哥布林長老 跛皮

You have indeed violated an ancient taboo... Popy scanned the letter and nodded slowly.

"This is a traditional goblin custom. When something terrible happens, the tribe's shaman will inscribe everyone's anger, sadness, confusion, and pain onto a piece of parchment and sent it to a distant location. It's a means of trapping the evil and sending it far away."

"Whoever holds this letter will be cursed by the goblins' malice. As the holder suffers, their misery will deepen. This is nasty stuff," Popy explained grimly.

"You'd like to lift the curse, eh?"
Popy gripped his staff.

"You can't just throw such a powerful talisman away. The only way to drive away the bad luck is to face it head-on."

"Take this letter to the altar ruins at the center of the village. Defeat the huge black shadow that appears in the plumes of smoke."

"Be very careful. You will be fighting an apparition brimming with negative energy. If you are careless, you will suffer."

"%n%, it was destiny that brought you to me, so please listen to my story," pleaded Popy, the Goblin Elder.

"Many of my people have been killed in this war. I've never seen such carnage."

"My people remain blinded by hate; they throw themselves into futile revenge fantasies that never result in satisfaction."

"Sprite Messenger, please help them come to their senses. Don't let them throw their lives away. They cannot bring back the dead."

My people, come to your senses, and let's rebuild our homes together! Popy murmured, staring into the distance.

"My people are coming to their senses; they are no longer obsessed with revenge. Thank you for your help, human Sprite Messenger." Popy stuck his thumb up his nose in an apparent goblin gesture of appreciation.

"Now we must placate the spirits of the heroic dead."

"Human Sprite Messenger, please present flowers at each of the tombstones in the village. It will enable those who died in the war to rest in peace." Popy used his staff to gesture to different areas of the village.

"I will chant a requiem here to sooth their angry spirits."

Popy prayed solemnly in the goblin tongue, his head bowed low.

"Thank you for your help, human Sprite Messenger."

"This will allow my people to rest in peace. Death does not mean eternal separation. One of these days, they will return to our side by the will of the Sprite King; their souls will materialize inside a breeze on the plains or a deer in the woods." Popy smiled with relief, as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.