treated them, the fiercer and more outrageous their retaliation would be. But if you offered them goodwill, they would never forget it.

"If I can't make enemies of them, how about winning them over?"

Lin Jin calmed down. After a long deliberation, he finally decided that peace was the best course.

Looking back on what had happened, the other party had probably chosen to cut off contact because it had realized how powerful he was.

That meant that, if he offered suitable compensation, he might actually be able to put the other party's abilities to use.

At that thought, Lin Jin's eyes flashed. He should not let himself get trapped in a flawed line of thinking.

Indeed, setting aside their dual nature of cowardice and madness, the Snail Shamans were a rather excellent group of researchers.

The so-called arts of this world were, in essence, different ways of using the soul.

Whether it was light, Spirit Thread, or the flames he had created himself, all of it was something the Snail Shamans could learn.

His Soulfire Arts were only just getting started. This was precisely when he most needed researchers in that field.

At the very least, one more ally was better than one more enemy.

"I'll send Gron a message."

The longer he delayed, the more uncertainty there would be. Lin Jin immediately transmitted a message to his Chosen of God.

He instructed him to devise an appropriate response to the Snail Shaman's spying, prioritizing communication and under no circumstances initiating hostilities.

Black Shell Plains

Bastion City

Through the tireless efforts of the craftsmen and soldiers, a medium-sized city suitable for long-term habitation had finally risen on the plains.

Settlers and supplies were arriving one group after another. They would be responsible for turning this place into a production base and a transfer hub for Expedition supplies.

To commemorate that harrowing defensive battle, the city had been named Bastion City.

The walls had been completely rebuilt, and the new temple was already operational. Bastion City could now develop independently. Once its supplies were replenished, the Expedition would resume.

The warriors were ready to march, but unfortunately, their leaders had other business to attend to.

"There are certainly advantages to launching our attack from the Fungal Wastes. For instance, we wouldn't need such a long supply line."

Mortas stated his position once again. This was already their third exchange.

The two of them had spent this time discussing which direction they should attack from.

Gron, who sat opposite the Mantis Lord, offered his own view at the appropriate moment.

He said with an almost perfectly straight face, "Even so, we only recently conquered the Black Shell Plains. Advancing from this direction would naturally be more secure."

This was a blatant distortion of the facts. Both participants knew perfectly well that they were spouting empty words. None of this was the real issue.

Yet political considerations prevented them from stating their demands outright.

Before the real discussion could begin, they needed to lay the groundwork. Those bureaucratic platitudes, along with the scribe recording their conversation nearby, were all part of that groundwork.

Mortas sighed inwardly. This was his first time working with someone whose intelligence and strength were on par with his own.

They both understood exactly what the other was thinking, yet even if it was nothing more than a show of formalities, they still could not speak plainly.

In the world of the mantises, only one voice was permitted: that of the Mantis Lord.

Still, this was not necessarily a bad thing. If he stubbornly clung to that "power," he would never see the wider world.

As for challenges, Mortas was more than willing to accept them. His clan was growing stronger, and all of it depended on his next victory.

Just as Mortas composed himself and prepared to continue laying the groundwork for their formal discussion, orange-red flames suddenly flared in the eyes of his superior across the table.

The scribe taking notes looked startled at first, then excited, and began writing even faster.

"Our Lord?" Mortas immediately realized what was happening. It seemed the Sunfire God was sending a message to his Chosen of God.

After all, the Sunfire God had encountered the Ashen Clan first. The mantises could not compete with that.

Watching the unusual change in the Chosen of God, Mortas began to worry. Was their lord calling them to account for the Expedition's slow progress?

Before long, Gron emerged from that state.

Then he issued an order.

"Summon the troops and assemble immediately. We will begin advancing toward the Sacrificial Grounds."

"Yes."

Mortas rose, saluted, and immediately headed outside.

He offered no objection. Their earlier discussion had merely been a dispute over interests between mortal bugs.

Now that a direct command from their lord had arrived, nothing else mattered.