In the goblin city of Runga, the residents split into two camps. A small minority of fools who saw me as the incarnation of the legendary snake "Ululululu." And the vast majority who dismissed it as nonsense. Roughly an 8-to-2 split, I'd say.
Honestly, even 20% was higher than expected. After all, the illustrations depicted Ululululu as a flying black serpent. The only similarity to me was that we were both snakes.
"Ululululu!"
"Ah, Ululululu."
Whenever the believers spotted me, they'd chant the name and clasp their hands in prayer. It felt like I was some roadside Buddha statue.
I looked into why this misunderstanding had taken root. The shaman granny from my first encounter had called snakes "sacred creatures." Here in Runga, goblins treated snakes with respect. Not surprising, really—snakes as evil is just ignorant prejudice. Some cultures even worshipped them as gods of abundance. Back on Jeju Island in Korea, they used to revere a serpent deity called the Seven Stars.
This place was similar. Shamans prayed to various goblin gods, including the mighty snake god Ululululu, slayer of the evil "headless red serpent."
I asked why they thought I was that god. ("Asked" sounds simple, but it took some doing—feigning interest in their scriptures until one shaman read the whole tome aloud in a single day.)
Eventually, I pieced it together.
1. The sacred snake god Ululululu understands goblin speech. Ordinary beasts can't, but Ululululu is kind and gentle, living among Runga's goblins and driving off their enemies.
Yeah, that's me. Can't deny it—I'm kind, gentle, and I've chomped plenty of enemy goblin hearts.
2. Ululululu spits out the Water of Life, which heals the wounded and grants longevity.
Turned out, when I brewed potions, the Ululululu fans had shouted the name. To goblins unfamiliar with potions, it must've looked like divine saliva. (Never mind that Nanaruk helped me boil it—I didn't spit it out.) Drinking snake spit? Gross. And longevity? Laughable. Pellelian's potions just heal wounds.
-Hmm, when I sold those potion recipes, I left out one detail for the buyers.
"What is it?"
-Long-term use can cause illness.
"...?"
-Ahem, azoospermia.
Fucking terrifying.
Women could drink it fine, then. Hiding that and selling it? Pellelian was a legend.
-They won't even know they have it.
I discovered it accidentally while researching chimera fertility. Intentional fraud by omission.
Researching chimera sperm? Truly no mad scientist label was too harsh.
-Fertile chimeras were my dream.
Ah, that explained it. Breeding chimeras? Basically creating a new species.
Anyway, back on track—I wasn't Ululululu. Being mistaken for a storybook snake wasn't flattering.
-Why not? Great opportunity. Heh heh...
Pellelian's sleazy grin made it worse. According to legend, Ululululu dies. He defeats the headless red serpent but is left exhausted and wounded, ultimately leaping into flames to ascend to the heavens.
Dies, you know?
"What if those goblins toss me into a fire alive?"
Fanatics are scarier than anything. In my past life, I dealt with one. My one close friend—turns out he was overly kind because he pitied my "ancestral grudge" blocking my success. Suggested a 5-million-won exorcism. Told my dad, got the beating of my life. Apologized to the guy; he dragged me to a mountain prayer hall. Barefoot escape, no taxi fare—got chewed out.
"Hate that shit."
-Make those fools your meat shields.
I ignored Pellelian. At least Nanaruk and the sane goblins didn't buy the myth.
"Um, Snake God, sir."
Ignoring the Ululululu chanters, another goblin approached—opting for "Snake God, sir." Fine, whatever.
"My child's sick."
The goblin mom thrust her kid forward. Looked rough—dehydrated, maybe diarrhea.
"Please... hic-sob."
What was I supposed to do? See a doctor or shaman. But her tears softened my cold heart.
-Obvious dehydration. Dirty water, diarrhea, can't eat.
Luckily, I had PelGPT. His remote diagnosis was spot-on.
-Boil some meat broth in clean water. It'll fix her.
Got it, ma'am.
"Sob-hic-sob."
But no way to tell her. No potions to share either.
Screw it. I whipped my ringed tail, dipping into my spatial pouch. Limited space, but emergency rations were stocked. Out came chunks of alligator tail.
"Th-this...!"
Mom and kid were both scrawny. Even friendly goblins went hungry sometimes.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡Beginner Elemental Magic: Water Lv1
Not blasting the poor goblin with a water cannon. A stream trickled from thin air.
Goblins gawked, mouths agape.
"When Ululululu roared, rain fell from clear skies..."
"Ululululu!"
Damn, another shaman in the crowd. Saaak!
I didn't roar—this wasn't rain. Mom alternated glances between me and the water, filling her leather flask.
"Holy water... thank you."
Just water. Better than mud puddle sludge, though—clean.
"Ululululu spits the Water of Life to heal the sick..."
"Ululululu! Ululululu!"
That crazy shaman—worth the XP to eat?
I fled the gathering mob. But once the idea stuck, it snowballed. More Ululululu incidents followed.
Snakes have Jacobson's organ—a second olfactory sense in the mouth, tasting chemicals on the tongue. That's why we flick it. I had it too, as a monster. And it gave me a perk: sensing rain beforehand.
Lounging in the sun, warming up—goblins hanging laundry in the nice weather. Then, rain scent hit. Cold-blooded me hates getting wet, so I dashed under a roof.
Rumble—
Thunder crashed immediately.
"Ululululu summons lightning and storms..."
"Ululululu!"
Ridiculous. A storm-caller snake hiding from rain? Pellelian cackled—he loved the worship. (Even if it was for me, not him.)
Another time: Hunting for levels before the dungeon. Nabbed a big owl-bear. Too heavy alone, so called goblins to haul it. One saw it and wailed.
"Aaaah, aaak!"
Startled me. Turns out, it ate his dad.
"That's the one! It is!"
"Ululululu!"
"Thank you! So grateful!"
Really that owl-bear? I can't even tell goblin faces apart—how'd he know?
Exhausted, I asked Pellelian seriously.
-Goblins are like that. Racist? Nah, truth.
I listened.
-They instinctively seek leaders to believe in and obey. Born followers—diligent subservients.
"Harsh words."
-Not insulting. The world has two sides. Goblins are faithful, better than humans. Just need someone to follow. Poor things.
Fine. But I had no plans to rule as their snake god.
Time to leave was nearing.
-Smart. Enslave them as ideal, but if not, head to my dungeon ASAP.
My level topped 5. Had potions, no Thunder Command yet—but time to go. What if goblins looted my home?
I returned "home"—Nanaruk's place. Slithered up a pillar, through the window.
Her siblings greeted me.
"Whitey!"
"Back, huh."
Whitey beat Ululululu? They didn't pester me with "Snake God, sir."
Your big sis back yet?
"She's getting chewed out by Dad. Be here soon."
Spooky—read my mind?
Nanaruk's dad was the tribal chief. Guess she was princess material. Hard to picture with her sword skills.
But bad blood with the chief, apparently.
Dusk fell. Nanaruk returned.
"Letchi, Liandal, Kadiram—I'm home."
Three little brothers: Letchi and Liandal kids; Kadiram a hobgoblin warrior.
She greeted me too. Huh. Her face was puffy—cried?
Oblivious brothers missed it. Nanaruk acted normal. Whole family gathered—dinner time. Mystery monster-meat soup. Stuffed, then bed: straw mattress, blankets piled, all huddled.
Brothers conked out fast. Moonlight poured through the window.
Last night here. Pellelian retreated to the ring—he spent more time there than awake.
I savored the quiet. Tempted, honestly. Stay? Goblins nice, comfy. But no—fairy hunters could track me. Endanger them too.
Needed strength. Glanced at Nanaruk—sound asleep.
Thanks, you. Take care.
Leave at dawn. Closed my eyes.
Hoped for sweet dreams. No dice.
Dreamt of that psycho elf woman slicing me like grilled eel.
Just a dream! Phew...
Woke intact. Heart pounding. Survival instinct kicked in—danger alert.
A hobgoblin stood in the room. Face masked, knife poised over Nanaruk.
Assassin.
Reacted on reflex.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡Stealth Lv6
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡Acceleration Lv5
Silent and swift, I clamped his ankle.
"Gasp!"
The assassin goblin stared down, shocked.
Hey. Got poison resistance?
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