Slimantha blinked. Fresh sparks fell as Samuel’s sword met the jeweled suit of golden armor’s ax once more. The two combatants pressed against once another before pulling apart. Slimantha blinked again. Then she took a seat—took a seat on the flat-topped wooden chest Mitsy had hid in. The slime summoner reached into her left pants pocket and pulled out her partially eaten emergency cheese sandwich. She brought said sandwich up to her lips. She took a bite.
The jeweled suit of golden armor raised its golden doubled-handed ax. It swung the weapon downward. Its target, Samuel, pulled further back. The ax’s double-bladed head sliced through the fancy red rug, leaving a gash in the golden floor below. It then pivoted its ax up, blocking Samuel’s counter. Yet more sparks flew. The battle in the golden hall continued.
“For a suit of heavy armor,” Latril said, the swird woman’s golden sword eyes on the fight, “that thing is pretty fast.” She stood at the right of Mitsy’s chest—at the right of Slimantha. A certain cat woman, Black, stood at the other side of Slimantha and the chest. Said cat woman also watched the fight.
Slimantha glanced at Latril. Then her eyes returned to the fight playing out in front of her. Yet another shower of sparks came from weapon meeting weapon. “You really think that thing is fast?” Her eyes followed the jeweled suit of golden armor’s movements. “It doesn’t seem that fast to me?”
“Well”—Latril glanced at Slimantha—“not really.” Her gaze then turned to the jeweled suit of golden armor. She watched it maneuver about for a bit. “I mean it is kind of fast for a suit of heavy armor, but it isn’t that fast.”
“You know?” Rose said from behind Slimantha, Latril, and Black. The tall pink-haired plant woman stepped up to Black’s left. “Samuel looks cool and all, but we still have a mayor to save. Maybe someone should step in. That armor does seem to be holding its own.”
Slimantha glanced across Black to Rose. She set her partially eaten sandwich in her own lap and shrugged. “It will be fine,” she said. “That armor doesn’t look that tough.”
Now Black looked at Rose. “Relax,” the cat woman said. “Samuel has that divine-nectar buff. I’m sure he has”—the sound of shattering metal cut her off. Her gaze went back to the fight. An expletive slipped out from between her lips. Samuel now stood with a sword that was mostly just hilt. “I so jinxed us.”
“Hold my cheese sandwich,” Slimantha said. She got up from sitting on Mitsy’s chest and thrust her partially eaten cheese sandwich to Latril. “I have a hero to save.” Latril, somewhat confused, accepted the sandwich from the slime summoner.
Samuel pulled back, broken sword still in hand. He positioned the broken weapon in front of himself. His opponent, the jeweled suit of golden armor, raised its golden doubled-handed ax overhead. A sweatdrop rolled down Samuel’s right cheek. The hero took a shaky step back. The double-bladed ax swung down.
“No”—Slimantha caught the ax’s oncoming blade between her right hand’s thumb and pointer finger, having stepped in front of Samuel—“bisecting the hero.” She stared at the armor’s helmet, a cute little pout on the slime summoner’s face.
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The jeweled suit of golden armor stared back at the tan-skinned woman holding its ax by one of said ax’s blades. The armor then cocked its helmet to the side. A moment later, it began attempting to wrest its weapon free from the slime summoner.
“No”—Slimantha held fast, increasing her pressure on the captured blade—“bisecting the hero!” She narrowed her eyes, and then a sudden crack sounded out. Her eyes widened. Cracks snaked out from her grip on the ax’s blade. She sweatdropped as the jeweled suit of golden armor somehow managed to pale. “M-My bad.” She finally released the armor’s ax, and the armor quickly pulled back, it’s color returning to normal.
The armor—the jeweled suit of golden armor—turned its attention to its ax. It crouched down and pulled a white bandage roll out of itself. Frantically, it began bandaging up the head of its weapon.
“Well,” Samuel said, stepping to Slimantha’s left to get a better look at the armor, “I certainly wasn’t expecting that.” He watched as the armor continued bandaging up its ax’s head. “Who cares about their weapon that much?” He then sweatdropped as he noticed a certain slime summoner, Slimantha, staring at him.
“Well”—Slimantha crossed her arms—“that ax is totes important to the armor.” She puffed her cheeks out and then gestured to the armor still bandaging its ax. “That ax is clearly its friend. How would you feel if someone cracked one of your friends?” She leaned closer to Samuel, her brown eyes on his blue eyes. “Besides”—she pulled back—“isn’t there a magic sword that you care quite a bit about?”
Samuel blinked. “Oh, right. I’m still trying to find the magic sword the goddess had blessed me with.” He then glanced down at the broken sword he held in his right hand. “Well, I guess I don’t need this thing anymore.” He tossed the broken weapon to the side. Said weapon clattered to a stop against the wall.
The jeweled suit of golden armor finally finished bandaging up its ax’s head. The armor put the bandage roll away and stood back up. It readied its ax in front of itself. A loose end of the bandage hung down from its weapon’s head.
Slimantha turned back to the armor. “You know?” she said. “If you’re worried about your ax, you could just look the other way.” She smiled. “If we don’t fight, you don’t have to worry about your ax breaking. You could just pretend you didn’t see us.” She gave the armor another smile.
The jeweled suit of golden armor lowered its ax. Its gaze went from Slimantha, to Samuel, and then back to Slimantha. It then returned its ax to its back. Casually, it walked over to one of the golden torches lining the golden walls. Intensely, it focused upon said torch.
Slimantha glanced at Samuel and then at the rest of her group. “The armor,” she said, “says, ‘Such a lovely torch. I will surely not notice anyone passing behind me when I’m so enraptured by such a lovely torch.’” She then stepped up to Latril and put her hands out. “Can I have my cheese sandwich back now?”
“Sure,” Latril said, handing the partially eaten sandwich back to Slimantha.
“Thanks.” Slimantha accepted the sandwich back. She promptly returned it to her left pants pocket. She then glanced at Mitsy’s chest. “Anyone mind coaxing Mitsy out? We should probably get moving before the armor chooses violence again or something.”
“I’ll get her out,” Rose said. She gave Slimantha a smile before stepping up to the front of Mitsy’s chest. The plant woman knocked on the lid. “Uh, Mitsy, its time to go. You mind coming out?”
“Is it safe out there?” Mitsy’s voice came from within her chest—her flat-topped wooden chest.
“It’s safe.” Rose gave Mitsy a smile—not that the mimic could currently see the plant woman’s smile. “The armor is going to pretend it didn’t see us.”
“I’m coming out.” Mitsy opened her chest and climbed out. Soon, she stood beside Rose. “You’re nice.” A soft blush came to Mitsy’s cheeks. The mimic then closed her chest. She gave said chest’s lid a quick tap, and said chest vanished. “Anyway, we probably want the treasure room. I’ll take us there.” She took position at the head of the group and led them past the jeweled suit of golden armor.