Slime 12 (Patreon)

“…Why does this keep happening to us?!”

That was Kaval’s incredulous, panicked shout as he dove out of the way of an incoming spray of corrosive venom spat by a very stubborn and aggressive centipede monster.

He rolled across the ground, sprang up, and quickly readied his shield to block its follow-up ramming attack. The impact pushed him back a few steps, but he still managed a counterattack…

A sword slash to the creepy monster’s leg-sized mandible.

…and no effect at all—barely a dent.

He yelped, jumping aside again as Ellen’s Icicle Lance slammed into the monster, jerking its head to the side.

The creature turned back toward them and let out a chilling shriek, betraying that it hadn’t suffered any damage from all that. Ellen, bless her wondrous heart, was unrelenting, keeping the barrage of spells incoming.

Kaval took that opportunity to join up with them, his mind filtering through plans and strategies.

“The guild always gives the wrong ranking to these monsters,” Gido said from the sidelines, hiding poorly behind a tree. “This thing isn’t a B-rank.”

Well, that much was obvious. 

Their mysterious companion—their saviour, in truth—dashed forward at enviable speed and caught the monster in the body with a booming kick. The centipede hurtled back, shrieking and writhing as purplish liquid spilled from its mouth.

“Take that, you bastard centipede!” Kaval shouted in triumph—he hated these insect-type monsters. “Let’s get out of here before it recovers.”

Needing no further convincing, and having encountered one monster after another, the party ran, dashing deeper into the forest and away from danger. Gido did what he could to cover their trail and hinder any tracking. This little expedition was proving to be far more tiresome than expected.

He was definitely going to ask for extra money.

After running at full speed for what felt like ten minutes, they finally slowed down, keeping a relaxed pace.

“What’s wrong with this forest today? It wasn’t this bad when we came here a while ago,” Ellen asked, her voice thick with exhaustion and exasperation. “And how are we supposed to survive without our supplies?”

“We probably should have fought that pack of direwolves harder, huh?” Kaval said in lament. He was sure he could have landed a debilitating strike on their leader if he’d gone all out.

“No,” the masked adventurer said softly, her voice low. “The leader of that pack was a Majin and an evolved monster.”

That surprised him. Though, in a way, it made sense; something had felt very wrong with those direwolves, given how eerily coordinated they were.

“…Guess that makes sense,” Gido said with a sigh. He unfastened the waterskin from his belt and passed it to Ellen. “Still, it was pretty cruel of them to steal our supplies like that—I had our money in there.”

Kaval froze, his heart skipping a beat. Slowly, dread building, he turned to his friend, praying he’d misheard.

“What?”

“Eh?” Gido looked at him in confusion before smiling nervously. “Ah, yeah. I kinda just put our coin pouch in the supplies—”

Kaval lunged at the idiot, wrapping his arms around his neck and shaking him violently in a mix of plea and rage, hoping the words were a joke. “Why? Why would you do something so stupid—that was our entire savings, you ugly bastard?”

He could feel warmth building in his eyes and his beautiful, charitable heart breaking into so many pieces. All that coin. All his hard work… Sure, it was only five gold coins earned from those potions, but damn if it wasn’t their entire livelihood.

Why did fate hate heroic individuals like himself? Why? Dammit, he wanted to go back home—this little adventure was proving to be more tiring than enjoyable.

“Get off me, you moron!” Gido shouted, trying to pry him away. But Kaval was set on strangling this bastard for dooming them to poverty. “It’s not like you didn’t lose some of it yourself!”

He was finally pushed away, and Gido took a few steps back, glaring daggers at him.

“I didn’t lose it,” Kaval defended himself—he hadn’t, indeed, lost those three gold coins. “I merely failed in trying to multiply our wealth. Do you want to keep doing these dangerous missions forever?”

These two should be thanking him for his efforts.

“That’s always your excuse, you gambling addict…”

They kept bickering as they walked, the two women ignoring them entirely. Of course, they weren’t so careless in their spat; they stayed alert for any predatory monsters that might catch them unaware. Surprisingly, this section of the forest seemed devoid of predators, boasting only a few harmless creatures—no, a lot of them.

And now that he thought about it, the place felt a bit… unnatural. How could so much prey exist without attracting predators?

“Oi, guys?” Kaval called, scanning the area. It wasn’t actually eerie or foreboding—just suspiciously artificial. That might explain why their masked companion wasn’t alarmed; she had unnaturally sharp senses. “I think we should raise our guard a bit more. This place is—”

“Look over there!” Ellen interrupted him. He doubted she’d even been listening. What was the point of being party leader if no one listened to him half the time?

Still, he followed her pointing finger and spotted a… hut? Not just any hut, but a large, well-maintained one, complete with all the necessary amenities inside. The surroundings were beautiful too: manicured plants, a gravel path bordering them, and a paved road leading in and out of the area.

“Oi, isn’t this a bit too suspicious?” Gido asked, glancing toward Kaval.

Kaval nodded slowly, though his danger sense wasn’t screaming at him. On top of that, the place was completely deserted, practically begging for their company. “Let’s check it out.”

Surprisingly, Ellen agreed, stepping forward with the masked adventurer at her side. Well, if that wasn’t a guarantee of safety, Kaval didn’t know what was. He hurried to join them, leaving an incredulous Gido trailing behind.

The lounge felt like a haven graciously surrendered to them by the fairy queen herself—Kaval knew it in his bones. The place was stocked to bursting with exquisite foodstuffs and fancy utensils he’d only ever seen among the upper class of Sarion society…

Choosing Brumund for this adventurous fancy had proven to be both the right and wrong decision all at once.

“These are all gold, silver, and porcelain—things that shouldn’t be this deep in the forest,” Ellen said, taking a delicate bite of a strange, thin-layered cake topped with white cream. It looked impossibly pretty and delicious, one of many such treats found in a strangely designed cold box that seemed to respond to the desires of whoever opened its door.

There was even a compact kitchen, fashioned in an elegant yet utterly foreign style. Not a trace of spirit engineering, yet everything functioned as if that very technology powered it.

Kaval bit into his delectable sandwich again, still marveling at its ingredients. He could identify the bread and cucumber, but the meats, sauce, cheese, and other mysteries eluded him entirely.

They shouldn’t be mysteries. He was already planning to recreate these wonders once he returned home, where ingredients were more plentiful.

Glancing around—at his friends and their enigmatic companion—he saw that everyone had relaxed into the bounty. 

Even ever-cautious Gido was gorging himself on a strange, cheese- and sauce-laden flatbread topped with green vegetables and bits of meat. It was enormous—shield-sized—and cut into triangular slices, and Gido was clearly in bliss.

Such odd, delightful foods. Such pleasing, unfamiliar aesthetics.

Kaval drew a deep breath, savoring the air, then let it out slowly.

This was a very strange, miraculous lounge. He was half-convinced he’d wandered into a dream spun from pure fantasy. Everything was perfect: the food magnificent, the chairs sinfully comfortable, the ambiance ideal, the view breathtaking.

The only thing untouched was their own minds—no compulsive enchantment, no mind-altering magic. Which made it all the more reckless that they had intruded into this clearly private space and helped themselves so freely.

This was dangerous. Whoever owned it was surely not someone to trifle with—Ellen couldn’t even detect or decipher the magic woven into the place.

In their defense, the opportunity had been impossible to ignore. Besides, Kaval was duty-bound to document every discoverable oddity for his report to the duke. The man would be thrilled—or at least intrigued—to hear of this hidden gem. Any news of curiosities in the Great Forest of Jura was valuable.

And on that note…

“Do you think this place might be causing the unrest in the forest?” Kaval asked, watching a magnificently antlered stag spare them a curious glance before sauntering away. “It has to be connected, right?”

“How, though?” Gido raised a brow. Kaval suspected his friend shared the same suspicions but, true to form, was chasing logical explanations first.

Ellen looked skeptical. “This just seems like a sanctuary for harmless creatures—and there aren’t even that many, from what I can tell.” She glanced around. “A handful of animals couldn’t disrupt the entire ecosystem.”

Put like that, it did sound convincing. Still, Kaval remained certain this site—or its creator—was at least partly responsible.

Though he wasn’t deeply knowledgeable about Jura, he suspected the lounge itself was recent.

“The monsters attacking us aren’t native to this area,” their masked companion said quietly. Once again, all three turned to heed her. “They’ve migrated from the southern reaches of the forest—that’s why they’re so exceptionally strong.”

That made perfect sense. Kaval vaguely recalled readings about how magicule concentration directly influenced the power and evolution of magic beasts. The influence of demon lords farther south would naturally strengthen the creatures there.

But the revelation raised a spine-chilling question: what change down south had driven these monsters northward?

What were those demon lords planning?

“Well, I don’t think we should head south to investigate,” Kaval said seriously. “I have no desire to get caught up in whatever’s happening—or worse, captured and enslaved.” He needed to impress the danger on Ellen especially, before she convinced herself her status would protect her from such beings.

The wrath of Milim still haunted his homeland’s collective memory. All generations needed reminding not to grow overconfident against entities wielding incomprehensible power.

The demon lords were exactly that.

“That is wise,” the masked woman agreed softly. Her affirmation bolstered Kaval’s confidence more than he cared to admit. “I’m sure Guildmaster Fuze will be pleased with what you’ve already uncovered.”

Easily, almost naturally, a voice slithered into their conversation…

“…Wise indeed!”

The words, like silk woven with eloquence, shook Kaval to his core—they came from someone who hadn’t been there before. He and everyone in the lounge snapped their heads toward the entrance, where a pair—man and woman—stood in silent observation.

Kaval’s heart thudded with a slow, heavy beat as his eyes fixed on the man. He was tall, with a fair, almost feminine face, deep and mesmerizing golden eyes, sharp features, and long, lustrous blue hair. He appeared slender and unbothered, clad in regal green raiment: a long buttoned shirt and unblemished pants. A coat draped over his attire, reaching to his shins, failing to hide the polished shoes he sported.

But what nearly stopped Kaval’s heart were the man’s ears—elven, without a doubt—and his eerie resemblance to Empress Elmesia. Even his voice carried that ethereal cadence.

“I didn’t think I’d be met with guests here,” the elven stranger continued, his eyes patiently grazing each of them… studying with faint interest before shifting to the woman at his side. “What think you, my fair Hana?”

“I believe it quite rude of them to intrude into Lord Rimuru’s sacred garden without invitation,” the woman replied, her voice high and laced with annoyance.

And wasn’t she strange too?

She was noticeably pretty, though not excessively so: heart-shaped face, doe eyes, button nose, adequately plump lips, and shoulder-length amethyst hair. She had a nice figure too; he wasn’t afraid to admit. A shorter stature, an ample chest, narrow waist, and prominent hips.

She wore a long maid’s dress that fell to her calves, paired with white stockings. Her hands rested over her abdomen in proper maid-like poise, though her expression betrayed clear displeasure.

But most striking was her skin—a dull greenish shade that marked her as a demihuman. A goblin, Kaval guessed. No, a hobgoblin; she bore an uncanny human resemblance.

A named monster.

This wasn’t good.

“That may be so, but my Eden is a refuge for all who might seek protection,” the elven man said, his smile crinkling his golden eyes convincingly. Yet it did little to ease Kaval’s unease—he’d seen Empress Elmesia wear similar kindness too many times. “Besides, they’ve been allowed entry. That speaks more to their character than any forced courtesy could reveal.”

With that, seemingly dismissing them as mildly intriguing curiosities, the man—Rimuru, an odd name for an elf—stepped into the lounge proper.

Shockingly, the building widened without shifting externally. What kind of magic was that? Unspoken, with barely any sign beyond the dreamlike effect—and that effect defied description.

Aspectual Magic? But what school? Where were his chants? Where were the formulaic spell circles? What about the magicule expenditure? Or, if one was feeling a bit more critical, where was the feeling of wrongness felt when the unnatural was introduced to the natural?

Was it the Illusory Arts, perhaps?

The room continued to derange with unfathomable incomprehension.

From nowhere, a simple dark desk and chair materialized at the room’s center, a small pile of papers and a stamp appearing atop it. He sat down, still eyeing them with amusement.

“There are curiosities here,” he said, and Kaval realized his own seat had somehow turned to face the man. “Let’s sate them.”

Reaching for his side, Kaval found his weapon missing. Glancing at the others, he saw the same: their arms gone, especially their mysterious companion’s… whatever it was…

What was she missing, again?

She patted her face incredulously, then her chest, then her face again.

“Allow me to begin—call it the host’s privilege,” the man continued. His gaze settled on Ellen, then Gido, before landing on Kaval. “This is the second time in just a few months you three have ventured deep into this forest. I’d ask your names and intentions, if you don’t mind sharing.”

The hobgoblin, Hana, approached but only to collect his plate before moving to the others.

Kaval’s eyes flicked back to the elf, his mind racing. What to say? What to do? Then, as if the words had only just registered, his eyes widened.

“Wait, you know us?” he blurted without thinking.

Luckily, the man seemed unbothered. He nodded simply. “I do.”

This time, it was Ellen who spoke up. “Were you the one who attacked us?” She pointed accusingly at the man, eyes wide with shock and conviction.

Again, no reaction beyond a calm nod. “I was.”

“Why, though?” Kaval couldn’t help but ask. Whatever skill or spell was used against them was incredibly painful and lingering—all of them got itchy skin in the presence of rain. “What did we ever do to you?”

This time, the man raised a brow, a faint smile gracing his unfairly fair face. “I do remember you inviting me to do so.”

Kaval’s eyes widened at the sudden rush of memory. He flinched back as Ellen and Gido shot him venomous glares.

Oi, why were they angry at him? Didn’t they understand his actions had been completely justified? Argh—leadership was nothing but stress and ungrateful responsibility.

But the elf continued, unperturbed. “Though I suppose much of the act was selfish. I was… curious about your apparent lack of vigilance.”

For the first time, a trace of apology changed his features. “Once again, I ask your forgiveness and offer whatever boon you might desire. I’ll even extend that privilege to your curious companion over there.”

His golden gaze settled on their mysterious friend, whose eyes widened in visible surprise.

Ellen wasted no time. “Can you help us with the lingering effects of the attack you inflicted?”

“Ah, I forgot Black Lightning carries a curse-like aftereffect,” the man said, a spark of excitement lighting his expression. “Yes, restoring you should be simple enough. Let me just…”

«Curse Resistance… has been acquired.»

Kaval and his companions jolted in their seats, startled by the clear, disembodied voice of the world ringing inside their heads.

“…There,” the man said casually, as if he’d merely brushed away dust. “That should rid you of any lingering disadvantages.”

What? He’d just… what? That wasn’t possible, was it?

“But let’s return to the matter at hand,” he continued smoothly. “I still desire your names—and your reasons for venturing so deep into this forest.”

Kaval, for the first time, felt his stomach fall as one thing was made clearly apparent. This individual, and he felt it deep in his core and spirit, was definitely not someone to be trifled with. He just wasn’t normal—not in the slightest bit.

He gulped, deciding to oblige the mysterious blue hair elven stranger.