There was no escaping the truth: we were absolutely boned. Outnumbered twenty to one by a gaggle of low-tier monsters, outmaneuvered at every turn, and stuck with a trembling princess who was utterly useless in a fight. Things couldn’t get worse—or so I thought.
Fury boiled in my chest at the sheer unfairness of it all. Maybe if I’d just let that damn slime have its “food tax” from the beginning, I wouldn’t be in this mess. But no, here we were.
The most baffling part? The predator-prey alliance. Weren’t slimes and hoplops natural enemies? Did slimes only eat them once they were dead? Was that why this unholy coalition worked? My mind buzzed with questions I’d probably never answer—because, really, who cared about the dietary habits of slimes at a time like this?
I shook off the grating thoughts and steadied myself, legs straddling the edge of the hole. With a small jump, I landed on solid ground, and several of the creatures instinctively backed away.
Apparently, even after everything, they were unconvinced that I wasn’t still some bloodthirsty treant. Good. I could work with that.
I don’t know what the odds are of a couple dozen slimes and demon rabbits defeating a real treant, and thankfully neither did they, as the rabbit slime didn’t immediately charge or encourage others to do the same. It was a monster standoff.
There was nothing else to it, then. Drawing on every ounce of primal rage and desperation, I arched my back, let the foliage slump dramatically, and took a deep breath.
“AHGHH-WOOWOOWOOWOOGAGGGHH!”
The roar erupted from somewhere deep in my soul, a guttural bellow that would’ve made even the fiercest beast proud. I trampled forward with all my might, trying to be the most convincing tree monster one could possibly imagine.
As expected, several of the smaller monsters bolted. Fraud or not, the sight of a gargantuan “treant” lunging in their direction was enough to send them scampering away, chubby tails tucked firmly between their legs.
But not all of them. The rabbit slime and a handful of others stood firm, retreating only slightly in intimidation.
Cowardly bluffs, I thought proudly. I saw how the rabbit slime reacted the first time I looked at it, there’s no chance in hell it gained the courage to take us on like this.
I took another step forward, trying to press my advantage. But then I felt it—a slight shift beneath me. The ground began to give way.
I dove out of the treant costume just as the ground crumbled beneath it. A second, even larger hole yawned open, swallowing the entire bush in one gigantic gulp. Dust billowed everywhere, and I didn’t wait to see what came next. Using the obscure mess as an opportunity, I ran for my life, limbs pumping in pure desperation.
It took several seconds for the dust to settle behind us and for the slimes to realize that the jig was up, and before long the slimes, outpacing the hoplops by far, made a beeline straight for us.
The chase was on. It was a dog race, and we were the unlucky rabbits leading the pack.
As though on cue for our newfound role, our mad sprint tore into the dirt path ahead. The ground flew past us like a blur as my feet, one of which was leaving a blood trail from the spear, were stretched to their limit.
It was like they could smell the terror as I ran, knowing this was my final chance for escape, and they hopped as fast as they ever had.
“I hate slimes!” I cried in dismay.
My mind raced just as fast as my legs, searching for something—anything—to slow the mob down.
In a brief, frantic glance toward the horizon—still wondering how the hell the day cycle in this world worked—I saw it.
A crumbling stone fort stood just beyond the path, its decayed walls offering a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.
With the sight of salvation before me, a second wind surged through my legs. Every squat, every painful lunge I’d ever endured in my meager acting life seemed to push me forward as my scrawny rooster legs flew toward the decrepit fortress.
Ichni clung to my shoulder like a terrified cat, her claws digging in as she screamed at the top of her lungs.
“They’re gonna eat us! Noooooo~!”
With my legs on the verge of collapse, I vaulted the broken rock wall, catching it awkwardly with my foot. I tumbled into the fortress’s inner courtyard in a heap, then scuttled into the condemned building like a cornered animal.
Slamming the splintered door shut behind me, I collapsed into a dusty corner, my chest heaving as I fought for air. Every instinct screamed at me to crawl further inside, to find a more defensible position—but my legs had officially gone on strike.
Cramped and utterly spent, I forced myself to peek through a hole in the wall. Sure enough, they were out there. The rabbit slime stood perched on a crumbling stone pillar, scanning the area with its beady red eyes, its gelatinous body quivering with bloodlust.
A couple of slimes, bouncing up and down in excitement, were waiting to see if they risked it for the biscuit.
But after a tense minute, as the sky grew darker, the rabbit slime made a loud slurping noise—like a raspberry blown in defeat—and turned back toward its territory. The others followed, leaving me slumped in relief.
I sighed in desperate relief. We were safe… for now.
“Whew, we were almost goners there, eh?” I said with shaky amusement. “Thought we were about to meet our ends here.”
Ichni didn’t respond. She stood frozen, her eyes darting around the room like a frightened mouse. Whatever she was seeing had made her terrified. As though she had realized something that was very, very wrong.
“A-a-a-adrian,” she stammered, her voice trembling as her face turned a pale shade of pink. “Th-this isn’t the ruined fort in the middle of the meadows, is it? M-maybe it’s some other f-fort they don’t warn people about?”
As the creeping night deepened, the room around us grew steadily darker. I wasn’t feeling too thrilled with the sudden change in the day. I felt a deep, old phobia begin to claw at me, keeping only at bay thanks to the company of the princess. Keeping my ragged breathing paced, I forced myself to take in my surroundings, suddenly aware of just how unsettling they were.
The room appeared to have once been a soldier’s foyer—a gathering place for weary warriors to rest by the fire. But years of abandonment had reduced it to a shell of its former self. The hearth was choked with dust and ashes, its warmth long forgotten. Torn furniture lay scattered like a doll shredded by an angry rottweiler.
Paintings had been ripped from the walls, their tattered remains strewn across the floor. Moonlight filtered weakly through cracks in the structure, casting an eerie glow over the thick layer of dust that coated everything. The air was heavy with the stench of mold and decay, the stone walls oozing a grimy dampness that made my skin crawl.
For an abandoned building, this wasn’t entirely unexpected. Sure, it had seen better days, but maybe the occasional wild animal took shelter here. Nothing out of the ordinary—
Oh.
I glanced around, my stomach tightening.
The room was filled with skeletons. About a dozen sets of bones, scattered haphazardly across the floor.
“Ah. Well, that’s... unsettling,” I muttered, stone-faced. “I guess that’s what you were worried about?”
“Adrian...” Ichni’s voice was barely a whisper, her face twisted in terror. “This place is haunted. And at night...”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
I turned to her, hoping—praying—that she was exaggerating. But the look in her wide, frantic eyes and her chattering teeth confirmed the worst.
“These skeletons are going to—?” I began, the words hanging in the air like an invitation for disaster.
“There’s an evil ghost!” Ichni cut me off, her voice cracking. “It eats anyone who comes here at night!”
“Oh, great. That’s, what, 20% less terrifying?” I quipped, glancing around. “Besides, there’s no ghost here. Sorry, princess, no roommates tonight. Maybe it’s already passed on.”
“Awoooooooo~!”
The mournful wail echoed from above, drawing every hair on my body to full attention.
As if I was personally paging the red flags to come one by one, the sound reverberated from above, eerie and bone-chilling. “I... hunger...” it groaned, its voice warbling with unnatural modulation.
I couldn’t help but grimace. Did it have to sound like that? It’s a ghost, not some zombie gargling water from a mop bucket.
The room’s candle fixtures erupted into eerie blue flames, and the ghost floated into view, descending the staircase with slow, deliberate menace. My half-hearted mockery immediately died in my throat.
It had the ghastly form of a human soldier, its mangled body a haunting testament to a violent demise. In life, it might have been imposing; in death, it was pure nightmare fuel.
Blood glistened on its translucent body, dripping from wounds that looked horrifyingly fresh despite its spectral form. Its hands, warped and grotesque, ended in jagged claws—bones of its fingers were visibly sharpened to vicious tips.
The ghost drifted into the center of the foyer, its hollow eyes locking onto me. Pale yellow orbs glowed faintly in its sockets, radiating a lethal, unyielding intent.
Beside me, Ichni stammered incoherently, her voice cracking as she tried to form words. For once, I couldn’t blame her—I wasn’t sure what to say either.
“Buh... eh... ha...?” Ichni spluttered uselessly, her fear robbing her of coherence.
I, however, knew the ghost’s weakness—or at least, I hoped I did. There was no way I could win in a straight fight against something intangible, but I had one last trick up my holy sleeve.
Drawing on a reserve of bravery I didn’t know I had, I pushed myself to my feet. My heart pounded, but I forced a confident smile at the ghost.
It paused, its menacing glare faltering slightly as if unsure of what I was planning.
“Don’t worry, Princess,” I said, glancing at Ichni. “Remember what I told you I was?”
““Th-th-that you’re already half-dead and too stupid to be afraid to die?” Ichni squeaked, her voice climbing several octaves. She stared at me, wide-eyed, as if certain this was my final moment.
“Nah,” I said with a smug grin. “That I’m a Paladin—a holy knight blessed by the Four-Lights. And guess what? I’ve got over two thousand pages of holy scripture memorized, perfect for exorcising the undead.”
“Wuuuuuh~?” I wasn’t sure if the ghost or Ichni said that, but I placed my arms on my hips as I finally got the upper hand. It was about time that my previous life had paid off.
“Behold, foul creature of the rankest filth!” I bellowed, raising my hand in dramatic fashion. “Begone with your sorrows and be rid of your hatred, for I bring you the divine entirety of the Second Scripture of Penance—all two hundred pages!”
The ghost’s glowing eyes widened as I launched into the sacred incantation. My voice boomed with exaggerated authority, each word dripping with theatrical intensity.
Before I even reached the second verse, the ghost let out a tortured wail and began flinging broken furniture in every direction. Its clawed hands clutched its translucent head as if the words themselves were daggers.
“No! NOOOO~!” It bellowed in agony.
“ACK! What abhiña nonsense are these evil, boring platitudes?!” Ichni shrieked, fleeing to a nearby wall. She clawed at it like a panicked cat trying to escape a bathtub.
“Are you fu-rorem, Adrian?! You’re going to banish me too! Mata of murakkas, you’re going to kill us both!!”
My voice climbed from a low rumble to a booming roar of divine authority, each word growing louder and more obnoxious. The ghost writhed on the floor, howling like a toddler in the middle of a tantrum, furniture flying in every direction.
Meanwhile, Ichni was losing what little composure she had left. “Stop! STOP!” she screamed, desperation dripping from her voice. “I’ll do anything! I’ll give you royal status, riches, even—” her voice dropped to an incredulous mutter—“sexual favors if that’s what it takes! Just STOP!”
For twenty agonizing minutes, I continued my relentless sermon. Every sacred word was etched into my memory, a result of years of grueling Paladin training. I’d memorized entire volumes, down to the grammatical errors, through sheer repetition and suffering.
My brain had practically turned into a mental printer, spitting out scripture like a holy automaton. Cooking? Forget it—I couldn’t recite the recipe for an omelet to save my life. But if it was holy, obnoxious, and long-winded? It was locked in like a steel trap.
The ghost, completely overwhelmed by my barrage of sanctimonious drivel, writhed and howled in agony. Each passage drove it further and further away, its clawed hands swiping futilely as it tried—and failed—to silence me.
Ichni, realizing she wasn’t about to be obliterated but would instead suffer through the same torturous rite, slunk into the gauntlet. Her ghostly hands clamped over her ears, but not before shooting me one last venomous glare.
At last, the ghost could endure no more. With a bloodcurdling wail, it slithered away like a spectral serpent, retreating to the farthest room it could find.
I paused, gasping for air, my throat raw from the unending tirade.
When the ghost peeked cautiously through a crack in the wall, I raised my hand and began to rev up another hundred pages of scripture. It screeched like a banshee and vanished entirely.
The door to its refuge trembled violently before I heard the faint, unmistakable sound of a lock clicking into place.
Despite its incorporeal nature, the ghost had somehow managed to lock the door—desperate to ensure I couldn’t follow with more holy torment.
“I... I did it,” I croaked, my voice barely a whisper. “Four-Lights be praised. The ghost is... gone.”
Ichni, excruciatingly slow, came out of the gauntlet. She was practically married to me after all the promises she made trying to survive, but judging from her reproachful looks, I could expect an annulment to be coming very, very soon.
“I cannot believe,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain, “that you managed to scare a ghost out of its own lair by yelling at it.”
Her narrowed eyes stayed fixed on me, as if daring me to start up another sermon.
“I don’t know why that worked,” Ichni hissed, her tone a mix of bewilderment and fury. “I don’t even know what you thought it was supposed to do, but if you ever do that again, I swear I’ll rip your tongue out while you sleep.”
Her glare was razor-sharp, and for once, I didn’t doubt her sincerity.
I offered her a sheepish smile as I slid back into a sitting position, my body trembling from the sheer effort of it all.
“But did you die?” I asked, layering my exhaustion with a thin veneer of conceit.
“I’m already dead, you underfed ghoul,” she shot back, crossing her arms with a defiant glare. “Honestly, I wish I could’ve gone deaf instead of enduring that.”
I waved her off as I settled, earning me a cheeky huff in return.
“You know,” she huffed, rubbing her temples in frustration, “you come up with the most ridiculous ways to fight. Most j’ana just hit each other until one of them goes down. Simple. Effective. Logical.”
“Well, I’m not like most j’ana, then,” I replied with exaggerated pride. I assumed the word meant “people,” though her terminology was still mostly a mystery to me.
Still, I couldn’t shake the suspicion that whenever she called me something resembling the tambourine-like instrument, “maraca,” it was definitely an insult.
Regardless of her complaints, I’d won. Victory was mine.
As I leaned back against the cold stone wall, my eyes fluttered shut, and I prayed the ghost would leave us alone for good. Exhaustion tugged at me like a heavy blanket. Even that creeping fear of the dark took second place for the slumber I yearned for.
Ichni, muttering under her breath like a disgruntled mother tending to a belligerent child, cocooned me in her sticky restorative webs before retreating back into the gauntlet.
It had taken everything we had, but progress was finally within reach.
Tomorrow would undoubtedly bring new trials and dangers, but that was a problem for future Adrian.
For now, we could rest. Victorious.