A metal whip lashed forth and etched its mark into the stone wall. Slime was irritated. Slime was annoyed. Slime was vexed. The elf was troubling, and master too nice. Slime cut stone. Breaking things released its tension and was good training. Master was strong, but Slime needed to get stronger. Master needed strength. Master needed someone reliable. Master needed someone to lean on. Slime would be that. Not the zombie. Not the skeletons. Not the mage. Not the elf.

            Slime was getting there. Pace was slower than it wanted, however. If only it could eat more metal – that would speed things up. It had to survive off of mana. Master gave it plenty, but still doesn’t beat raw metal. One way or another, it would get stronger. It had too.

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            It contoured its body. Slime shaped it into spikes and swords and spears and slings. More mana meant more power, more abilities, and more intelligence. It didn’t notice it at first, but it was getting smarter. Slime was embarrassed to think back to how it was. It was an idiot when it was born. Slime was grateful Master didn’t throw it away. Slime would prove its usefulness. Soon it would get stronger. Soon it will evolve.

            But first, there was a snake in the shadows.