SSS-Class Revival Hunter-Chapter 181: My Children Are Different Now (2)

“I like Constellation Murderer x Sword Emperor too.”

“Stop being delusional. The canon pairing is Sword Emperor x the Heavenly Demon.”

This is a huge problem! The Terras are now fighting over which myths should be considered true. If things continue like this, the Terras may lose sight of their original mythology. If this happens, the Terras will not be able to perform Aura Formula Arts!

Noble White Lion, the plays performed in theaters are based on the myths of the Terras. The stories of the most-liked plays will become official history.

You decide what the true myths are! Unify the myths and establish Aura Formula Arts!

※If you fail to guide your species, they will lose the trait Demonic Cult.

I read the quest window several times.

“Uh... In short, my stories have become so twisted in this world that the Terras are now confused about what’s real and fake. Did I understand it correctly? If I leave them like this, the Aura Formula Arts that I’m planning to create is just a wild goose chase. ”

—That sounds about right.

I stroked my chin, wondering what there was to be done about this. Several thoughts crossed my mind, but my first idea was...

“Do I really have to fix this? I would also get sick of the same stories if I heard them every day. The Blins are trying out some things because they crave something new. I have no reason to rain on their parade.”

—Huh? What about the Aura Formula Arts that you want to create? You had a lot of hope for that one.

“Well, I was actually just greedy, and Uburka agreed to it because he thought it would be fun. That is why I started working on it. If the children of this generation don’t want that, that’s their decision. I don’t plan on controlling the way they want to have fun.”

The Guardian clapped.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

—Whoa. You finally look like a mature parent.

“I’ve always been one.”

—You’ve acquired the ability to spew colorful bullshit now. If there were a contest for the most immature parents in the world, you would win by a landslide, Zombie.

I pointed to the theater across the street. “Oh, that play looks interesting.”

There were a lot of theaters in this city. While the amphitheaters at the three-way intersection were large conglomerates, the one I pointed to was small, targeting the local alley commercial district. It seemed the theater had honed their advertising skills to abridge the gap. Their poster was pretty.

“The epic of Kekerukker! Watch the Cavefire play Wild Fire Sword Dance!” the elf ticket agent shouted. “Demon King Estelle, Heavenly Demon Chronicle, and Raviel and Kekeruker. All stories start and end in this play! It’s the story of two men who are always together on their mythical journey!”

In the poster, one slender hobgoblin with black markings and another rugged hobgoblin stared straight ahead with their backs against each other.

“That’s gotta be us. Don’t you think so?”

—You’re right. I guess that story has to do with us.

The Guardian was also intrigued. We entered the small theater with high expectations. Several logs with neatly scraped surfaces were serving as chairs, with Terra spectators sitting on them. The theater was full, including the standing section, and was much nicer than I initially thought, so my expectations became even higher.

“Oh. It’s small but neat, like a VIP lounge.”

—Did you tell Uburka about me?

I wasn’t sure. Aside from the Verbal Match in the Heavenly Demon Chronicle, I had not mentioned the Guardian.

“Well, I guess this is a derivative work. Ah, it’s starting. We should be qui... Oh, yeah. We don’t need to.”

—Even if we chat, no one can hear us. It’s pretty convenient.

“Do they sell popcorn? Wait, watermelon beer? Fried watermelon rind? What are these? Why do they like watermelon so much?”

We watched Wild Fire Sword Dance. The high expectations of the Guardian and I quickly rotted away as the play went on.

“What the hell?”

—The fuck?

The two of us ran out even though the play was still ongoing.

—Are they nuts?

“The fuck?”

—The one on the poster is the Fire Emperor? Not me?

“The fuck?”

—Why does the Fire Emperor show up out of nowhere and take the credit for the Verbal Match against the Heavenly Demon?

“The fuck???”

I couldn’t stop myself. Three fucks was a strikeout.

“Now that I think about it, someone needs to decide what the real myths are. My children having fun is important, but attributing this feat to the Fire Emperor is wrong. Horribly wrong. Fuck! My kids crossed the line.”

—You’re right! You gotta fix this!

The Guardian and I swore that we would absolutely clear the quest.

“Let’s first look around to find some clues on how to solve this.”

I wandered around the city until night fell. As a result, I discovered that this era had serious problems. Surprisingly, they were related to the newly acquired traits of the Terras.

Demonic Cult.

Category: Religion, Military power, Politics.

Origin: Scummy Friend Doctrine

Description: Finally, the White Lion Faith has been established as a religion following the Goru Doctrine and the Scummy Friend Doctrine! The first prophet, Gorke, recognized the White Lion as the close friend and father of Terras. The White Lion’s myths were made known to Terras by the second prophet Uburka.

However, the Demonic Cult is undergoing an identity crisis! There are many different religious sects fighting over how to interpret the White Lion’s myths. The sects accuse each other of heresy and claim that they are the White Lion’s true heirs!

The Terras who believe in different myths have different imageries in mind. Depending on the type of imagery used, the appearance and effectiveness of aura varies greatly!

Solve the problem of different doctrine interpretations!

※This trait may change depending on how history unfolds.

※Warning! Sixteen religious sects are in conflict over different doctrine interpretations. If the conflict intensifies, religious schism may occur, and even lead to species division!

“Gosh.”

I had a rough idea of what had gone down in the past three hundred years.

“The problem probably started when Uburka died. While he was alive, he probably suppressed any problem with his strength...”

—I see. The guys who couldn’t even squeal back then are starting to speak out.

“Yeah, that’s what I also think.”

Uburka was strong. Too strong. After the strongest goblin passed away, differences of opinion arose among the Terras, and no one could solve them.

It was a very natural conflict. Just as everyone went through puberty, so did the Terras.

“Welcome, welcome everyone! ‘If I can’t have it, I’d rather destroy it all!’ See Estelle’s unique charms!”

“This is a traditional Cavefire play! Shut up, pseudo-theaters!”

“Who are you calling a pseudo-theater, you heretics?”

“Was the Fire Emperor actually a good man? This is the story of a man who fell victim to Kekerukker’s evil—”

For some reason, their growth pains were mutating.

Terra art and religion weren’t separate. The actor who performed Cavefire was a high priest, and the theater stage was the temple. Which plays a Terra went to see depended on which sect they belonged to.

Depending on the image they conjure in their minds, their aura manifestation changes drastically.

Art. Religion. Military power—all of these were united as one. There was a bigger issue than potentially worshiping the Fire Emperor.

I found myself in a remote slum, where poor Terras dug pits and made them their homes.

“Agh! You can’t do this!” someone with a high-pitched voice screamed. “I was first place in the evaluation! My acting skills are much better than those of the other candidates!”

When I turned my head and looked, I saw two people arguing in front of a small, shabby theater. A large hobgoblin with crossed arms stood in front of a small, squealing elf.

“But why is a Terra taking on the role instead of me? Did he bribe you? Or does he have a connection to the troupe? People should go on stage purely based on their skills! You can’t do this!”

“My troupe doesn’t take bribes or hire people based on their personal connection, uger. Although we’re poor, our troupe has one hundred and thirty years of tradition. Don’t undermine us.”

“Then why wasn’t I chosen for a leading role, let alone a supporting role? Is it because I'm Sylvan? Ridiculous! This is species discrimination! I will file a formal complaint to the Fire Water Council!”

With a serious look, the troupe master said, “That’s not why you weren’t picked. We follow Kekerukker’s advice and pursue equality. But you... you’re too weak.”

“W-What?”

“Look at you.” The troupe master carefully scanned the Sylvan. “Your back is hunched. Your shoulders are narrow. Your muscles are flimsy. Your arms and legs are like those of a spider. They look like they’ll snap if I tap you. And your thighs... are they really thighs? I don’t know how they’re holding you up.”

The troupe master shook his head. “So what if your acting skills are good? Muscle mass matters a lot to audiences these days. A poor physique like yours won’t charm even a snotty child. You’re unqualified to be an actress.”

“A-All an actress has to do is act well!” the Sylvan protested, but it seemed she had also been conscious of this matter because she covered herself with her hands.

The troupe master continued to shake his head, revealing his ragged muscles. “No, an actor is a priest who spreads Kekerukker’s teachings to the people, a warrior who stands in the frontline when a war breaks out, and a fighter who rushes to a duel when the council is convened.”

Did they still decide on agendas by holding duels during council meetings? These adorable wackadoodles...

“That’s why the audience readily claps for actors. They’re acknowledging that there is sincerity in the plays they put up. Who would be captivated by an actor who only acts like a warrior on stage?”

“Ugh, uh...”

“Your muscles are almost nonexistent. I’ll listen to you only if your pectorals become four times bigger than they are right now.”

“According to the myths, Kekerukker also had functional muscles! That is what my muscles are like! They’re sturdier than they look!”

The troupe master chuckled. “Ugor. Then become Kekerukker instead of an actress. Transform into a lion and help my species. At least in my troupe, we don’t believe in functional muscles.”

The Sylvan fell to her knees and clung to the troupe master’s feet. “W-Wait a minute, Troupe Master. Just give me a chance! Please let me take the test one more time! I’m confident that I can act much better than last time. After seeing my acting, you won’t even notice the other muscle pigs. I’m a genius at acting! Let me play the main character, at least one of the Four Demon Kings from the Heavenly Demon Chronicle! Then there will be a revolution in the world of Goru Play!”

The troupe master dismissed the Sylvan. “Actors do not kneel. Go work out and grow your muscles. That’s all I have to say.”

“Ah, for god’s sake! Sylvans are born different! Our muscles don’t really become bigger, you ignorant muscle pigs! Did your muscles stretch out the wrinkles in your brain?!”

“I have nothing more to say to you.”

The troupe master easily shook off the Sylvan, who screamed and rolled on the ground.

“I’m going to die from despair! A fungus is discriminating against me just because I’m an elf! Why was I born Sylvan? If I had been born as a Terra, I would have debuted on stage a long time ago. Why was I born with big ears? Just to be treated poorly like this? Shame on you, Kekerukker! Surely you’re watching me right now!”

“How pathetic... Go make some money.”

“I like acting more than money!”

The troupe master clicked his tongue and closed the theater door.

The aspiring Sylvan actress continued crying. “Great Cat! Kekerukker! Please give me the talent to be an actress! Please let me go on stage at least once! I’ll sell my soul for it! If a devil hears this, please take my soul! If I can debut on stage, you may have my soul! I’m begging!”

I stroked my chin. “I have an idea.”

—Huh? What is it?

“Let’s make a top star actress.”

I was going to show a real play to the Terras who believed in false myths.