The gathering spot in Greenpath is a very unique place.
Because this place is very much like the Crossroads.
The light is dim, cargo carts are everywhere, and the ground is piled with egg-shaped cargo barrels. The wall decorations are carved iron plates and Hallownest patterns. Plants are sparsely curled in the floor cracks, growing unevenly.
Many Maintenance Grubs were already busy setting up tents here, indicating that the gathering had just begun.
Simon stood on a high platform, surveyed the scene, and found the most distinguished tent. The clan elders should be inside, and discussing with them should yield results.
As a young grub, wearing a strange mask and carrying a Nail, his appearance was very eye-catching, and such a "rebellious" posture made him easily recognizable.
"Isn't that the child Nati raised?"
"Yes, that's him. We watched him grow up. Now, he might already be an excellent warrior."
"He looks very capable. That's good."
As Simon walked, other Maintenance Grubs whispered, mostly in praise. They were reserved, gentle, and there wasn't a single hurtful word or malicious speculation. Although they were strangers and varied in age, the atmosphere was genuinely good, and Simon listened, feeling very happy.
However, the Maintenance Grubs' chatter wasn't all about happy things; there was some bad news. In just a few steps, he heard many messages like a certain grub hadn't come, or a certain grub had recently fallen ill.
Simon quickened his pace and arrived at the elders' tent, where he was stopped by the guard grubs.
"I recognize you, little one. Have you become a warrior now?" One of the guards came forward to greet Simon.
"Yes, elder. I've come this time to discuss the future of the clan with the elders. Please let me in."
All the guards were stunned.
The grubs were very simple. Since Simon said so, he must have his reasons. One guard hurried into the tent to report the news, while the other guards, though curious about Simon's intentions, held back from asking.
Simon took advantage of the lull to continue observing his surroundings.
This place seemed to be an area with a triple function: a viewing platform, a construction site, and a cargo distribution center. One could imagine that the grub ancestors who built Greenpath once forged various tools and building materials here, then transported them out to adorn this lush, verdant underground cavern.
"The elders invite you in." The guard who had gone to report earlier poked his head out of the tent, then pulled back the curtain to let Simon enter.
Stepping slowly inside, the tent was brightly lit. Maintenance Grubs never lacked lightfly lanterns. Simon didn't recognize any of the five elders in the tent. They looked slightly younger than the three elders Simon had previously met, but they were already very old, their bodies hunched, looking thin and withered like wooden statues eroded by wind and sand—very small, very pitiful.
"A warrior has been born into the clan. Very good." One of the still-conscious elders spoke first; he was in good spirits.
Another one sitting beside him also asked, "Do you have any commendable victories?"
Simon's calm and steady voice came from beneath his mask, "In Kingdom's Edge, at the Colosseum of Fools, they honored me as king, simply because I am the strongest."
"Good." Four of them praised in unison, while one began to snore.
"You came to us. What do you wish to say?"
Simon concisely explained his plan. The elders perked up, listening intermittently, barely grasping the main points.
They whispered among themselves, discussing the matter.
A guard came over and motioned for Simon to leave for now, saying he would be called back once the elders had reached a consensus.
"This is a serious matter, not to be taken lightly. I will wait." Simon sat down cross-legged, not intending to leave.
The guard tried to persuade him a few times, then said no more and returned to stand silently by the tent.
Time passed bit by bit. The elders' voices reminded one of the rustling sound of silkworms munching on mulberry leaves in spring—a constant, rambling sound, like cotton fluffing, a buzzing that was quite hypnotic. Simon suspected that when some of them suddenly stopped talking, it was because they had accidentally fallen asleep.
At some point, Simon gently tapped his fingers on his knee, and then heard an elder loudly declare, "This matter must be decided immediately! Thus, the young will evacuate, and the old will stay. Those of us like this, when it's time to die, we shall all die!"
This elder's words were seconded, and everyone's opinions were unified, with a plan similar to that of the Merchant Bugs.
Next, all Maintenance Grubs were to set off for the Merchant Bugs' village. Those who wished to evacuate further would go to Dirtmouth, and those going to Deepnest would wait there.
Simon didn't need to worry about these tasks; once the elders gave the order, everyone would organize themselves spontaneously.
Simon rushed to the Colosseum of Fools.
...
This time, Simon went to the Stag Beetle station, encountering several Moss Knights along the way. They were the protectors of Greenpath, trained warriors who could fight with shields and Nails. Usually, they were inconspicuous, hidden in bushes, but when they stood up, they were much taller than Simon. Their furry bodies were like shuttles, looking soft, but when they attacked, they were quite fierce. Their sword strikes had very small openings, and aside from the sluggishness caused by a lack of intelligence, they could be said to be very competent guards.
Upon arriving at the station, it was, as expected, operational. The bell for summoning the Stag Beetle stood on the platform.
As the last Stag Beetle of Hallownest, he had been exceptionally busy recently. He told Simon that he hadn't rested in a long time, and the Little Knight was also constantly on the move.
"Where are you going this time?"
"Is the Resting Grounds station open?"
"It's open. That little white fellow opened it. Come aboard, we're leaving."
Sitting on the comfortable cushion, Simon asked, "Do you remember those old stations now?"
"Mostly. While traveling through the tunnels, memories from my childhood flash back from time to time. Perhaps it's time for me to seek out my homeland. Next time, I'll take you and that little fellow with me."
"You mean, the Stag Beetle's nest?"
"Yes. Since my kin gradually left this world, I haven't been there in a long time, causing my memories to be very blurry. But it's good that I can remember it now."
After saying this, the Stag Beetle's conversational mood suddenly disappeared. For the rest of the journey, there was no more dialogue.
-----------------------------
I'm still fairly new to translating, but I genuinely love doing it. I've set up a Patreon as a small corner to share my work with everyone. There you'll find early access to chapters and some special content just for you.
I hope this Patreon can grow and become a place where I can connect with you all in the future. If you'd like to take a look or support me, you can visit:
[patreon.com/Greyhounds]