56. A Festival of Blood and Confusion
Slimes crammed their way through the portal, funneling into the Slums in a gelatinous frenzy. I gnashed my teeth, pushing down the anxiety at the thought of leaving my friends and family to defend the sprawling underground complex without me. Thwain had a point, though. He was far better at dealing with large targets than I was. Just another log on the bonfire of frustration inside of me. Realistically, I knew that I was probably the best person for the job of plugging up a portal and not letting any slimes through. Still, it didn’t stop me from feeling that I was being sent away while the big guns dealt with the real problems.
I channeled my frustration to eke out every ounce of speed I could out of Slimey as the portal grew larger in my vision. We skidded to a stop on the dark stone surrounding the portal archway, instantly cutting off the swirling drain of slimes into the Slums. Well, through this portal, at least. Slimes threw themselves at Slimey, disintegrating almost instantly as my summon gleefully burbled and absorbed their lime green bodies into his own darker green gelatinous figure.
A flashing in the corner of my vision drew my attention as I stood inside of Slimey, impatiently trying to form a plan. I couldn’t sit like a cork in a bottle all day, after all. My eye flicked to the top left, where a semi-translucent number quickly rose.
131FP, 132FP, 133FP… 152FP, 153FP, 154FP… 176FP, 177FP, 178FP…
As I focused on the numbers, a notification bloomed in my vision.
Festival shop locked. Would you like to purchase access to Floor 1's Festival shop for 100 Festival points (FP)?
I glanced back to what I assumed were my quickly rising Festival Points, noting that I had accumulated over 200FP, and readily assented to the prompt’s question. As I did, my FP dipped by a hundred and a new window popped up.
Festival shop unlocked.
Quick purchase options :
Food : poor quality. 1FP
Water : poor quality. 1FP
Clothing : poor quality. 2FP
Small mundane item : poor quality. 5 FP
Mundane weapon : poor quality. 20 FP
Large mundane item : poor quality. 30FP
Mundane armor : poor quality. 30 FP
??????????? 200 FP
Categories :
Agriculture and Husbandry
Armor
Weapons
Misc
Furnishing and Lodgings
Transport
Executive functions
Next Page…
I was bombarded with pages upon pages of purchase options, though most options were hidden. As I scrolled through, Mundane weapon - good quality. 200 FP appeared where there used to only be question marks. I experimented, purchasing a poor quality mundane weapon. Contrary to my expectations, a second prompt did not appear. No clarifications or specifications were asked for. A ratty slingshot with a seemingly rotten rubber band phased into existence in my left hand before being devoured by Slimey.
I grumbled and rose until my entire torso was sticking up and out of Slimey’s head. I tried again, purchasing a poor quality mundane weapon for 5FP. This time, a small, dull, kitchen knife appeared in my hand. I checked the weapon, but the blade snapped from its hilt as I bent it a little too hard. I shrugged and fed both pieces to my summon, the wasted points already more than earned once more.
I ordered Slimey to rush forwards, spreading out to cover as much area as possible. My hunch was confirmed as my FP counter soared upwards, slimes dying by the hundreds, fueling my ever-increasing bank balance. I smiled so wide that my face hurt. There probably weren’t many on Floor 1 that could match the sheer speed of my slime farming. I doubled back, careful not to let any slimes enter the Slums or to stay too near the portal. I didn’t want to accidentally kill anyone phasing into the floor, or surprise someone in the Slums by accidentally smacking the portal’s energy and appearing on the floor below.
While I debated what to do, I tested the Festival shop a few more times, buying poor, good and excellent quality food to compare what exactly each meant. The poor quality food was definitely worthy of it’s 1FP cost. A clump of thick gruel appeared in my hand, no bowl or utensils included. I nibbled at the sphere of sustenance just enough to confirm how bland it was before plunging my hand into Slimey’s deep cleaning service.
The good quality food was far more comparatively expensive at 50FP per portion, but was equally far more appetizing. A large bunch of grapes still on the vine appeared in my hand, almost toppling to its doom as the cluster threatened to overbalance. I threw a grape in my mouth, my eyes shooting wide open. Refreshing juice flooded my mouth as the fruit popped and crunched satisfyingly between my teeth. I demolished half of the grapes within moments as I went semi feral for the deliciously sweet dark red fruit. I tossed the remaining grapes through the portal, hopefully signaling whoever was on the other side that it was safe-ish to come scope out Floor 1.
The excellent quality food was a religious experience. The 250FP cost was easily forgotten as a beautifully marbled steak tore apart at the slightest pressure from my tongue, putting up absolutely no resistance to my teeth. I slurped, licking salty juice from my wrist to my fingertips as I ate everything but the bone and tried to identify the myriad of spices and herbs sending shivers down my spine. I barely managed to stop myself from purchasing another round of food while Slimey diligently cleaned me off.
The sound of a man clearing his throat shook me out of my steak-filled daydream. I spun and greeted the new arrival, my startled voice coming out a little louder than intended.
“Oh hey, there!” My hand shlucked noisily as I ripped it from Slimey’s greedy scrubbing. The slightly disgusted face of a ragged man stared back at me. He lowered his spear and passed a hand through his shoulder-length black hair, adding even more blood and dirt to it and smearing his forehead muddy red in the process. He schooled his expression and nodded at me seriously.
“Thanks for the help. Can you hold them back for a few more minutes?” He asked, leaning heavily on his spear while prodding gently at a patch of burnt skin on his left leg.
I shrugged. “I can hold the line for a bit, yeah.” Honestly, I could probably block off the portal indefinitely, seeing as I could order food from the Tower’s Festival shop and Slimey was doing all of the work. I’d just have to… Excitedly, I opened the Festival shop and scrolled through, navigating the categories.
“Agriculture… No… Armor… No… Skills… That’s really cool, but not what I’m… Aha! Furnishing and Lodgings.” I missed any reply from the spearman as I excitedly spent another few hundred points. It really didn’t feel like much of a waste, seeing as it took less than a minute to recover what I had spent. When the portal flashed again, the ten or so people, who I soon found out were basically a construction crew from the Slums, found me comfortably lounging on a hideously-orange plush couch and testing out the different comfort levels of various pillows. Slimey, for his part, was spread thin enough to form a large oval starting from one end of the portal archway, extending a dozen or so feet out, then wrapping around and connecting on the other side of the portal. I greedily watched my FPs climb while slimes did their utmost to reach me, but ended up being swallowed by Slimey’s impenetrable wall.
I scootched my couch out of the way twice while the group from the Slums nervously erected fortifications around the portal. One of the two women in the group stabbed what looked like fence posts into the ground before activating a skill that made them expand to impressive proportions. The originally 4-foot poles easily quadrupled in size, reaching almost twenty feet in height. Unsurprisingly, she was unable to pierce the dark stone ring around the portal, having to resort to placing her fence posts on the edges, where the stone ended and lush grass began.
Another member of the group solved that issue, being able to mold the wood as if it were putty. He easily bent and stretched the pieces on the sides so that they jutted backwards to the portal, cutting the slimes off as well as building a makeshift set of stairs up one side and sharp spikes down the other. It didn’t look nearly as effective as Pyro and Josh’s wombo combo building strategy, but it would work for a bit.
While half of the group worked on raising fortifications, the other half worked on digging a trench. One particularly noteworthy member summoned a twenty-foot tall ghostly sword that stabbed into the ground, parting the dirt seemingly without resistance. More mundane shovels were used when that particular member almost fainted from repeated skill usage. Then, they coated spikes with various poisons and carefully lowered conjured vials of acid into the trench, though I was uncertain of the usefulness of such tactics. The first few waves of slimes would surely die to the acid and the poisons, but they’d quickly wear away the defenses and then they’d be back to invading the Slums. I made a mental note to get Pyro to come fix the situation once he could.
To my surprise, the group asked me to let the slimes through once they had set up a perimeter. Those that had already spent all of their energy crashed next to the portal while those that were still full or in fighting shape manned the top of the newly constructed walls. Shrugging, I stored my growing furniture collection in my slime of holding and slowly retracted his protection, looping circles close by, but letting slimes attack the walls at will. The protections held quite well, to my surprise. An alchemist of sorts threw an assortment of conjured vials from atop the walls, causing explosions, freezing slimes or spreading a toxic fog that almost instantly vaporized any slime that entered it. Anytime the slimes started climbing too high, a section of the wall glowed like molten metal and shot out deadly spikes, decimating the accumulated slimes, before returning to its normal dull and lifeless brown. Every time that I thought I’d need to step in, they unleashed a skill that either temporarily cleared the area of slimes or rebuilt the defenses.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Perched on my noble steed, I crept farther and farther away, clearing huge swaths of slimes, my confidence in the makeshift barricade growing. There were enough defenders that, once the initially drained members were back in fighting shape, they all took turns using, slinging spells and resting. Sure, exhaustion would eventually set in, but by then they’d no doubt have reinforcements from the Slums.
I sipped the last of a refreshing neon pink drink out of a tall glass, savoring the tanginess and trying to guess the flavors. Cubes of ice sloshed about as I tried catching tiny bits of pulped fruit, but Slimey ended up catching most of it as he whipped over and around hills at breakneck speed. Finally finished with my drink, I threw the plastic container into the sea of slimes and directed my summon to lift me over and onto the defensive walls. I nodded at the defenders, who nodded seriously back at me, before making my way down to the portal. Now that I knew that they had this portal locked down, I figured I should probably go plug any other holes leaking slimes into the Slums.
I was expecting a mess on the other side of the portal. What I found was much worse. The building erected by the Guild had been, well, eaten. It had been devoured by a tidal wave of slimes, leaving nothing but churned dirt and scorch marks. Not even the fancy front desk had been spared by the ravenous monsters. The old view of the city square greeted me, along with its dark shadows, sketchy occupants and cobblestone offshoots. My eyes lingered on the fountain at its center for a moment, clear water shooting out of a stone fish’s mouth and into the basin below. The sound of burbling water tickled my senses before a gruff voice grabbed my attention.
“Progress report.” It wasn’t a question. I turned my head and stared up into the no-nonsense eyes of a woman in heavy metal armor. She held a full plate helmet under one arm, her long brown hair tumbling down, waving slightly in the breeze. I didn’t see any form of distinguishing marks or emblems on her gear to mark her affiliation with any member organizations of the Guild or any other gangs, but I couldn’t rule out the possibility. She slammed the butt of her spear against the ground.
“I said report,” she growled. I jumped and hurried to respond.
“It’s- it’s… Uh, the walls are up and holding. They’ll probably need a break eventually, but they’ll hold the line for a while.” I mustered a weak smile, but she ignored me completely after I had babbled out what I knew.
“B-team, go relieve the defenders. C-team, stay here just in case. The rest of you, head to the irrigation canal on the East side and help hold the line.” She barked orders like a pro, ordering people about as if she owned the place. I must admit, I was pretty impressed when everyone obeyed instantly and followed her instructions calmly but quickly. Once everyone had set off, she turned back to me and eyed me skeptically.
“Are you going back to Floor 1 or do you want to assist with the defense? I won’t lie, we could use an extra pair of hands, even if they’re shaky, sweating and green.” Her gaze was stony, and her expression had me feeling inadequate. I glanced down at my decidedly not shaking hands, but wiped them on my pants nonetheless before responding.
“I’m a summoner. Slimes are my specialty. I can hold a portal on my own, no problem. Just point me in the right direction.” I swallowed, trying to look as confident as I felt. I could do this. I was essentially useless in the Church raid, but in the Slums against slimes, I may as well be a god.
The woman nodded curtly at my declaration. “Noted. Slimes are spilling out from every sewer grate across the city. If you say you can handle it, I’ll believe you. Just don’t expect any reinforcements. We’re stretched far too thin as it is, and the Festival shop is just making things worse.”
I cocked my head to the side, my brows furrowing. “Worse?” I asked. I was already thoroughly enjoying the items in the Festival shop. Even if points were harder to obtain for other people, I couldn’t see how the incentive would hinder anyone’s efforts. However, when I looked at my FP total, I sucked in a shocked breath. I had a grand total of 0 FP.
The woman scoffed. “Much worse. Seems like everyone with a knife is willing to use it to stab their neighbors in the back to get their points. We lost half of our squads to infighting and assassinations. What’s left barely dares show any sign of hesitation, scared that they’ll be singled out and taken out.”
I let out a low whistle. If we could take other people’s points… I shook the thought away as soon as it came. The Festival was the wakeup call that the Slums needed, there was no point in making the situation worse. Plug the slime holes, regroup, then mobilize the survivors. That would be the best way to move forward. Well, at least I thought so.
With a nod of thanks, I resummoned Slimey, who had been unsummoned along with Sunder when I moved floors, then found the nearest sewer grate and crammed in. It wasn’t hard. We just followed the sounds of squishing and squelching until we found a grate where slimes fountained out and onto the street.
Slimey temporarily shrank down, compressing his bulk to squeeze his way down into the sewers. Once we were both firmly inside the gross tunnel network, we stood still for a moment, trying to determine which direction the majority of the slimes were coming from. It might have been my imagination, but it seemed like there might be a few more coming from the left side, so Slimey expanded to his full size, completely filling the tunnel, and rushed down to our left until we came to an intersection. Again, we paused, trying to gauge the flow of slimes before choosing the direction that seemed the most populated.
I was happy to see that my FPs were climbing once again. When I focused on them, however, a familiar prompt appeared.
Festival shop locked. Would you like to purchase access to Floor 0's Festival shop for 100 Festival points (FP)?
I mumbled and grumbled, but ultimately paid the fee to unlock the shop. Again. Curiously, the options seemed more limited on Floor 0, primarily centering around crafting material and day to day items. As my FPs rose, two categories in particular drew my attention.
Categories :
Food and Drink
Agriculture and Husbandry
Weapons and Armor
Misc
Transport
Executive Functions
Social
Executive Functions and Social. I selected the categories one by one. Each only had a single thing for sale, but they were both filled with question marks and indicated a cost out of my price range. The mystery option in Executive Functions went for a whopping 50k FP, while the hidden option in the Social category went for 5k. I glanced at my FP: 247 and climbing.
I busied myself with theorizing what could be for sale in each category while Slimey navigated the sewers, seeking the origin of the slime monsters. I hoped for a way to contact my allies, first and foremost. As for the Executive Functions category, I couldn’t even begin to guess. It took nearly twenty minutes to arrive at our destination, half of which were spent standing still, trying to determine where most of the slimes were coming from. We were so far into the sewers that I wasn’t super confident in my ability to return to the surface without getting lost. I shrugged and directed Slimey to plug the only entrance to the large cavern, where a portal to the first floor hid.
Tiny green goops dutifully marched out of the portal and into Slimey’s maw while I browsed the Festival shop some more. Unwilling to spend too much of my time in the Slums, I set aside the idea of saving up points to peek at the more expensive purchases and just spent my points on anything that looked useful, comfy or fun. Three hats, four mismatched socks, a dagger, a longsword and a hoe later, I decided I needed a way to plug, at least temporarily, the portal room, closing it off from the rest of the Slums. I browsed the shop until I found something promising.
Mundane defenses - poor quality. 400 FP.
Mundane defenses - good quality. 800 FP.
?????????????????????????? 1600 FP.
I debated the merits of each option, but ultimately decided on waiting to see what the 1600 FP option was. I was pretty sure the poor quality defenses would be a waste of time, even against slimes, because of their acidic properties. Anything marked as poor quality by the shop was bound to break down easily. The good quality defenses, however, were tempting. Without knowing how much space they’d cover, or how long they’d last, though, I still wanted to wait to at least see what the next most expensive option was. Ideally, I didn’t want to have to come back down in these sewers again, so whatever I put down had to hold for a while.
Slimey and I raced backwards through tunnels, then back to the portal several times, trying to clear the sewers of as many slimes as possible while I waited for my FPs to reach 1600. Once I had accumulated enough FPs, I was glad I had waited.
Runic defenses - poor quality. 1600 FP
I instantly confirmed my purchase after ensuring that Slimey was inside the portal room and out of the way. I had heard rumors of runic inscriptions, but had never actually seen any in person. Runes weren’t necessarily rare, but they were used by scholars and the rich, both of whom I had never had the need or the means to associate with. Runes were, apparently, a large field of study at the Academy, with many students and professors constantly trying different combinations of runes and patterns to discover new or more efficient results.
My Festival points drained away to almost zero as a wide metallic disk materialized on the ground in front of me. The edges of the gray disk were ringed with runic symbols, each of which were encased in geometric patterns and linked together in the center of the plate-like object.
A single rectangle was unadorned with runes, but instead had the slight imprint of a hand etched into its surface. I leaned down and pressed my hand against the image. My mana was rather gently sucked out of my body, through my hand and into the disk. As it filled with my mana, the disk’s runes started glowing a soft blue, starting on the left and gradually creeping clockwise along the edge. Once it reached what I assumed was half capacity, an electric field started rising from the disk, slowly filling the cave’s entrance.
I pushed, and my mana flowed faster, soon filling the disk completely. Curious, I hopped onto Slimey and had him climb the cavern walls to let some slimes through. The little monsters stormed out of the portal and crashed into the barrier, almost instantly zapped into oblivion. The electric field shrank about a quarter of its size before the disk started sucking in the multicolored motes of light that bloomed from each dying slime. The barrier almost grew back to its initial size before shrinking back down to three quarters of its original size, then growing back again in painfully slow fluctuations.
I cringed slightly, seeing the barrier barely keep itself running. The steady stream of slimes both ensured that it was constantly on the brink of collapse, yet perpetually refueling itself. If the slimes had the brainpower, they’d just wait for reinforcements and charge all at once. Fortunately, slimes didn’t seem to have brains. They ran on pure instinct. Maybe on mana, as well. Ok, and maybe on hunger. Was hunger an instinct? I ordered two more meals from the shop.
When only one boiled potato spawned, I checked my FP total, frowning. I hadn’t checked my total before buying since food was relatively cheap and Slimey had been sweeping through slimes so fast that I had already gotten used to being able to afford any of the cheap options on a whim. Curiously, I checked my points total and discovered that I only had two FPs left, and they weren’t rising. I glanced between the dying slimes and my unmoving points.
“Maaaah, fuck you, Tower,” I grouched. Fine. I didn’t like you anyway. Now that my Slum-protector-5000 was set up, I didn’t need to spend more time in the Slums. I’d test more FP farming methods on Floor 1, where I spent most of my time, either way. Before that, though, it was good ol’ boss slime stompin’ time.