Genshin Impact, I'm Slime

The air seemed to freeze in front of the Yiyan Hall.

Paimon turned his head sharply, his wide eyes filled with shock, as if he couldn't believe that the traveler had actually asked such a pointed question.

The traveler regretted her words the moment they left her lips, but words are like spilled water, impossible to take back. She could only bite her lip tightly, lower her gaze, and wait for Heuria's response in a suffocating silence.

However, the expected anger and harshness did not come; Heureia simply gazed at the traveler in silence.

In those eyes, which were filled with the salt crystals of time, there was initially a gentle, watery tenderness, which then slowly rose to the surface a layer of unfathomable, heavy regret.

She remained silent for a long time, and finally shook her head very slowly and heavily.

Heureia did not directly answer the question of whether she hated or not. Instead, she cast her gaze into the distance, as if she had pierced through the barrier of time and space and returned to that land covered with rough salt crystals.

"The place where I was born was originally just a small, barren land soaked in bitter salt water, where not a single blade of grass could grow."

The Salt Mother spoke, her voice carrying an ancient quality that seemed to soothe the dust of a thousand years.

“It is impossible to grow crops there, and life is almost cut off. Few mortals set foot there, and no demons or gods covet this barren place.”

"It lies deep in the center of a depression in Dihua Island, existing in solitude, hence its name 'Salt of the Earth.'"

Heureia's narration slightly surprised both the traveler and Paimon, who couldn't understand why she suddenly brought up such distant history.

"At that time, the war between demons and gods was raging."

Heureia's voice was calm, yet it seemed to carry an immense weight.

"Even though many demons and gods have a responsibility to love their people, their destructive power and capricious nature always inadvertently destroy the homes of mortals."

"The elderly with white hair have no one to care for them; the young children have no relatives to lean on."

"Even more desperate parents, unable to care for their newborns, can only abandon them on this barren land known as the salt of the earth, leaving them to fend for themselves."

Heureia paused almost inaudibly, her tone still calm, yet containing a chilling firmness.

"I picked up those babies who had been abandoned on the saline-alkali land."

“Since my blood relatives have abandoned them… then I shall be their mother and raise them to adulthood.”

The determination contained in those simple words weighed heavily on the hearts of the traveler and Paimon, like a heavy stone tablet.

In that era of demonic wars where human life was treated like dirt and life was uncertain, what kind of compassion and courage did it take to make such a decision?

"Perhaps my actions have quietly spread among the humans struggling to survive around me."

"The number of babies abandoned in the salt of the earth gradually increased, and those children who grew up in my arms eventually had children of their own, generation after generation, and gathered together to form a small settlement in that salty white land."

"The once desolate salt of the earth has finally come to life and people have gathered here. The mortals who gathered here revere me as the 'Salt Mother'."

When Heureia mentioned this title, a faint, almost imperceptible warmth appeared in her voice.

"However, I am ultimately a demon god, and the survival rules and order that I am accustomed to may not be applicable to fragile humans. Therefore, the people of the salt land have elected their own [King of Man].

"All the kings throughout history have been the most outstanding children among the people of Salt Land."

Heureia's tone carried a hint of reminiscence. "They each had their own unique charm, yet they all shared a common mission: to lead the children raised in the salt flats to cultivate the barren land, sow suitable crops, and build fortresses to defend against the swarms of raiders..."

"They passed it down from generation to generation, one after another, until..."

Heureia's voice finally showed a slight fluctuation, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake.

“Until… Ning Zhe.”

"He became the last king of the salt flats."

"At that time, the flames of the war between the demons and gods had burned to their most intense and frenzied peak. In order to seize the seven remaining thrones, the demons had long forgotten their original intentions of loving their loved ones, and their eyes were filled only with the bloodlust of killing and conquest."

"The territory of the salt of the earth has been shrinking amidst the endless wars and invasions, and my people and I have been forced to retreat step by step into the cold and dark underground."

"The salt trade route that once provided essential supplies for survival was almost cut off, and resources were extremely scarce... It was in such dire circumstances that Ning Zhe took over the scepter of the King of Men."

Heureia's voice lowered, carrying a deep, overwhelming sorrow.

"Ning Zhe is not his real name."

"Only after donning the heavy crown of thorns of the King of Men did he relinquish the name bestowed upon him by his father and stubbornly insist that I and all the people of the Salt Land call him [King] Ningzhe."

Heuria closed her eyes, as if suppressing immense pain. When she opened them again, all that remained in her eyes was deep weariness and regret.

"I should have seen the ambition hidden in his name earlier."

As Heureia recounted her story, a vivid picture emerged in the traveler's mind.

In a desperate abyss where territory is being devoured, surrounded by powerful enemies like packs of wolves, and resources for survival are nearly exhausted, a young leader, holding a torch symbolizing the fate of his tribe, leads his weak people in a desperate struggle in the darkness.

He abandoned his past self and, in the name of Ning Zhe, made an unwavering vow.

Either lead your people to find a way to survive, or break apart and perish together with your people and this salty land!
At this moment, as the traveler looked at the decrepit Salt Demon before her, whose words were filled with endless regret, a cold and cruel realization gripped her heart like vines.

In this tragic and heroic struggle, Heureia, the salt goddess who should have protected her people like a loving mother, has somehow become the biggest obstacle that binds the salt soil and prevents Ning Zhe from fulfilling his resolute vow.

"So when Ning Zhe raised that longsword, which embodied the despair and resolve of the entire Salt Land, and pointed it at me, my first reaction was immense panic..."

Heureia's voice seemed to be squeezed out with difficulty from the cracks in the salt layer. She closed her eyes slightly, as if she were once again standing in front of that cold sword blade.

"But what follows is relief and liberation."

“I know I’m blocking the children’s path to survival.”

She paused, and the deep-seated, instinctive, and painful struggle of a mother finally surfaced, her voice filled with an indescribable sense of tearing apart:
"Ning Zhe once told me that salt soil requires a sharp sword and the courage to face the enemy."

"But I still don't want to push my children onto that battlefield that's like a grinding wheel of flesh."

Her gaze drifted towards the bustling Liyue Harbor in the distance, as if searching for the figures of those long-gone children of the Salt Flats. Her voice was low as a sigh, yet it contained an undeniable maternal resolve.
"As the mother of all these children, how can I, with my own hands, make the choice... to drive some of my children into mountains of corpses and seas of blood, while leaving the rest of them in salt pans?"

"As long as we back down... as long as we back down, no child will get hurt." (End of Chapter)