Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 440

Chapter 440
As the brittle gray coating fell away, it uncovered a deep crimson surface where shades of red and black spiraled together in perfect balance.
Rainwater streaming through the opening in the roof hit the parched branches, gathered into heavy droplets, and landed on the shell—with every impact, the shell gave off a soft, radiant glow.
The room had been plunged into absolute darkness on this stormy night. Yet now, with each drop that struck the shell, the space was illuminated.

The more the radiant shell was drenched by the rain, the more distinct it grew, and as it completely absorbed the water, a rich shine reappeared across its surface.
Then, the instant their true shapes were completely visible, Cheong-yu Sojeo and I cried out together in unison:
“Wow!”
—Shia! 『Wow!』
Indeed—“Wow.”
It might sound strange to encounter a Western word like “Wow” in the martial world, but here, it was far more than an outburst.
Cheong-yu Sojeo and I shouted the same thing simultaneously because that was their actual name: Wow.
“Wow” translates to snail.
A spirit snail. A poisonous snail. I had never in my wildest dreams envisioned something like this!
After the gray layer shed away, what was left behind was a spiraling snail shell.
This shell was far rounder than that of a common snail—no surprise that everyone had incorrectly identified them as fruits growing from the tree.
“If this isn’t the fruit from the Flora-Fauna-Grass-Tree category, then what on earth could it be!”
There was a minor possibility they were hermit crabs—ocean-dwelling crustaceans that also inhabit shells—but unless a crab claw suddenly appeared, these were unmistakably snails.
Crabs are only found near the sea, and this location was far from any ocean, making the chance virtually nonexistent.
That tough gray exterior had to be a form of protective layer—an accumulation of dried snail mucus that had hardened over time. This meant every one of my earlier theories—galls, egg cases, chrysalises—was incorrect.
“It never crossed my mind.”
A snail spirit beast.
In my previous life, the only snails with venom were saltwater varieties.
Nudibranchs, marine snails, and most notably the Conus snails—those creatures were seriously dangerous. A cone snail’s sting has no cure and can be fatal within minutes.
But land snails? They were universally considered the ultimate symbols of slowness, gentleness, and harmlessness.
The idea that they could be venomous was difficult to accept.
And although I was an ardent enthusiast of poisonous animals, I had never handled marine species. The required effort was overwhelming.
Perhaps if I had maintained some saltwater pets in my former life, my outlook would have been wider. But land snails were for beginners, and saltwater setups demanded extensive gear and care—so I always avoided it.
For lizards, a reasonable enclosure could be bought for thirty thousand won.
However, a marine aquarium? A simple 40-cube tank alone would run over a million won.
A protein skimmer was essential for filtering waste from saltwater, along with a sump tank for high-volume filtration, lighting that replicates solar rays, algae scrubbers to eliminate nitrates, pumps designed for saltwater use… the list of parts was endless.
“The Wow have been in hibernation for all this time!”
—Shiiiii. 『Hibernation?』
Cheong-yu Sojeo tilted her head in response to my outburst, curious about the term. I provided an explanation.
“Yes, Cheong-yu Sojeo. Snails enter hibernation in dry periods or cold winters. They withdraw into their shells and close the opening with a solid layer—that is hibernation.”
—Shia! 『Ah! I’ve encountered snails attached to rocks, completely dried out like that!』
“Precisely. That is hibernation.”
—Shii. 『But is it possible for them to hibernate for centuries?』
Hibernation is a vital survival strategy for when conditions are unfavorable.
During winter freezes or summer droughts, snails enter hibernation or estivation to save energy and retain moisture, shielding themselves from predators and extreme climates.
Even ordinary snails can live up to three years in such a state, so if these were spirit beings?
No—these two had to be alive.
And judging by the light they were now emitting, I was certain of it.
“They are alive. Without a doubt, they must be. Look at them shining like that—surely you believe they’re alive?”
—Sh–Shia. 『Y-Yes.』
Cheong-yu Sojeo appeared somewhat taken aback by my fervent reply.
At that moment, the door opened and monks from Podarlap Palace came in—those who had been on watch outside.
Upon seeing the hole in the ceiling, the falling rain, and the luminous snails, they exclaimed in astonishment:
“What, what is this—!?”
“L-Light!?”
“I will go and fetch Dorje Lama at once!”
To be frank, they should have rushed in the second we broke through the ceiling. They must have nodded off on duty or something—their response was terribly slow.
One of them scurried outside in a fluster.
The other drew near, fell to his knees, and prostrated himself deeply as he called out:
“Heavenly Master! You have done it!”
I never desired the title of Heavenly Master, but the proof was now undeniable. Still, having already acknowledged it, I answered without pause and issued a command.
“There could be peril. Please move outside.”
“Ah, yes, of course!”
If this was indeed one of the Twenty-Four Venoms, then it was unquestionably toxic.
And as stated in the Secret Compendium of Venomous Creatures, this one was documented to release a poisonous mist.
Therefore, it was wiser to retreat.
That was why I instructed the monks to fall back, and I also relocated the children—those already roused and those still sleeping soundly amid the turmoil—to the doorway.
After all, being venomous creatures themselves did not guarantee immunity to every poison.
“Okay, everyone, rouse your sleeping brothers and sisters and move back to the entrance.”
—Tssrr. 『Understood, Dad.』
—Biii!
—Chwararararak.
Bini coiled herself around Ranghyang, who still seemed dazed, and guided her toward the entrance. Yeondu clamped onto Orange’s horn and pulled him along.
—Shaaa! 『Hey, wake up now!』
That Orange fellow remained fast asleep, despite all the noise.
Seol and Bini lifted Dong and brought him to the entrance.
Just then—
Once all the children had reached the entrance, Cho, who had flown out through the roof opening, returned—making the gap larger as she came back in.
She was drenched—she must have gone for a brief flight in the rain.
—Crash!
The hole expanded further as Cho reentered.
“Cho, over here!”
—Tssrr! 『Coming, Dad!』
—Ssssshhh.
Now that Cho was also back next to me, the rain was falling straight onto the snails. It was an uncommonly intense winter rainfall, and I could detect a growing disturbance and sound in the distance—likely people awakening.
—Thud.
One of the fruit-like objects attached to the tree dropped to the ground with a muffled noise.
The adhesive mucus that had fixed it to the tree had presumably dissolved in the rain.
Dried snail mucus solidifies into a hard substance but liquefies when water touches it.
Some portions had fractured from dryness, yet—
—Thud.
A second shell landed on the floor.
The first one to fall had turned over, and water was now flowing into its opening. Shortly after, the water that had filled it began to spill back out.
It appeared the snail was stirring and attempting to emerge.
—Shia. 『Is it awakening?』
“It seems so.”
The noise of activity was drawing nearer—and then, instead of water, eyes extended from the shell.
From the aperture of the snail’s shell, two lengthy eyestalks came out.
They swayed about, surveying the environment. Then they halted—aimed in our direction.
And then, a voice sounded inside my mind.
[Who are you?]
Evidently, it could project its voice straight into our thoughts.
I looked at the others—and indeed, Cheong-yu Sojeo and all the children were gazing at me.
“Do you mean… all of you heard that?”
They all nodded, Cheong-yu Sojeo included.
So it was not only me—we had all heard it at the same time.
Snails lack vocal cords. So was this mental communication? A transfer of thoughts?
Naturally—this caliber of ability was only appropriate for the fruit of the Flora-Fauna-Grass-Tree line.
It was captivating. I moved forward and chose to introduce ourselves.
“Greetings. I am So-ryong. We are the ones who roused you both from your long sleep within this tree.”
I spoke with respect—his voice had the tone of a middle-aged man—and stressed that we had awakened both of them.
The children nodded together beside me.
The snail, as if recognizing our introduction, gave a slight nod with its eyestalks and answered with a thankful voice:
[Ah, our rescuers? I am deeply in your debt.]
“There is no need for gratitude. We only did what was necessary. However…”
The snail was unexpectedly courteous and civil.
I advanced to carry on the discussion—but then the snail interjected.
[One moment, please. I must awaken my wife.]
“Ah, certainly. Please do.”
The snail, now completely out, turned himself over and positioned his companion—whom he called his wife—under the stream of falling water.
He likely wanted her to absorb the water more quickly.
And moments later, much like the first, the second snail started to bubble and churn, expelling water from within.
Then—eyes appeared.
The one who had awakened first had a greater amount of black on its shell.
The one who had just emerged now displayed more red.

[Hmm…]
[Are you awake? Is your body all right?]
[Yes. And you? Goodness, you’ve grown so large! Exactly how many years have gone by?]
[I am well. But it appears a significant amount of time has passed.]
Typically, snails are hermaphrodites.
They do not have set male or female genders—every snail possesses the ability to both lay eggs and generate sperm concurrently.
But based on how they addressed each other, and their manner of speaking, it seemed these were an exception. Perhaps because they were spirit beasts, they had distinct genders.
After understanding they would be joining our family, I had been concerned we might need to call both of them “sister” and “brother” simultaneously—but fortunately, that did not seem to be the case.
‘What a relief, that would have made explaining reproduction to the children incredibly uncomfortable.’
As I quietly felt relieved, the two of them continued talking.
[Those children and the young man—who are they?]
[They are the ones who saved us.]
They sounded like a long-married couple, dignified and calm.
The female spirit snail even turned to us and offered a polite acknowledgment.
[I understand. We are truly grateful.]
“It was our pleasure. We are simply happy we could assist.”
[No, sincerely. We are in your great debt. It seems those vile monks took action to stop us from awakening after we went to sleep. You have our deepest thanks.]
[Indeed. Those despicable monks.]
Listening to them, it was obvious there was history between them and the monks of Podarlap Palace.
I inquired cautiously,
“You… had some manner of dispute with the monks?”
Then the two answered with resentful, furious voices.
[This was our home. But then those monks arrived one day and attempted to force us out. We battled them for many years.]
[However, they must have discovered we hibernate in winter—and while we slept, they must have done something to stop the spring rains from reviving us.]
[Yes. Simply observe the construction above and around us. It seems they sealed us in to prevent the spring rain from getting to us.]
From their account, the monks who had retreated here—probably after being expelled by Muslim armies—had come into conflict with these snails after occupying this region.
Unable to overcome them in direct combat, they bided their time until the snails entered winter hibernation, then erected their buildings around them—denying them crucial natural elements.
This was likely the only habitable location in the vicinity.
That clarified why the area had perpetually seemed so arid.
Just then—
I detected motion—no longer just far off. The presence I had momentarily overlooked was now immediately behind.
A unified shout from a group of monks suddenly erupted behind me:
“The ENTIRE Podarlap Palace offers respects to the Heavenly Master!”
“We offer our respects!”
Now that my status as the Heavenly Master was verified, they were all forming ranks and bowing as one.
At that exact instant—a sudden, piercing noise shot past my ears.
—Sssiiing!
An object whizzed by me and implanted itself in the space between me and the Podarlap Palace monks.
When I turned to look, I saw it clearly—a tiny, clear, harpoon-like venomous projectile.
‘A radula spike!?’
The radula spike is a poisonous, dart-like projectile employed by Conus snails. It is fired from their proboscis to hit prey.
Launch velocity: 1/5000th of a second.
It is covered in conotoxin, a nerve toxin more powerful than tetrodotoxin.
Apparently, these spirit snails possessed a very similar mechanism.
Therefore, the “miasma” that was recorded to be released by these beings in the Secret Compendium of Venomous Creatures and in Podarlap Palace’s archives—was not a vapor at all. It was poisonous projectiles.
Then the snail’s voice came, cold and sharp.
[Benefactor… what is your connection to those repulsive villains?]
—Bang!
I shut the door firmly before additional monks could get in, then swiftly sent a sound transmission to Dorje, who was at the head of the group.
“L-Lord Heavenly Master…?”
[It is hazardous. Remain silent and wait.]
It seemed they suspected I was in league with Podarlap Palace.
Clearly, I would need to resolve this through dialogue.
I needed to make it clear that I was also a casualty in this situation, just as they were.