Chapter 456: Ideals and Death

The empire's western border held a stretch of rolling wilderness.

Once, only tumbleweeds and wild rabbits roamed here, so desolate that even thieves couldn't be bothered to visit.

But ever since the empire expanded its territory into this region, to preemptively guard against the Magical Tides surging from the valley forests in summer, and to protect the empire's border from creatures lurking in the darkness, the slimes heeded the empire's arrangement and migrated here in droves.

They built a frontier town upon the wilderness.

The town was small, its name simple: Oakwood Town.

It was named during the initial construction, when slime workers on a survey discovered an ancient oak tree, its trunk hollow yet still lush with branches and leaves.

The slimes took this as a good omen, named the town Oakwood Town, and kept the old oak tree in the central square as the town's symbol.

Though a frontier town, its city walls stood far taller than those of ordinary cities.

The massive granite walls rose a full twelve feet high, and along the battlements, gray sandstone crystals were embedded at intervals, casting a faint white glow at night that banished every shadow from the foot of the walls.

Adventurers and merchants returning from Golden Radiance Valley would often stay here for the night, restock supplies, share a warm drink, and continue on to the empire's interior the next day.

Over time, Oakwood Town grew exceptionally lively and prosperous. Streets lined with blacksmith shops, leatherworkers, apothecaries, and inns catering to adventurers flanked both sides.

Inside the Drunken Oak Tavern at the town's bustling center, every seat was taken.

Oak tables were laden with clay mugs of ale and wooden platters piled with roasted meat. The fireplace crackled as logs burned, warming the entire hall.

In one corner, a few tables of dwarves had already drunk themselves red-faced, slamming tables and bellowing loudly, arguing over whether the valley's lava spirits were better or the empire's new honey mead.

A nearby table of human adventurers refused to back down, shouting challenges to arm-wrestling matches, drawing cheers and whistles from the crowd.

Yet beneath this veneer of prosperity, undercurrents were already stirring.

.....

Dozens of miles from Oakwood Town, within the lush birch grove.

Moonlight filtered through gaps in the branches, casting dappled patterns on the ground.

The woods were unnaturally quiet. No chirping insects, no birdsong. Shadows twisted beneath the moonlight, as if something was writhing across the earth.

Then, slow footsteps echoed through the grove.

A tall figure draped in a wide cloak pushed through the underbrush, stepped into the moonlight, raised a scepter, and struck the ground with force.

"Thud."

"Go."

"Make enough noise."

As his words faded, the shadows within the grove suddenly seethed.

Countless shadow creatures burst forth from dark corners untouched by moonlight.

They had no fixed forms, sometimes stretching like elongated human silhouettes, sometimes crouching like lurking beasts. They spread beneath the ground, drowning the moonlit birch grove in a sea of blackness.

Then they surged rapidly toward the empire's interior, heading straight for Oakwood Town.

"Slime, I hope your plan doesn't fail."

A demon warlock stepped out from the shadows.

The Giant Undead named Krogg threw back his hood, revealing his massive skeletal skull.

"Mammon, don't underestimate my intelligence." Krogg's voice carried displeasure. "That Slime Emperor only became Legendary half a year ago. If we strike together, even if he hasn't left the western border, he's no match for us."

"All the plans I've laid are already more than enough to account for him."

He lowered his head, gazing at his own bone-white palms, and sneered: "Your ancestors probably never imagined that one day we'd face a slime and need to be this cautious."

Mammon nodded. "Let's hope so."

"Let's go."

Krogg pulled his hood back up, raised his scepter, and swept it forward.

Behind him, in the dark forest, countless Fissures silently yawned open. Undead and demons stepped forth from them.

First a few stragglers, then groups, and finally an unending flood pouring out like a breached dam.

Dense clusters of Soulfire flickered to life across the forest, sending chills down the spine.

.....

Inside Oakwood Town, the revelry continued.

Yvonne squeezed her way out of the stinking tavern, stood on the steps at the entrance, and drew a deep breath of the cool night air, finally feeling better.

Watching the adventurers coming and going on the street, her heart sank with frustration.

She probably wouldn't last much longer in this party.

Her hometown was far away, in the distant White Horse Kingdom, in a small village so obscure it barely appeared on any map.

She had grown up with her uncle, a retired old hunter who taught her archery and how to track beast trails.

When her uncle passed away, he left her only a hunter's journal.

During one hunting trip, she happened to master the hunter skill recorded in the journal, becoming a Professional.

Like countless young people from small towns, she had once dreamed of leaving home to see the wider world, to carve out a name for herself through adventures, just like the ballads the Bards sang.

But reality was far crueler than the songs.

She had joined several parties. Either the members were stinking drunkards who passed out every night and didn't crawl out of bed until noon the next day...

Or they were boastful old seniors who endlessly recounted how they'd slaughtered dozens of Gnolls on some mission thirty years ago, yet balked at even the simplest patrol duty.

Usually, she followed her teammates doing grunt work like disposing of corpses. After a full exhausting day, her share barely covered the cheapest room in a small inn and a few loaves of bread.

Sure, the empire's food subsidies kept her from starving, but this was nothing like the adventurous life she'd imagined.

Thinking about it, she drooped her head in frustration and kicked a pebble on the steps with her boot.

Of course, maybe her level was just too low. Better adventuring parties wouldn't take her.

She'd seen elite adventurers in gleaming armor recruiting at the tavern. She'd summoned the courage to approach, but they'd only glanced at her, noted her old bow and faded leather armor, and politely turned her away.

That sense of falling short had filled her with crushing disappointment.

Yvonne raised her head, watching the groups of slimes hopping past on the street, her gaze unconsciously following their round, bouncy forms.

If only she could team up with slimes.

The thought suddenly popped into her head.

Thinking it over, these slimes really were a lot like her younger self, always holding onto their passion and pure-heartedness for adventure.

Most of these little fellows were simple-minded, without all the scheming and calculation adults had.

They wouldn't secretly skim the loot while you slept, nor would they boast at the table about things they'd never done.

They were practically the ideal adventuring companions straight out of adventure novels.

Maybe she could try forming her own slime adventuring party?

She mulled it over and thought the idea sounded pretty good.

But then she grew dejected again.

At her level, even slimes would probably look down on her as their captain.

Whether it was luck or not, just as she was lost in thought, a Slime Warrior bounced out of the tavern.

Unlike the cheerful slime adventurers hopping in groups down the street, it stood alone by the tavern entrance, its whole gel body drooping in dejection, like a piece of sun-dried jelly.

The Slime Warrior looked up and happened to spot Yvonne standing on the steps. Its round little eyes lit up, and it bounced over.

"Hello!" The Slime Warrior's voice carried a hint of hope. "Excuse me, is your party still recruiting?"

Yvonne blinked. "Uh... recruiting?"

She crouched down, curiously studying the slime before her.

Its gel body was a light green, with a small iron sword inside its belly, looking like a warrior.

Through a brief exchange, Yvonne learned that this slime had just gotten into a fight with its teammates and left its original party.

The reason was that the other members felt it was too quiet and didn't fit in.

Every time they rested, it would squat alone in a corner, silently polishing its sword.

Over time, the others found it too dull, and after an argument, they kicked it out of the team.

Yvonne listened, feeling a pang of resonance.

Wasn't this exactly like her?

She was also too introverted, not good at socializing with teammates. Every party gathering, she'd sit in the corner like an outsider.

She couldn't jump into conversations, and she wouldn't chime in on their boasts. Eventually, she became the most unwelcome person in the group.

Looking at this dejected green slime before her, a wave of kinship suddenly welled up in her heart.

Wait, this was actually a good chance to recruit a member.

But she was so weak. Surely it would look down on her.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't find the words.

Seeing her unresponsive, the Slime Warrior thought she was rejecting it. The light in its little eyes quickly dimmed.

It lowered its head, murmured "Sorry to bother you," and turned to hop away.

"Wait!" Yvonne called out instinctively.

The Slime Warrior stopped, turned around, and hope reignited in its little eyes.

Just as Yvonne took a deep breath and prepared to speak, the moonlight spilling across the street suddenly dimmed, as if something had blotted out the sky.

Before the adventurers on the street could react, an urgent alarm blared through the Gel Network.

"Enemy attack!"

Yvonne quickly looked up.

In the sky, countless black figures streaked through the moonlight in a blur.

Most of the dark shapes flew deeper into the empire's western border, but some circled and lingered above Oakwood Town, like vultures surveying prey on the ground.

"En... enemies?!"

Panic flooded Yvonne's heart. On instinct, she scooped up the bewildered Slime Warrior beside her, spun around, and dashed into a narrow alley nearby, pressing herself against the wall to hide.

Soon, louder commotion erupted across the town.

People were shouting in panic, voices echoing through the streets, growing more chaotic.

Then came a dull, thunderous crash from the distance.

"The wall's breached! The undead are in the city!"

"Run! Head for the east gate!"

"Don't push--!"

Hearing the shouts, Yvonne's face went pale. Clutching the Slime Warrior, she cowered in the alley's shadows, too afraid to move, and squeezed her eyes shut.

The Slime Warrior poked its head out from her arms, listened intently to the commotion outside, then looked at her: "Captain, let's fight our way out."

"Huh?"

Yvonne was stunned.

Captain? Since when was she a captain?

She looked down at the little green creature in her arms, finding it gazing at her with its round little eyes, filled only with unwavering resolve.

As if in its eyes, she was already a captain worthy of trust.

Yvonne stared at it blankly for two seconds, then drew a deep breath, forcing the fear surging in her heart down.

She couldn't let that trust down.

"...Alright."

She quickly nodded, set it on the ground, then cautiously peeked out to survey the alley entrance.

The street had descended into chaos. Figures ran everywhere, flames danced on distant rooftops, and the air reeked of burnt smoke.

She locked onto the direction of the east gate, lowered her profile, and moved swiftly with the Slime Warrior toward it.

After covering some distance, the Slime Warrior suddenly asked curiously: "Captain, shouldn't we grab horses from the stables? Riding would be faster."

Yvonne's face flushed with embarrassment.

She didn't know how to ride.

A poor girl from the countryside, her family couldn't even afford a donkey, let alone a horse.

Besides, a single horse cost more than several months of her rent. There was no way she'd spend that kind of money.

Her mind raced through several excuses, then she gritted her teeth and said: "The stables... there were sounds coming from there earlier. The undead might have already taken it. Going there would be too dangerous."

The Slime Warrior had a sudden realization, its little eyes shining with admiration: "I see, Captain thinks of everything."

Yvonne turned her face away guiltily, unable to meet its gaze.

Just then, a clatter of hooves came from up ahead.

Several horses burst around the street corner, reins dragging on the ground, clearly spooked and bolting from the stables.

Terror filled their eyes as they galloped blindly down the street, followed by a few smaller foals.

The Slime Warrior's eyes lit up, and it bounced over without hesitation.

Its gel body sprang like a coiled spring, landing on the back of a chestnut mare. Its little gel hands grabbed the trailing reins, bringing the horse under control.

"Captain! Hurry up!" it called back, patting the saddle with its little gel hands.

Yvonne stood at the alley entrance, gaping at the green slime mounted on horseback.

This was the first time she'd ever seen a slime ride a horse.

She'd seen slime cavalry patrolling on giant iron beetles in Winterhold, and that was certainly an imposing sight, but she'd never seen a slime on a horse.

She snapped out of it and rushed over.

Getting on the horse, however, proved far less smooth than she'd imagined.

Trying to mimic the knights, she planted her left foot in the stirrup, gripped the saddle with her right hand, and heaved herself up.

Her center of gravity was completely off, and she nearly flipped over backward.

She frantically grabbed the saddle strap, fumbling and adjusting her position several times before barely scrambling onto the horse's back.

The Slime Warrior controlled the reins up front, completely unaware of its captain's humiliation.

It glanced around.

Undead had already flooded this street, slowly closing in.

"Captain, they're here!"

Yvonne looked back, her heart clenching.

At the critical moment, the hunter's instinct surged through her. She pulled the old bow from her back.

Nock the arrow. Draw. Aim.

[Precision]

In that instant, her breathing steadied. The world seemed to slow down before her eyes.

She could even make out the cracks in that undead's skull, see the bone dust flaking off as it stepped forward.

She released the bowstring.

"Whoosh--!"

The arrow split the air, piercing clean through the undead's skull, pinning it to the wooden wall behind.

The Slime Warrior turned and saw this, its little eyes sparkling like twin stars: "As expected of the Captain! Amazing!"

Yvonne's cheeks burned from the praise.

"You focus on riding. I'll handle them."

She drew another arrow and nocked it.

With each arrow loosed, undead fell one after another. Her movements grew smoother, more confident, as if she were back in her childhood, practicing target shooting with her uncle in the forest.

They charged through the chaotic streets, and just as they neared the east gate, the shouts ahead sent their hearts sinking.

"The east gate is blocked too!"

"It's over! We're all done for!"

Dozens of adventurers were trapped in the small plaza before the east gate, surrounded by an ever-growing tide of undead.

They stood back to back, despair etched on their faces.

Yvonne's fingers on the bow trembled slightly.

It's over.

This was really it.

The east gate was sealed, their escape route cut off, and undead were closing in from the streets behind.

They were trapped in this town.

She even started regretting coming to the western border, regretting becoming an adventurer, regretting...

She took a deep breath and shook her head hard.

No, she couldn't give up.

She'd finally found a teammate who called her "Captain." How could she just abandon that?

She gritted her teeth and shouted to the trapped adventurers: "Don't give up, everyone! Let's break through together!"

The adventurers looked up, surprised to see a young woman who barely looked past twenty shouting at them.

They froze for a moment, then felt a pang of shame.

If a young girl had this much courage, what did they, grizzled old adventurers, have to fear?

"She's right, break through!"

"I've lived this long, I'm not dying here!"

"Charge! Through the east gate!"

A surge of new strength infused the crumbling group. They re-gripped their weapons, rallied together, and followed the chestnut mare in a renewed assault toward the east gate.

Yvonne kept firing from horseback.

Her movements grew increasingly practiced. Draw, loose. Every arrow claimed an undead.

But there were simply too many. Her quiver soon ran dry, and the relentless shooting drained her spirit. Her arrows grew less and less accurate.

She tossed aside the empty quiver and grabbed a short sword passed up by an adventurer, swinging wildly.

She had no idea how to use a sword, but whether by luck or fate's favor, a few clumsy swings actually smashed an undead's skull.

Before she could feel any excitement, the undead ranks suddenly parted.

A towering figure stepped out from behind them.

It was a high-ranking undead clad in battered armor, its frame far bulkier than the common undead. One arm was a rusted iron shield, the other gripped a greatsword caked with dried blood.

The Soulfire in its eye sockets burned far brighter than the rest, a cold, eerie blue. It slowly swept its gaze across the crowd in the plaza, then fixed on Yvonne at the front.

It began walking toward her.

Yvonne's courage nearly shattered in that moment.

The pressure bore down on her like a wall, squeezing the breath from her lungs.

Her hand gripping the short sword shook. Her legs trembled. The horse grew restless, stumbling backward several steps.

"Captain, you run first!" The Slime Warrior hopped onto the horse's head, its gaze resolute, ready to fight to the death.

At the same time, the high-ranking undead raised its greatsword, aiming at them.

Fear engulfed Yvonne's heart. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but the moment she saw the Slime Warrior's back, she felt something she'd lost slowly return to her chest.

It was her old ideals, her fantasies of adventure.

So she mustered her courage and raised the short sword.

But the gap in strength couldn't be filled by ideals alone. Just as everyone thought they would die under that blade, strange sounds came from the sky.

"Thud! Thud! Thud!"

Several shadows crashed into the undead ranks, smashing the surrounding common undead into bone fragments.

As the dust settled, round figures were revealed.

Grayish-green gel, surfaces shimmering with a faint magical glow. They were actually Wind Slimes.

They swung the small short swords in their hands, and several wind blades howled forth, slicing nearby undead clean in half.

Then, a silver-white figure plummeted from higher in the sky, striking the high-ranking undead's head like a falling meteor.

"Crack!"

The figure crushed the high-ranking undead's skull beneath its weight, landing on the ground with a dull thud.

It was a Metal Slime.

The adventurers recognized these slimes.

They were all from the Slime Legion, and the elite of the elite.

"The Legion's here, it's the Slime Legion!"

Someone in the crowd shouted.

"Thank goodness, we're saved!"

Just as the adventurers erupted in celebration, a low rumbling sound echoed from the horizon.

The rumbling grew closer, as if some colossal object was breaking through the clouds.

Yvonne instinctively looked up toward the source of the sound.

She saw a massive fortress break through the clouds, slowly emerging into the moonlight.

The empire's banner hung from the fortress, snapping in the night wind. The magic formation beneath its hull hummed with a deep, resonant drone.

It was the Sky Oath.

The adventurers went absolutely wild.

Some tossed hats into the air, others embraced each other, and a few even dropped to their knees shouting in triumph.

Yvonne sat on the horse, gazing up at the majestic fortress slowly sailing past the moon, feeling her eyes grow hot.

Then she looked down at the short sword in her hand, and the Slime Warrior cheering ahead of her.

She had survived.

And she'd gained a slime teammate.

She suddenly felt that maybe she wasn't so useless after all.