Alphonse Biron turned back toward his old friend as the door shut behind a most unusual guest. This afternoon had been ... interesting. 

"So, how've ya been, Alf? Sorry to hear about this whole mess."

Biron rolled his neck, letting out a sigh, "I believe that's my line, Max. What nonsense are you getting caught up in?"

Maxwell Hendrickson gave out a hearty laugh, as the two men retreated to a more private location to have a discussion. Hendrickson waved away his entourage, a younger knight in his company.

"I'm surprised to see that young Miss here. What exactly happened?" asked the Knight-Captain.

"I've been looking for Healers to help 'Yana. None of the regular ones have been much help, so I posted with the Hall. Now I'm dealing with odd guests every day."

"I'm sorry for your plight. Still can hardly believe what happened. I'll be praying for Miss Aryana's recovery."

Hendrickson held his hand to his chest, making a hand motion and signal before giving it a small thump! Biron stood beside him with a sour frown on his face. The two continued walking, before arriving at a secluded room and taking a seat. It was dimly lit, with only a bit of illumination coming in from a set of blinds.

"Tell me, Max, did you find out what happened in that damn cave?"

A hint of venom was laced in his tone, as he gripped the wooden chair's armrest. His fingers turned white, and the wood creaked beneath the force.

"Are you asking me to reveal classified information of an ongoing investigation to a civilian, friend?"

Hendrickson chuckled derisively, before quickly following up, "Didn't find jack shit in that cave. Damn thing was cleaned out like you wouldn't believe. Corpses, Core, even most of the blood. Next move would be to send a specialized investigation team, but we couldn't make much sense of it. Just some guesses."

"And so, the Blades," Biron sighed.

"Ahh, the Blades. ... I'm not looking forward to it. If we're lucky, they won't cause too much of a scene. Might get one o' the less prickly Blades, even. Was only a newborn Core, location seemed bad. King might not care much. Already have Eigach and the military stations over east. Then again, you know politics better than I, friend."

Hendrickson leaned back into his chair, running a hand through his beard in thought.

Biron replied, "It depends on how you look at it, Max. Near the Capria border—would've been a good excuse to station more soldiers so close. Not much in the way of strategic resources out here, but if they could shape the Dungeon to grow properly, it might offset such a thing."

"S'that so? Well, you'd know better than me," Hendrickson laughed, "Damn Dungeons can rot for all I care."

It was quiet for a moment. Biron offered a glass of wine, which was quickly turned down.

"Despite how I look, I'm still on duty y'know," the man shrugged, patting his plain attire down.

"Heh, always a stickler," Biron waved, before returning to his seat.

As he sipped on a glass he'd procured for himself, the mood turned somber again.

"This whole thing gives me a bad feelin'. Alf, if something happens to me ... keep an eye on my old lady, will ya?"

Biron snorted, "Happens to you? I'll believe it when the day comes, stubborn bastard."

The two of them both had a good laugh, while Hendrickson assured the man he was at least half-serious.

"Still," Biron continued, "I can't believe Castella's gone. I guess we're getting up in years, too. But if that damn Mirrorback was in front of me now, I'd cut the thing to ribbons after what it did to 'Yana."

"Think you've still got it in ya?" Hendrickson joked.

"I think I'd manage," Biron quipped back, cocking a grin at the man, "From what 'Yana told me, the thing got the jump on Castella. It was a bad situation."

There was silence.

"Alf, she's almost certainly dead. The Mayor'll probably call it official after this report goes in. Funeral in a week, I'd wager. You goin'?"

"... Yes. We'll be there. It'll be nice to see some old faces. Seems like all I do anymore is sign papers or attend funerals though."

"You get used to it in our line of work, I think. Well, as much as a person can, anyway," Hendrickson huffed.

"Ah, that you do."

It was quiet for a moment, as the two men's minds turned inward. After a short while, Hendrickson coughed to break the silence.

"So, how'd that young Miss do earlier? That Amalia Alcott girl. Actually had my eye on her the other day, kinda surprised seein' her here."

"The Half? She was ... quite the child. I was apprehensive at first. Said she had a Mistress named Rozalin that instructed her, else I wouldn't have bothered. Brought two magic items with her, a white glove and strange cube. Seemed unusual. This 'Rozalin' isn't a familiar name, though."

"Hmm, I see. A glove, you said?" Hendrickson exclaimed, "That IS unusual. Surprised she showed it off in front of you. Pretty hard to enchant gloves and fabrics, ain't it? Probably worth quite a bit 'round here."

The knight leaned forward in his chair, twirling his mustache between his fingers. His brow was scrunched up.

"Last I saw her, she was a 'lil urchin beside the road. Wonder what happened to her since then? Those brats under my command were giving me a headache at the time. Girl had a nice fire in her eyes. She seemed like a good kid. Shame she ain't human, though seems like she got the light o' those beasts' blood."

Biron nodded in agreement, "Oh, seems so. Hard to notice if you aren't looking. Still, a beastkin child walking into my house? Haha! Not something I expected. Perhaps my mind's been on other things lately, but it caught me off-guard when I finally examined her closely."

"Your reaction was rather amusing," the knight scoffed, giving his knee a light pat. Biron shot him an exasperated stare.

"Perhaps. I'll remind you, I was busy considering her background and keeping an eye on her hands. Not risking anything with 'Yana. That girl did seem oddly equipped to be strolling in here. Don't suppose she's a spy or something? I've been considering keeping an eye on her. A child like that had to draw some attention in town."

"Couldn't hurt," Hendrickson shrugged, "I was planning on stopping by the Barracks later to try seein' how her application went. I'll let you know later. Doubt she's a spy, given that zeal and salute, but it can't hurt to do some diggin'. Seemed like she had some education. Good manners, too. Go figure."

The two joked for a while about 'manners' and how things had been growing up. Certainly, when one grew older, it seemed much easier to reminisce. 

After some time and idle chatter went by, Hendrickson was the one to break the setting.

"Think I should get working, Alf. Besides, if these old bones stay in this chair much longer, I think I'll grow roots!"

"Aye, I should attend to matters as well. Aryana is in the East Wing. I'll have an escort take you there."

As Hendrickson departed and Biron moved to his study, he took up the quill he'd become accustomed to the past decade or so. He tapped it on a piece of parchment for a long while, before dipping it in an inkwell.

On that parchment, he wrote two names on it while lazily rubbing a hand on his chin.

"Amalia and Rozalin, eh?"

He had been given much to think about this evening.

----------------------------------------

If one would eye the Biron manor this afternoon, they might notice several people leaving the grounds. Among them, a young woman—relatively unremarkable at first glance.

As Amalia Alcott was finally escorted away from the place, she turned a corner and felt the tension release from her body. This afternoon had far exceeded what she'd prepared for.

Amalia was fanning her face in an attempt to cool off when that familiar voice entered her head. This time, strange as it was for her to describe, it sounded a bit staticky. The only time that happened was when Rozalin was upset or excited, which hadn't been very often.

"Why didn't you take that man's offer?"

The tone was accusatory, which confused the young woman. Had she done something wrong? She briefly recalled if there had been anything of that nature throughout the visit, but quickly decided that things had gone very well.

"W-Well, didn't you say we needed to leave Berrios? I figured I wouldn't be able to accept right now."

Amalia nodded to herself. That was more or less her reasoning. After all, hadn't Rozalin herself said so? She hadn't been able to get the whole story at the time, but Rozalin's tone then seemed rather urgent.

"Is that ... is that all?"

The question struck Amalia as odd. All? She supposed not, but why?

"That's ... Well, I wanted to speak with you first. And I didn't want to leave and make you feel lonely."

That was more or less the full reasoning. Amalia felt it would be ungrateful to pack up and leave Rozalin, especially after she'd saved her life and done so much for her. Plus, she didn't want Rozalin to be all by herself.

Amalia got the feeling that if she left, Rozalin would be a little sad. And if the only one Rozalin could speak to disappeared, wouldn't that be a terrible thing? Even if Amalia really, reall~llly wanted to be a knight, her father would be disappointed in her if she'd chosen so poorly. That wasn't what the knight's code was about, you see.

"Lonely?" 

A period of silence, yet nothing further came. With a small shrug, Amalia considered the question answered. 

As the two made their way back towards the business district they'd become accustomed to, Amalia asked Rozalin what the plans were for today. All that came back was an unintelligible murmur. Apparently, today's agenda was being left up to Amalia. Unusual.

After wandering around for a short while, she decided to head back 'home' and see about cooking some lunch. This morning had mentally exhausted her, so she felt like sitting down for a while away from people. She was extremely tired and her head hurt a bit.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

As she was cooking food, Rozalin was still mostly unresponsive. Given they were now out in the wilderness, Amalia was secretly hoping Rozalin would stop clinging to her. It just wasn't something she could get used to. ...

When she mentally prodded Rozalin a bit more, she finally got a response. Albeit not as she'd expected. The reaction was sharp and unexpected.

"You should have accepted. Why—Why didn't you? Don't you want to be a knight more than anything? If you worked under either of those men, they could take care of and finance you far better than I could. You wouldn't have to live in this dirty cave and eat out in the wild all the time! You could stay with actual people instead of me."

This outburst caused Amalia to stutter, "I-I mean, it d-didn't seem right to leave you. I thought that you'd be happy if—"

"I am happy! But that's not the point! You need to look out for yourself more. This is your future at stake!"

"B-But I'm fine with how things are now. Besides, I can speak with mister Hendrickson another time about the matter."

"And what if he lies and changes his mind later?"

"Knights aren't supposed to lie. I don't think a man like mister Hendrickson would go back on his word."

—Uncertainty crept into the girl's voice. This verbal interrogation was worsening her headache and mood. She wasn't allowed time to dwell on that thought, however.

"People lie, Amalia! I lie. You shouldn't be so trusting. That only leads to disappointment and people using you and discarding you and, and-!"

The next words spoken by the girl were little more than a whisper.

"... you think I don't know that?"

Amalia sat there, gripping her pants tightly. Her fingers dug into her thighs and her lip curled a bit.

"Father always said, he always said to me, 'If you let evil and hate creep into your heart, you've already lost. Live generously and without regret.' I remember it. And I'd always—always, always, always tried ... tried to follow what he told me. When he got sick, when I was still little, I told myself I'd grow up faster. I'd study harder. I told myself I needed to be useful and not a burden on him. Even when I was at wit's end, I tried not to hate anyone. I tried to forgive them. I tried not to regret."

It was at this point, the girl's shoulders were trembling. There was a small, sarcastic laugh. Then, she spoke—each word was barely, just a tiny bit more hoarse than the last.

"I know you're not telling me the truth. I'm sure you've lied to me. And? So what? If that's the worst you do to me, it's still better than those people. You change the subject, don't answer my questions, and tell me your rescue was only because you thought I needed help? What a joke! Of course I have doubts! But what choice do I have?! Even if you're a lying 'monster', I still like you more than them!"

In a fit, the small pan the girl had been using to boil water was knocked to the ground. There was a dull clang! from the metal, before it grew quiet. Another laugh came from the girl's lips. This one, however, was a bit more ... peculiar.

"Nnn. Do you want to know a secret, Roz? When we first met and you told me you'd killed those two men? I was horrified. Disgusted. It went against everything I'd been taught about criminals and laws and morals. I was still trying to find worth in their lives. Even while I thought I'd be the next one eaten, I was still searching.

"But here's the thing, y'know? I realized something later on. Deep, deep down in my chest, a small part of me was happy. I was glad something happened to men like those. I didn't want to die. I didn't want a death like that. So I was relieved it'd been them and not me. ... Don't you get it? I've lost. I couldn't find forgiveness. I'm not even sure if I deserve to be a knight now. Father, he, he wouldn't be proud of me anymore."

—The weight in the air could smother a man. The only sounds heard for a long while were small sniffles, unsuccessfully stifled, along with eyes being wiped dry before quickly moistening again. 

And then came an awkward reply. It was as if the one saying the words was treading on glass.

"I'm sorry. I've said something very insensitive."

Rozalin continued, "Your Father would still be proud of you. You've done nothing wrong. I'm sure that he just wanted you to live well and become a strong person. He couldn't have meant it so literally. Even a saint has limits. People can only endure so much before they break."

The last word was said after an emphasized pause. Rozalin then slid down, off the girl, and into her lap. A small tendril was put on top one of the hands Amalia still had dug into her leg.

"I didn't mean to lash out at you. I didn't understand why someone would give up something so important to them for me. It isn't logical. I'm not accustomed to people doing things for me without expecting something in return. And it definitely isn't how I was taught to act. It reminded me of ... things. It made me frustrated. I apologize."

After a long pause and some more reassurance, Amalia spoke.

"So, what now?"

"Now ..." Rozalin hesitated, "First, let's talk for a bit. It seems I've been neglecting things worse than I imagined. If you're traveling with me, it's probably best for you to know my plans going forward."

It was at that point, the two of them spoke much that afternoon. Hours passed.

Rozalin had decided to take a chance with Amalia. She told the girl more about herself. She hinted about the fact she hadn't always been a Slime. She talked about another, more fantastic world than the young wolfkin girl could ever imagine. Amalia's head was still spinning from the tale.

Rozalin recounted her experiences since coming to this foreign land, and even the events leading up to their meeting. When Amalia thought about eating spiders and centipedes, her face turned green. When Amalia heard of the Mana Spring, her mouth was open in disbelief. When she heard the account of Rozalin's battle with the kobolds, she felt tense.

And then, the conversation ground to a crashing halt. It was near the end of the recollection Amalia felt a sense of wrongness overtake her. She interjected.

"Rozalin, you ... you killed that woman. That was the name of Aryana's, her teacher."

"Yes. Yes, I did," came the matter-of-fact reply.

"Don't you ... don't you feel anything?"

The response was drawn out slowly, "What exactly are you asking me, Amalia?"

There was no reply, other than the moving of lips without any words forming. Rozalin continued.

"Regret and guilt are not synonymous. I can feel guilty for doing something, but that won't stop me from completing tasks that must be done. My information was limited, I had no way to communicate with her, she could use magic to end me in an instant, and she stood between me and my goals. She'd already decimated those kobolds. I saw the ashes flake from their smouldering flesh firsthand, mind you. Let me also remind you that woman had been skewered through and was at death's doorstep already."

"Rozalin, that's ... that's still not right. Couldn't you have—I, I don't know, done something?" she protested.

"Hmph-! In hindsight? Perhaps. I could've risked my life to establish non-verbal communication or tried healing her and relied on goodwill. Naive, but possible. Perhaps there were more options. I didn't expect this world to have healing potions, for example. I've learned a lot since then. ... But no, I feel what I did was correct. My guilt is overshadowed by necessity and my gratefulness towards her."

While Amalia was struggling to process this way of thinking, Rozalin turned the conversation around.

"Tell me, do the people of this world feel guilt when they strike down monsters? Where is the line drawn?"

"Th-that's ... different, isn't it? Monsters are, well, they're evil and hurt people."

"Is it? Do some monsters not have feelings and hopes, too? ... No, it's the same thing, Amalia. Taking life so you may live. And people take from each other all the time, in all manner of forms. Time, money, words, thoughts—they take, and sometimes give. It is a small and selfish recompense, but I hope to heal that Aryana girl's eyesight. Everyone benefits, and perhaps it will help me rest easier.

"But that is beside that point. I am not telling you to take people's lives or that it isn't evil or wrong. I am saying that to take from someone, you must be acutely aware of the consequences. Even with those two men I killed, I am sure there will be unseen repercussions, despite them being societal waste and very deserving."

Amalia bent down, clutching her head at the words that were flowing into her head. She was starting to feel sick, her thoughts turning frantic. She'd been wrestling with the moral aftermath of those two bandits and it bothered her, but learning an innocent woman had died? It was a different magnitude.

"This is all wrong. I—... Rozalin, you can't, I can't follow someone who murders people like that. I can't, I can't do that."

A pause, "What would you have me do, then?"

"I don't know! Even if I manage to ignore everything you've done in the past, I can't ignore people dying in front of me!"

Amalia was racking her brain, before replying in a whisper, "Promise me. Promise you won't kill anyone anymore."

There was a small snort, then a chuckle over the Link, before Rozalin responded.

"Promise? Amalia, I may be a casual liar, but I take my promises very seriously. I hate people who break promises. So I will not promise I won't kill 'anyone, anymore, ever again'. This world is obviously far too violent and crude for such a thing. At most, I will promise that as long as it doesn't endanger you or my life, I will do my utmost to not kill anyone. If you want me to promise that, then you must promise me something in return."

The tone in Rozalin's voice turned almost sinister at the end. This caused a shiver to run up Amalia's spine, making her tail twitch. She stopped clutching her head, mind turning lucid.

"W-What?" she asked.

"It's simple. Promise that you'll stay with me no matter what. You've said before, when you turn 16 you are an official citizen of Brita or whatever, yes? Until then, promise to stay with me. If you do so, I will take care of and provide for you to the best of my abilities. I promise that I won't kill anyone according to the aforementioned conditions."

For some reason, Amalia shuddered at what she was told. If written out, this promise—this 'contract'—was as sweet as honey. There were nearly no disadvantages and Amalia would get what she wanted, along with company and a provider. But she would have to stay with Rozalin, and Amalia wasn't sure what to think of her anymore. There were too many conflicting emotions.

"Do you accept? Choose carefully and think it over. We've time."

For whatever reason, Amalia had trouble forming words of disagreement. Despite the friendly advice, she did not hesitate long. She choked out a response, almost as if gently coerced by some unseen force.

"I ... I accept. I promise you that."

It was at this point that Rozalin was smiling internally. Relief flooded the woman's pink, squishy form.

"Then I promise you as well. Remember something, Amalia. The choices we make in life are generally due to necessity or habit. I've no habit of killing, so it boils down to necessity. I've thought long and hard about the subject and come up with an answer. Simply put, it becomes much easier to not kill your enemies if they are vastly weaker and pose no threat to you."

Amalia did not quite follow this line of thinking, prompting her to ask what her counterpart was implying.

"That's both easy and difficult. We just need to become strong enough that no one would dare threaten us. I suggest we move east to this other Dungeon. There will be plenty of monsters to slay there!"

While Rozalin began chuckling and shaking in excitement atop Amalia's lap, the girl herself couldn't help but fear for her life all over again. There was a faint inkling formed in her mind that perhaps ... it wasn't such a good idea to promise after all.

She felt light headed. Meanwhile, Rozalin was in her own little world, rattling off ideas.

"—can't wait to see what kind of abilities I can get from them, or how they'll taste, and—"

No, the young wolfkin girl was now on the verge of tears when she thought about her future prospects. She'd promised, so she couldn't go back on her word. It would be unjust. Yet thinking about being dragged across the countryside to fight monsters in a Dungeon didn't sit well with her, despite Rozalin's reassurances of safety. With just the two of them, it sounded like suicide.

"—to make money. Though I probably shouldn't eat the Dungeon Core this time. Wish I'd known that was illegal sooner. Perhaps I can—"

Some of the words clicked! inside Amalia's head, before the gears began turning again and pulling her back to reality.

"Wait a second," she muttered, before squeaking loudly, "You what!?"

Rozalin was startled and stopped her light bouncing for a moment, before directing her attention upward.

"Oh right, I didn't get to that part of the story yet. I briefly mentioned those 'Evolution Conditions' to you, but that was one of them. Destroy a Core. When I was in that Dungeon, the Core tried to enslave my mind, so I ate it. The flavor wasn't great, so I really don't recommend trying them."

Halfway through, Amalia began internally freaking out.

"R-R-Rozalin! Y-You can't eat Dungeon Cores! That's incredibly, very illegal!"

Had the little Slime still eyes, she would be rolling them right now.

"Yes, I know that now. How was I supposed to know it beforehand!? And ignorance of the law doesn't absolve you of guilt. This is unfair! I doubt they'd even give me a proper trial. I'm honestly outraged. It's a good thing there were no eyewitnesses."

"Th-then that means the one they're looking for is—..."

The girl's eyes were wide as saucers.

"W-Wah-What are we gonna do!? Why did you tell me this!?" Amalia cried, tugging on her own hair and grasping her ears.

"I thought you wanted me to stop lying to you?" came a bemused reply, "Ahh~ It feels good to finally tell the truth. I've been so sick of worrying by myself. It's a good thing knights don't lie, and that you promised you'd stay with me. We can share life's burdens together now!"

While Amalia stared on in disbelief, Rozalin let out a hearty laugh, "It's fine! I'll do my best to take good care of you and be an upstanding Slime from now on. I've given you my word."

The tone was jovial on the surface, but Amalia was in nowhere near the mood for joking.

"Don't worry so much. It'd be strange if you pulled all your hair out and went bald at your age. I promised to take care of you, so I want you to be in good health. I hope we can get along well from here on. We've much to accomplish! Let's set out tomorrow. I've many plans and ideas forming. First, let's go over the budget and traveling—"

With a horrified expression etched onto her face, Amalia realized she'd become an accessory to treason. Treason.

Her morals were in disarray. She wanted to cry again. Even if she turned to the authorities, given her status, she doubted her life wouldn't automatically be forfeit. Something told her Rozalin had accounted for this. She felt like Rozalin was now positively beaming at her.

Gravity took hold as the slender wolfkin fell backward onto the grass, howling out in disbelief.

"Nooo waaAAAaayy!!!"

It seemed a long and arduous journey was ahead of her. And on that day, Amalia took her first steps toward realizing an important lesson.

Lies aren't so bad at times.