In a stretch of forest within the kingdom’s fallen territory, near the western coast.
Glurp… glurp…
A pale-blue slime emerged from a bare earthen burrow.
Its jelly-like body rippled back and forth. Within the translucent form, fragments of undigested mycelium and mushroom caps were faintly visible.
Slimes were magical creatures formed from ambient mana mixed with simple water and earth elements. For them, mana was not only the foundation of existence but also the sole nourishment for growth.
Most of their behavior revolved around devouring more mana.
Thus, when slime swarms attacked adventurer parties, they instinctively targeted mages first.
Thus, when powerful magic accessories activated, they easily attracted gatherings of slimes.
Thus, compared to ordinary plants or common monsters, these greedy slimes prioritized consuming mana-rich fungal mats and the Puchis born from them!
Unfortunately, the few scraps inside this slime were probably the last remnants of fungal mat in the vicinity.
The slime seemed unsatisfied with its meal. It prepared to scoop up some withered grass and leaves to fill its belly when it suddenly sensed an enticing mana source nearby.
The slime flattened against the ground and silently flowed toward the direction.
Approaching the target, locking position, coiling to spring!
Its jelly body traced an arc through the air, lunging straight at the perceived mana source!
A curved blade flashed with astonishing speed, slicing into its body. The edge not only cut the outer membrane but pierced the core within.
With a “splat,” the slime burst like a punctured water balloon, collapsing into a puddle of mucus.
Vera flicked his wrist, shaking off the few drops of slime on the curved blade. He swiftly drew a cloth soaked in special oil and meticulously wiped the blade clean.
Most adventurers disliked slimes. These creatures rarely dropped valuable materials, yet their highly acidic fluids easily corroded metal, making weapon maintenance a hassle.
Novice adventurers who couldn’t locate the core often ruined several blades before learning.
“How many is this now?” Feiyin looked at the puddle of mucus on the ground, brows slightly furrowed. “There seem to be even more slimes here than in the dungeon.”
Feiling landed silently from a higher branch nearby.
She crouched, using her dagger tip to fish out a fingernail-sized slime core from the mucus and tucked it into a small leather pouch at her waist.
“No choice,” she said. “There aren’t many monsters here that prey on them, so no natural enemies. Ambient mana density is decent too. Naturally, they multiply unchecked.”
Vera finished cleaning his blade and sheathed it. He turned to the sisters. “Any traces nearby?”
“Nothing.” Feiling shook her head, expression dimming. Her voice lowered. “If Sirian were here… he could always ‘ask’ the plants things we couldn’t notice.”
The name briefly froze the air.
At the end of the mist incident, the three hadn’t witnessed Sirian’s dissipation.
When the mist cleared, they abandoned the retreating Goldvalley group and searched the area repeatedly for a long time, finding nothing. They could only leave dejectedly.
When human adventurers began returning to the fallen zone, they were among the first to come back.
Vera and the others knew well.
In the final mist illusion, Feiling and Feiyin hid in the cellar. Vera drew away pursuers. Though they tried their best, their actions weren’t enough to dispel the mist.
The one who truly saved them from desperation could only have been Sirian.
Yet he vanished.
Even knowing Sirian was likely dead, they hoped at least to find his remains and return their companion’s body to the Elf Forest.
Yet still no clue. Instead, they got involved in other matters along the way.
Now they lingered at the forest outskirts searching for traces of a missing adventurer team.
The team leader was Anton, who once collapsed a hillside while Vera’s group was pursued by demons, successfully blocking the chasers and saving them.
Not long ago, Anton’s team accepted a scouting mission here and never returned.
They were the second team to go missing in the area recently.
For a time, this stretch of forest near the western coast became a high-risk zone among adventurers. No one dared approach.
Only Vera’s trio, indebted to Anton, came looking.
Of course, they didn’t rashly venture deep. They cautiously started from the periphery, searching for any possible clues or tracks.
So far, little harvest.
“Let’s go a bit deeper. If…” Vera’s words were cut short as Feiling suddenly covered his mouth.
Feiling’s other finger pressed to her lips, then pointed to her ear—she heard unusual sounds.
Vera immediately fell silent. Feiyin tacitly pulled a small packet of pale-pink powder from her pouch. With a wrist flick, fine powder sprinkled over the three, briefly masking their mana signatures—a simple counter-detection method.
The three held their breath. Under Feiling’s lead, using trees and rocks for cover, they stealthily moved toward the sound source.
Gently parting dense foliage, they spotted a demon—more precisely, a succubus.
The succubus faced away, her signature heart-shaped tail swaying lightly.
She was intently pulling thorns from a vine, muttering incomprehensible demon tongue repeatedly.
The three exchanged glances. Feiling unslung her shortbow, drawing an arrow from her quiver…
…
“Save you… not save you… save you… not save you…” Moya chanted while using long nails to pick vine thorns.
“Not save you!” Pulling the last thorn, she seemed relieved—as if finding an excuse—and muttered, “Stinky fish, can’t blame me for being disloyal. It’s the vine… uh, fate’s instruction.”
She patted her hands, as if brushing away faint guilt.
“Rest in peace, good partner. They say dying in their hands isn’t painful… You lived pretty long for a goblin—decent ending.”
She stretched her numb body from crouching, looking at dawn light on horizon, taking deep breath—ready to let go of past and embrace new future!
“Whoosh”—an arrow pierced her side abdomen. Intense pain exploded!
Enemies!
Human adventurers? Or the lunatics who took stinky fish?
Damn—if stinky fish were here, he’d have noticed approach long ago!
Moya endured tearing abdominal pain, gritting teeth to draw waist dagger, trying to turn and fight.
But Vera was faster.
Curved blade already at her slender neck, edge pressing skin with chilling cold.
(End of Chapter)
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