Chapter 11: The Snail King Cometh

"I'm telling you, it's a good idea," Kenta insisted, gesturing wildly with a half-eaten bread roll.

"Summoning a 'colossal elder snail of immense and inexplicable power' in the middle of town is not a good idea," I retorted, taking a sip of my own watery ale. "It's the opposite of a good idea. It's a 'get us permanently banished from Beginner's ville' idea."

Our victory over the snails and the bear had earned us enough money for a few nights at an inn and some proper food. With full stomachs, Kenta's mind had immediately gone to his new, ridiculously specific skill. He was itching to try out the "Summon Snail King" part of it.

"But think of the potential!" he argued. "What if he's a super-powerful battle companion? What if he breathes fire? Or shoots lasers from his eye-stalks?"

"He's a snail, Kenta. He's going to produce slime and move at a geological pace. Now, if we need something slowly lubricated over the course of a week, he's our guy."

Despite my sarcasm, a part of me was curious. The skill description did say "immense and inexplicable power." We compromised. The next morning, we hiked out to the same meadow where the meteor had conveniently crash-landed, a place now known to locals as "The Crater of Unbearable Luck." It seemed fitting.

"Okay, give us some space," Kenta said, looking serious. He took a deep breath, like a stage magician preparing for his grand finale. He raised his hands to the sky. "O, great and powerful monarch of the mollusks! Heed my call! I, your master, summon you! ARISE, SNAIL KING!"

For a moment, nothing happened. A bird chirped. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves. I was about to make a sarcastic comment when the ground began to tremble. It wasn't a violent shake, but a deep, resonant rumble that vibrated through the soles of my shoes.

A massive magic circle, glowing with a soft, earthy brown light, spread across the meadow. It was intricate and complex, filled with swirling runes that looked vaguely like snail shells. The air grew heavy with the smell of damp soil and ancient stone.

Then, from the center of the circle, he rose.

He was… colossal. His shell wasn't just a shell; it was a fortress of rock and fossil, covered in moss that seemed to be centuries old. Tiny, glowing mushrooms grew in its crevices. His body was the color of rich earth, and his two eye-stalks were as thick as tree trunks, topped with large, milky-white orbs that regarded us with an unnerving, ancient intelligence. He didn't just block out the sun; he felt like a natural part of the landscape that had just decided to stand up.

A voice echoed, not in our ears, but directly in our minds. It was a deep, slow, booming voice that sounded like tectonic plates grinding together.

<I... AM... HERE.>

Kenta stared, his jaw hanging open. "Whoa," was all he could manage.

The Snail King began to move towards us. The ground shook with each... infinitesimal... inch... he... slid... forward. It was like watching a mountain try to win a marathon.

<MY... MASTER... HAS... SUMMONED... ME. I... APOLOGIZE... FOR... THE... DELAY. TRAFFIC... WAS... UNEXPECTEDLY... HEAVY.>

"Traffic?" I whispered to Kenta. "What traffic? He just appeared!"

"Maybe he means, like, metaphysical traffic?" Kenta whispered back, completely in awe.

This was our secret weapon. A being of immense power that moved slower than a continental drift. We spent the next hour testing his abilities. He couldn't breathe fire, but his slime was incredibly durable; when it hardened, it was stronger than steel. His shell was completely indestructible. He was the ultimate defensive wall, assuming you had three to five business days to get him into position.

Defeated but also strangely impressed, we sent him back to his snail dimension and headed back to the guild. A new quest was posted on the board, offering a huge reward.

Task: Deliver medical supplies to the besieged mining town of Rockfall. Warning: The only route is through Grayfang Canyon, which has been taken over by the notorious 'Graveljaw' Bandit clan.

"Bandits? A canyon?" Kenta said, a grin spreading across his face. "That sounds like a job for a very, very large, slow-moving battering ram."

I sighed. He was right. It was a terrible plan. And it was probably going to work.