The Harsh Terms of Residency
"The terms of residency are pretty brutal, aren't they?"
Thud. Thud.
A square box dropped out of thin air, landing in the crevice of a rock leading toward the entrance of the canyon.
"What is that?" Bjorn and Torvi approached cautiously to inspect it. It was a box of chocolate bars, wrapped in plastic.
Then, about ten paces away from the box, a smooth piece of metal fell from the sky with a metallic clatter. This time, it was a massive jungle knife—a machete—with a black plastic handle.
Ten paces further, a bottle of water rolled onto the ground.
"This is..."
Bjorn and Torvi exchanged meaningful glances. They weren't being given food and weapons all in one place.
Like the breadcrumbs in a fairy tale, the items were being dropped at regular intervals, guiding them in a specific direction out of the canyon.
"Elder... it's as if they're luring us to follow, picking up these items as we go," Torvi said. Bjorn nodded heavily.
"I think so, too. They’re signposts for our next destination."
Bjorn picked up the machete from the ground and swung it through the air. The lightweight, sharp feel was incomparable to the crude, low-quality steel swords of humans. He didn't know if this Outer God was leading them to a slaughterhouse or a true sanctuary at the end of the road, but the dwarves had no right of refusal.
"Let's follow these markers. We have no other choice, not with our wagon smashed to pieces. And considering they’re bestowing such precious weapons and food upon us to keep us alive, it’s clear they don’t intend to toss us into a pot and boil us just yet."
Bjorn tucked the machete into his belt and turned around decisively.
"Get up! Wake everyone! We’re leaving this godforsaken canyon!"
At the old dwarf’s booming shout, the sleeping children rubbed their eyes and pulled themselves up.
The group carefully made their way out of the canyon. They moved forward, picking up the various odds and ends the Outer God had dropped at regular intervals.
Before long, a wide-open plain appeared in their view. It must have been a vast, peaceful pasture where plump cows and sheep once grazed leisurely. But the current pasture, encroached upon by the filth spread by the dirty minions of the Outer Gods, was literally a living hell.
The green grass of the pasture had turned into a deep red mud pit, covered in rotten blood and sticky filth. And upon that polluted earth, hundreds of giant maggots, each the size of an adult’s body, were writhing and scattering disgusting slime in every direction.
"Ugh..."
The children gagged and buried their faces in the adults' waists. Even the battle-hardened dwarves had to struggle to keep from retching at the overwhelming, primal disgust.
The group pulled the white sanitary masks the Outer God had dropped up over their chins, sealing their noses and mouths. While inwardly marveling at the dense fiber structure of the masks that perfectly blocked the foul stench of rot, they gripped their weapons tighter and began to walk cautiously along the edge of the filth-field.
But no matter how close to the edge they walked, they couldn't completely avoid the territory of those giant maggots.
Squelch! Squelch!
It was when the group was passing through the middle of the pasture. One of the largest maggots, which had been rolling in the filth and gnawing on rotten meat, noticed the dwarves' presence and reared its head.
The creature had no eyes, but a bizarre, circular maw filled with hundreds of sharp teeth arranged like a whirlpool gaped wide. It began to crawl toward the group, writhing at a chillingly slow pace while dripping slime. Though its speed was sluggish, its massive bulk and horrific maw created an immense sense of pressure just by approaching.
"Damn it! If I hit it with an axe, the filth will splash everywhere!" Torvi stepped back, raising his axe. "Stay still! I’ll handle this!"
Bjorn shouted from behind his mask and stepped forward. He pulled a long, iron spray can and a small, rectangular metal lighter from his belt. These were the items the Outer God had dropped like signposts just before they entered the pasture.
Bjorn aimed the nozzle of the spray toward the giant maggot’s gaping maw and flicked the flint wheel of the lighter with his thumb as hard as he could.
Click! With a crisp friction sound, a small flame bloomed at the tip of the lighter. Bjorn pressed the button on the spray hard, right over the flame.
Whoosh—! Fwoosh!
The moment the flammable gas spewed from the spray hit the lighter’s flame, a crimson jet of fire erupted explosively.
A pillar of fire, carrying hundreds of degrees of heat, swept directly across the giant maggot’s disgusting maw and torso.
"Keeeeee—!"
The maggot shrieked, curling its body like a worm hitting boiling water. As its epidermis burned away in the flames, a pungent smell of burning protein filled the air. Unable to withstand the heat, it hurriedly wriggled away in the direction it had come from. The other maggots, startled by the flames, scattered and hid deep within the mud.
"Phew."
Bjorn took his finger off the spray button and snapped the lighter shut. He looked back and forth between the two pieces of modern technology in his hands, sighing in wonder.
"Truly incredible metalwork and alchemy. To trap such fierce gas inside such a small, light metal canister. And compared to the old way of laboriously striking flint to start a fire, this little clicking device is incredibly convenient."
At Bjorn’s exclamation, the tense expressions of the young dwarf warriors brightened considerably.
"That was some killer work, Elder! Seeing those monsters run away like their balls were on fire makes me feel like ten years of indigestion just cleared up!" Torvi chuckled and cracked a joke. "The Outer God attached to us... might not be as unimaginably cruel as we thought. They even gave us such excellent self-defense weapons." Another warrior chimed in with a much more positive tone.
Bjorn smiled, carefully tucking the lighter and spray into his pocket.
The scene from just before they entered the pasture flashed through his mind. Before the spray and lighter had even hit the ground after falling from the sky, an invisible, transparent hand had clumsily manipulated them—as if demonstrating how to use them—lighting the lighter and spraying the gas to show a demonstration of a flamethrower exactly once before dropping them into the dirt.
"Yeah... at least they don't think of us as mere toys. If anything, they want us to survive and carve out a path."
The small, bizarre kindness of an Outer God—a being once considered a symbol of terror—kindly demonstrating how to use weapons. Bjorn still couldn't fathom the true intentions of this strange patron, but for this moment, he simply hurried his steps, fully grateful for the power of this makeshift flamethrower.
Having safely escaped the maggot-infested, polluted pasture, the group did not stop; they kept walking and walking.
The journey was by no means smooth. The land of Eden had already been thoroughly destroyed, endlessly spewing forth all sorts of bizarre and cruel sights.
The ruins of buildings melted so badly that their original forms were unrecognizable. The streams, polluted by the venom of the Outer Gods, had turned into pools of red blood. And the corpses of humans and beasts, left lying haphazardly by the roadside with their insides eaten out and swarming with maggots.
In the middle of a living hell where even the word "despair" felt like a luxury, the children, clutching the waists of the adults, couldn't even burst into tears; they just walked quietly.
But even amidst such harrowing scenery, the group did not let go of the thread of hope.
Thud. Thud.
It was thanks to the small items that unfailingly fell from the sky whenever they felt exhausted. From sweet snacks to small cans of meat that weren't as salty as they expected.
Those strange items soothed their hunger and thirst while simultaneously giving them the conviction that they were still being led by someone and were on the right path. Following the signposts that dropped slowly but surely, the sun had passed its zenith and was tilting toward the west.
And finally, they began to reach the destination of their journey.
"Everyone, stop and wait for a moment. I’ll go ahead and scout the area."
Bjorn hid the group behind a large rock, lowered his body, and crawled cautiously up the hill alone. The scenery beyond the hill entered his view.
Bjorn’s rugged eyebrows twitched.
A massive river was flowing, and a castle rising in the middle of that river caught his eye. A single, old, and abandoned-looking castle, crumbling away in the middle of the river, stood alone.
"Hmm... does the Outer God mean for us to make that place our refuge?"
Bjorn stroked his beard and carefully scanned the exterior walls of the old castle. If they could borrow a bit of dwarven architectural skill to repair it, it could become a fortress sufficient to serve as a defensive base.
But Bjorn’s positive assessment didn't last long. The moment his sharp gaze turned toward the river surrounding the castle, deep wrinkles furrowed his brow.
"Damn it... the terms of residency are dirt-poor brutal."
Bjorn clicked his tongue softly. He saw bizarre figures lurking in the river and under the castle walls. It was a horde of hundreds of Kappa, with bald heads topped with plates and backs covered in green scales.
They were surrounding the castle in layers, perfectly cutting off contact with the outside world. They were smaller than the shadow spider monsters they had faced in the canyon, but their numbers were overwhelming. Moreover, since Kappas were creatures that could freely move between water and land, they were, as Bjorn had predicted, a particularly tricky species for dwarves to deal with.
"Breaking through that sheer volume of force head-on to reach the castle gate is insane. Besides, it’s practically impossible to take the children across the river."
Bjorn lay flat in the bushes on the hill, sharply memorizing the movement and patrol patterns of the Kappas. He had no way of knowing if there were really survivors inside the castle, or what the Outer God leading them was thinking by guiding them to this slaughterhouse.
"For now, a frontal breakthrough is impossible. I have no choice but to wait and watch the situation."
Bjorn carefully pulled his body back and slid down the hill. He hurried his steps toward the group, who were waiting for him anxiously, keeping his footsteps silent.