My name is Valduin Denpa'thìlsa Qaédrys—feared slayer of menfolk; purveyor of charm; adventurer of a thousand ley; acolyte to the Third Sage of the South Rime-Oak Treefort.
Of course, I have countless other titles, but foremost I consider myself a free spirit and devout follower of the Great Mother.
It would seem I've also a few other titles to add to my burgeoning list. 'Twere it only so simple to make 'narrow escaper of death' sound glamorous and less quaint.
Sadly, not even one such as I is that talented. I shall have to reflect on such matters another time.
As it stands, I remain in an awkward position. While it appears my aggressors have been dutifully disposed of, my current situation is still somewhat precarious. While I may put on a brave face, it is undeniably a smidge unsettling having nearly experienced my briar being scraped out by a band of hume-vermin.
'Out of the furnace and into the skillet,' as my dear mother oft quipped.
'Twould seem I've landed myself in the company of most peculiar sorts, dare I say! A monster, some fair menfolk, and a beast-hume? Oh my! Certainly not a scenario I anticipated upon leaving the glades.
I must remain positive! At least the beast-hume is endearing. She seems rather receptive to my tongue, so I suppose it only fair that I entertain the lass. Since I lack material goods currently, custom dictates I trade for knowledge, after all.
A shame though, as I am not quite sure what is going on with that monster. It's not often you sight ones that do not lash out at intelligent races on sight. A pet? I'd been told that if a Slime was docile, it was both stupid and trained. But is that the case? The notion seems overwhelmingly dubious.
What's more, a Slime with healing magic? Something about that strikes my very being as offensive. Monsters consorting with the holy magic of the Great Mother? Pah!
It appears due to my momentary lapse in concentration, the beast-hume girl is concerned with my decrease in vocality. I noticed her back straighten and a ponderous mood set upon her features. Thus, I resume with vigor—sharing as much of my life experience as possible with the unfortunate thing.
Yes, quite unfortunate. It is a great pity that the races of man and beast are so short-lived. Though the majority are rabble and no significant loss, there are a few whose days are far too short. I am reminded of some unfortunate memories. By the time this beautiful, fuzzy flower before me blossoms into a full-fledged woman, she'll begin to wither away not long after.
Is it perhaps a beauty enhanced by its ephemerality? Or something else entirely? Alas! Such woe. I shall ruminate upon it another night.
... Hopefully, the night of which I speak isn't surrounded by dirt like some sort of dawi mud-digger. Bearded, vulturous fools.
As with all things, the fuzzy child and my own discourse met with an end. The peculiar Slime hath returned, looking a mite bit larger than before. Curious.
I examined the Slime with haste—studying its hideous, monstrous, vulgar, and deceptively springy features. I've little idea how something's touch can be both so revolting and soothing simultaneously. Another mystery.
Your secrets shall be revealed to me before long, you little beast. Think not that I've been deceived by your 'kindness'! The violations of my most precious area shall not go unabated. Revenge for my ears shall be had! ... Despite the meritorious deeds you have inflicted within my maw. Ahem.
I squinted at the two, trying to no avail to make out this 'telepathy' thing they are using to communicate. It was explained to me in such simple terms that I've trouble believing it. What's more, despite the Slime's peony-hued exterior, is it truly female? I'd no idea that Slimes could possess sexes, to be quite forthright. Another dubious peculiarity.
Moments pass, as I sit in silence. No Mana signatures appear present in the air, as this 'telepathy' continues to elude me.
It would seem to be quite late at night, judging by what little information I've gleaned. My sense of time has been somewhat stretched, due to recent events.
"Val, I'm going to sleep now. We'll prepare in the morning, then I need to escort these people to town."
The girl motioned toward the sleeping folk.
"Oh! Yes, as you wish, young one. I shall resume discussions with you whence you stir next."
Despite the girl named Amalia's admittedly brief explanation of her relationship with this Slime, I'm still baffled. What's more, I'm increasingly skeptical that such a girl and her assumed pet could take down so many men. It positively boggles the mind, but I cannae deny the lack of vermin present since their arrival. The earlier commotion that had interrupted my torture session must be related to these two.
Rage begins to bubble up within me when I recall what I'd endured. The sensation of my Mana boiling permeates my veins, requiring me to push the torrent back down. I'd heard stories of the menfolk before and how some of them coveted our briars, yet I'd never given it serious deliberation hitherto.
I swallowed my grievances, attempting to put them in the past. 'Twould be a good learning experience, as the lands of man are far different than I'd anticipated before setting out upon my pilgrimage. The tales have done it no justice.
There isn't much that's able to sour my mood, yet the ghost of the past several days shall surely remain with me for some time to come. If only I'd done things differently. If I'd at least been the one to enact revenge, perhaps it might have quelled the burning in my chest.
I eye the Slime that Amalia calls 'Rozalin.' All but one of the candles have been snuffed out, yet I remain able to survey the cave walls within this low light. 'Tis enough.
A mother and her two children are huddled up on a straw and cloth cot. The other three women sleep alone, yet near each other. The beast-hume lass is a short distance away, and I find myself in a similar sleep arrangement. The bedding is nothing compared to home, but I shan't complain. I've rested upon worse.
As I lay down and pondered the future of my journey, the humes had long drifted to sleep. I nearly chuckled to myself at how off-guard they were being. True, the door was barricaded, but what if we found ourselves besieged? Unlike elves, menfolk are normally disproportionately concerned with matters of their life and death, so their lax behavior struck me as peculiar.
Either way, it mattered not to me. If any hume-vermin were to seek my life still, so be it. I'll strike as many down with me as I can. But I'd sooner copulate with an ogre than tolerate those prior desecrations henceforth. I will not be taken alive again. Hmph!
And so I had little to do beside reflect on our nighttime security. The fair menfolk slept, and even the fuzzy lass dozed off. It was quite amusing, as she lay upon her cot while hugging the Slime like some sort of large, undesirable child's toy. Or perhaps a misshapen pillow?
Electricity abruptly shot up my back. My ears twitched, as a foreign sensation cocooned upon my figure.
Earlier, something similar had happened. That Slime appeared to have used some sort of magic to blanket the area. It had clung ever-so-lightly upon my skin prior, and I thought it a bit curious at most. While I was also disoriented at the time and gave it little thought, I don't recall feeling magic quite like that before. Yet now, amid of this dimly lit cave, my eyes shot toward that very same Slime.
—It was staring right at me.
That notion began rumbling within my skull like thunder. Air caught within my chest, as my breathing ceased. In hindsight, I'm not sure why that thought appeared within my mind. The creature had not eyes to see, so how could it be gazing upon me?
Small beads of sweat formed upon my forehead and such. I instinctively brought forth my Mana to push away the invading force against my flesh. Claws and spears, frozen and frigid, spread out from that thing like spikes.
My eyes scanned around the room. That's when I realized they were directed at every single being within this room, along with a generous amount toward the room's entrance.
A single thought formed, 'Dangerous.'
It was simple, yet deep and profound. I'd half-considered the beast-hume girl as joking or having outside help, all while awaiting those vermin's return. Or perhaps some human warriors would arrive on their gallant steeds, as they say.
But this? I didn't account for such a thing. While she slept, that monster watched. And now I understood.
The fools around me continued to doze and snore, unaware of the threat in their midst. Their lack of Mana sensitivity was a mortal offense and great disaster. That Slime was fully prepared to launch a magical salvo in a breath's notice, yet they remained ignorant.
Lack of security? Risk of besiegement? What a farce!
Minutes passed, feeling like hours. I quietly waited for it to lessen, huddled against a stone wall and with a shabby wool blanket wrapped around me. I gazed out at that monster out of the corner of a half-lidded eye, not daring to stare too intensely.
Its vigil did not lessen nor cease. Sleep would not grace me for a long time that night.
----------------------------------------
The morning found me both irritable and jumpy. Ironic, considering I was likely more safe than any night prior.
I'd ruminated half the night over that monster's stare, realizing that it considered everything but the girl a threat. Instead, it appeared to be protecting her. It wasn't keeping watch—though that was an unintended consequence—so much as it was keeping everything away from the girl.
For some reason, this twisted logic addled my mind. Even so far as deviants were concerned, I'd rarely heard of a Slime with such magical prowess. The deviant slimes tended to evolve toward stealth and poison, though there were records of some gem-stone and metal infused Slimes that may lurk within ore mines.
So now that begged the question—just which type was this? A sorcery-trained Slime? That Mana signature was frigid, yet it also possessed healing magics. I could only shake my head.
A meager but welcome breakfast was served, all present including myself quickly ingesting the feeble mixture. It would do, for now. I looked forward to foraging the bounties of nature another morning and serving myself a meal proper.
Discussion with the fair menfolk was had, as Amalia prepared them best as able for the journey ahead. Before we set out, she pulled me aside and presented a proposition I thought I'd never hear in my long life.
"Roz wants to know if you'd be willing to work for her for a short time. She has a Dungeon expedition planned, and would welcome your participation."
Before my mind could keep up, I found my mouth already rejecting out of habit and dictated custom.
"Serve under a monster? Preposterous!"
I stalled for a moment, mouth still open. The girl frowned sharply at me, before continuing with a narrowed brow.
"This is a very serious request, Miss Val. We only ask that you consider the matter and keep an open mind. The duration of participa—ugh, I mean 'employment' would likely be a minimum of several weeks. I can explain in more detail. If you don't have any pressing business, I would appreciate your help."
I sat there for a while, listening to the young beast-hume's proposal. Outlining the matter more simply, they sought one person to accompany them in defeating a Dungeon's 1st Floor Boss. Such a goal seemed oddly specific, prompting many questions on my part. It appears they require an escort of some sort?
While I was not wholly opposed to the idea of going on a bit of an adventure, doing the bidding of a monster? I cannot help but pause at the notion.
"What would such an endeavor entail, child? I'm a bit skeptical that the three of us could slay a Dungeon Floor Boss without incident. I assume you are trained in the martial arts, but I feel that such a small group would be lacking."
Or rather, what I mean to imply is that even if that Slime has magical might to rival my own, isn't the composition a bit small and imbalanced?
"That isn't an issue. The Floor Boss we are targetting is an Undead-type necromancer fielding a small army. Rozalin has means to handle such a thing, but ..."
I stared at the girl curiously, as she finally continued with a resigned sigh.
"... she's worried I'll get hurt. There are some traps. And we need at least one more person anyway, or victory is meaningless."
Meaningless?
The two before me are quite the odd pair. Isn't the glory of banishing a Dungeon's creation reason enough?
"What would I hope to gain from such a thing?" I ask. After all, even if it's only the first layer of a Dungeon, some of them can be perilous to one's continued existence. Even I do not yearn for a fruitless end.
The lass fidgets before me. It's a winsome and fitting motion for one such as she, causing me to become distracted and smirk lightly. It seems I've troubled her.
"... If you'd like to wait and decide later, that's fine. But if you agree, then Rozalin says she'll provide food and lodging for you. Most importantly, she'll bestow a Title upon you that increases all your abilities by 11-percent."
It was then that my mind blanked.
"I believe I misheard you. You say that Slime can simply bestow Titles that increase all abilities by 11-percent?"
"Yes, that is correct," she frowned.
My hands began to tremble, so I applied pressure upon them to hinder such a betrayal.
"I'm familiar with Titles, so I must inquire one thing. Are there any drawbacks to such a Title?"
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
She looked confused, "Drawbacks? No, not that I'm aware of. I haven't experienced any in the past several months. If nothing, I'd say that my growth has been unusually fast ever since. Even considering, hngh ... the training pace."
I listened as she spat the last words out with a grimace. Yet only one word appeared in my mind.
Impossible.
What kind of Title could possibly increase every single ability by 11-percent without any drawbacks? No limitations? No penalties? Freely given? While I don't doubt comparable Titles existed, they would be hard-gained by the upper echelons of warriors. Surely not given out like steamed chestnuts!
If true, an all-purpose Title such as this would be the rough combat equivalent of one that boosted a single stat by at least 20-percent, possibly double that depending on the individual and method of fighting. At that point, it may as well be a Spell effect that bolstered one's prowess. And those Spells almost always had durations, costs, or drawbacks afterward—at least when they reached that magnitude. Maladies such as delayed exhaustion, decreased stamina, splitting headaches, and more mundane afflictions were half-expected.
The most noteworthy takeaway was as follows. Spell effects that bolstered attributes rarely overlapped. The strongest would take effect. Titles affected the base condition, as such they worked multiplicatively with magic. So if a Title was obtained that increased the base condition to an unusually high rate, it was apparent what the attainable result became.
While I was deep in thought and calculation about how such an example would apply to my obviously peerless magical prowess, blessed physique, and quick-handedness, the lass spoke.
"I-If that isn't enough, Roz says that the Title's bonus will continue to increase in the future, so to consider it as an investment. It w-would also let you use telepathy with us and speak to Rozalin directly. She can also heal your body further as repayment?"
My throat went dry as I asked hoarsely, "Increase? How much higher would it go?"
The usual silence came, and then a reply that floored me a moment later.
"She thinks within another year or two, it would be up to 20-percent. ... Maybe."
I blinked. Surely I'd misheard this time. This couldn't be real. It couldn't be.
"How ... No, is there a limit to giving this Title you speak of?"
My voice quivered slightly, seeking to confirm one thing. All frivolity had left my body. Assuming this wasn't an elaborate joke or ruse to draw me into a contract, the implications were dire. For a brief moment, I recalled my homeland—Thousand-Year Oaks in flames, smoke blanketing the canopy. Not a memory I wanted to relive. I pushed down a lump that formed in my throat.
"Rozalin can only give one more person the Title for now. That's why she requests a commitment to completing this task if she were to assign the Title upon you. Just know it can be revoked at any time. Please take this seriously."
Relief flooded my body. There was a limit.
Thank the Gods. Had this monster before me genuinely been able to bestow an unlimited number of such Titles upon anyone of their choosing, wouldn't that be the most horrifying thing imaginable? An entire nation's soldiers being bolstered by a permanent, effortless Title? It would equate to a disaster. What King, what person wouldn't want to possess such a thing? It would be enough to go to war over.
If she's to be believed, it's limited to a certain number of people. If it's only a handful, then that isn't nearly as soul-rending. Still, if applied to the most elite within a nation's fighting forces, that would be an enormous boon regardless. Perhaps enough to tip the balance of power in many scenarios. Especially if the increase really does reach that high.
My neck was damp and my thoughts darted to and fro. Do they not realize the implications? What is with that look on her face? She can't be that clueless, can she? Too young to know the value of such a thing? 'If that isn't enough'? More like it's too much!
"Explain this 'telepathy' to me more, if you don't mind," I replied. I needed more time to compose myself.
Once the lass went over the information with me, things became a bit more apparent. Under less ludicrous circumstances, I'd write the whole thing off. To demonstrate, Amalia sat in front of the Slime while it held up a varying amount of tendrils. She then called out number after number, clearly stating how many were being displayed behind her back.
"Roz is actually quite nice once you get used to her," she said, as if trying to improve my opinion of the thing.
The lass then looked at the Slime as several fluctuations were present on her face through the duration of her silence. I held my head with my mangled hand, attempting to wrap my thoughts around this situation.
"I'm not opposed to joining you for a while, but I'd like to consider it first before we hash out any contracts or agreements. 'Twould be witless of me to decide so soon. Let us speak of this after we leave this wretched place, if that is agreeable?"
I nearly choked the words out. After all, hadn't these two saved my life and brought great favor upon myself already? Yet it was imperative that I not appear over-eager. The Slime requires further investigation, as its existence worries me deeply.
... And more pressing was the fact I'd like to get some fresh air and sort my thoughts. This place ills me so.
"Roz says that's fine."
The girl seemed to sigh with relief. On my part, all I felt was a headache building.
----------------------------------------
—That afternoon.
We did not tarry much longer, packing up what supplies and valuables we could.
Yes, that's quite right. Valuables.
The hume-vermin thieves had amassed a small amount of this country's money, along with provisions and other miscellaneous trinkets. While the lass was saddled down with the majority of the monetary goods, she'd apparently argued with the Slime about giving the humes some money in case they became embroiled in an emergency.
I watched as the Slime made all manner of shapes and contortions, and the girl made all manner of gestures and facial expressions. Rarely have I seen such a sight in moons past. An interesting performance.
An entire day was spent trudging back between forest trails and other dusty, ill-kept and scarcely used roads. Due to the poor condition of the hume-children, we had to take breaks far more often than one would expect. It would seem that even before captivity, those present were not very physically capable.
As dusk came, we'd finally neared close enough to the local town that the remaining distance would pose no peril. Town walls had barely been in sight, and the walk would be a pittance compared to the journey thus far. Two of the women cried tears of joy, the mother and her children, and the quiestest of the remaining three wept as well.
After their sentimentality died down, the lass announced to them that it was time to part and bade her farewells. She then continued with a puzzled tone, stating that the Slime had something to say to them first. More than a few dubious stares were given, myself included.
It seems the Slime asked the lass and I to move a short distance away for privacy, so we proceded as such. While out of earshot, I could still make out the scene before us. The lass seemed dissatisfied with the situation as we sat upon a tree stump in the clearing, waiting.
The Slime puffed up into a form vaguely resembling a humanoid torso—no bigger than a goblin or other small creature. A misshapen 'head' formed, along with two spindly 'arms.' And then the head split open into two goopy, uneven halves. I presume meant to signify a mouth.
And then came something that shook even my innards.
While it usually would be at a distance the average human might not make out, my ears could, of course, hear the conversation quite clearly. More clearly than anything before. If only that haunting, grating, rasping and hissing noise had never violated my ears. First the Slime had done it with touch, and now with sound.
"I reeTuRN yOU sssAFely free OF cH'arje. TehL noW'oNe we mET. Ey've puT a mah'JiCK sEEyl uPon yOU AhL aS iNssur'ANce. Ehf yOU bee-T'rAY thi'SS W'oN KonDition, Ey wiLL kNO. T'he SEEyl wiLL b'hurST, aNd yOU wiLL beg fo'Hr D'eth. T'he SEEyl wiLL lassT fohr W'oN yee'R. Ey ss'ug'Jest yOU AhL fohrGet m'EEting uSss f'hor BOthh oUR ss'akes. NoW, gOOd'bye aNd gOOd dAY."
*Plain text:
"I return you safely, free of charge. Tell no one we met. I've put a magic seal upon you all as insurance. If you betray this one condition, I will know. The seal will burst, and you will beg for death. The seal will last for one year. I suggest you all forget meeting us, for both our sakes. Now, goodbye and good day."
—
I immediately examined my body the moment those 'words' spewed forth.
It couldn't be. There was no time to put seals on us all! I'd watched nearly the entire night and would almost certainly have noticed a seal being forced upon myself. While a nagging feeling told me things existed beyond my comprehension, this shouldn't be one of them.
For a seal to be present, there was too much missing preparation and none of the signs. I'd never heard of a seal like that in my many, many moons. Something that could monitor and control speech from a distance? My examination turned up nothing at all, let alone a spell of that nature.
Those humes' ashen-faced stares indicated they'd received quite the impact. They didn't seem to harbor any doubts. Did they even know how seals functioned? I hadn't sensed any noteworthy Mana from any of them. Untrained and without knowledge, then ...
It finally made sense.
Yes, that must be it. 'Twas a lie meant to encourage compliance. The lass had spoken to them sweetly yet sternly, asking they stay quiet. And the Slime had all but threatened to kill them should they talk. A varied approach. Assuming it wasn't seen through, it might even be effective.
"What's wrong, Val? You look unwell."
I jolted. My heart had taken fright as I recalled the girl sitting beside me.
With an exhale of relief, I quickly replied, "Just lost in thought, young pup. My regrets, as I did not mean to concern you. Shall we continue the earlier discussion on the joint treatise between the scholars of southeast Almswood and the beastkin city of Numerii? Considering your heritage, I think you'll find it most enlightening!"
Yet again I received a strange smile as a response. While I believed that a sign to continue, we were soon interrupted by the Slime's return.
"Roz says you can come stay with us. We have a small place near the local Dungeon."
"Ah, I see. Well then, shall we make way?"
As we part ways with the hume-folk, I glanced behind. They've all taken root like trees, staring in our direction long after we've departed. After that spectacle, I'm not sure I can fault them. ...
The distance is short, yet the silence is oppressive. The sun had run its course, now hiding behind the rolling hills and tree line. I can feel the Mana in the ground below grow a tad thicker as we go. And more foul. A Dungeon, indeed.
As we reached closer to town, I found the Slime had taken on a grassy coloration, blending into the shrubbery and terrain. This only made me more wary of the thing. While perhaps not perfect under direct light, this exhibition of concealment was unexpected. Its broad repertoire of abilities was increasingly worrisome.
We passed through numerous trees, still growing and recovering their vitality from the grasp of Winter's chill. The more hardy bushes had already blossomed forth, painting the scenery a mix of browns and greens. This was tinted further by the dark-red light from the sun clinging to the horizon.
I then noticed a small clearing. Unskilled hands had woven a net of grass and leaves, which when peeled back revealed a makeshift wooden slab that functioned as a small door. A metal link held the door shut, which the lass quickly opened. The Slime then crept through the door first, before giving the affirmative to enter. Curious.
The pup and I descended into what she called her home. Objection toward having to go from one cave to another rose within my chest. While 'twould be rude to comment on one's living conditions, I nonetheless found the subterranean prospect dreary.
A small table stood within the room, while an unlit oil lamp rested atop it. There were a set of shelves that remained completely bare, much like the rest of the room. An odd place to live, in my humble opinion.
As if noticing my glare, the pup spoke, "We weren't sure if we'd be returning, so much of our things were stored away further in. Roz is going to go dig them up."
The lass continued to explain what had prompted them to enact their timely rescue was something as simple as the girl having a bounty put upon her head. It seems she'd had a run-in with those vermin's mates, then another had discovered her residence. They'd merely sought to gather information and form a plan to prevent future trouble, before retreating.
A grim smile appeared upon my face after I was retold the account of events. Had things gone any differently, I'd likely be dead in a hole. No rescue would have come in time.
I shook my head, dispelling such gloomy thoughts. While a small part of me thought it fitting, I did not wish to pass away in such foreign lands. Not yet, anyway. There were still several faces I vehemently desired to spite first. That alone was fuel enough. It brought a smile back to my lips.
"Well, it seems the God of Fortune favored me when he sent you. Without your aid, 'twould have been a terrible end for all of us. Thank you, Amalia."
Instead of the customary 'you're welcome,' I instead watched as the poor girl's eyes welled with tears. Her face was bitter.
"I didn't do anything deserving of thanks. And even so, Rozalin was mostly the one who helped. You should thank her."
The Slime, huh? Well ... it is highly irregular and against all manner of common sense, but perhaps I should consider doing as such. What would a Slime appreciate as gratitude? I cannot fathom such abstract niceties. How maddening.
"Say, Val, there's something that's been bothering me for quite a while now."
"Yes, child?" I ask.
While I kept considering what to gift a monster and the implications of status and societal norms, my idle thoughts landed back upon the fuzzy girl. She continued to fidget and stare at me. It's making me feel a tad embarrassed at this point. Cease your gaze already, child! It is unbecoming.
"Out with it, lass," I chuckled, "What ails you so? Give voice to your concerns."
I narrow my brow, subjecting her to the same scrutiny presented to me. She finally lets out a sigh.
"Can we take that dagger out of you now? It's ... bothering me."
I look down. Ah, yes. There was that.
"It seems to have more or less mended enough to allow extraction, so I cannot perceive a reason for it to remain longer. One moment."
I slowly tug the bothersome piece of metal out, now keenly aware of that cold, tingling displeasure that had been present. Cold iron is not something I'd care to get used to. Freezing and biting all in one. How miserable!
The wound seems to have healed beneath and around the blade. Within a few moons, it will be good as new. But Heavens above is it still tender! So irksome. I'll have to bandage the gash later.
Drops of dried blood and a modicum of briar-ichor remain, staining the bluish-gray blade a darker hue. Good riddance.
I set the blade on the table, ready to resume the conversation. I've perhaps committed a breach in manners, as the girl looks a bit ill when gazing upon the blade. Is her constitution poor?
Suddenly, she looks alarmed. I inquire the reason, slowly becoming used to her abrupt facial expressions.
"Roz says we should discuss the ... 'employment' matter as soon as possible. She wants to move elsewhere after the Floor Boss is slain."
The Slime wants to move? I can think of a few reasons for that. These two seem to have a peculiar dynamic.
I kept my thoughts to myself. We then made casual talk, while I looked around the place. The walls weren't terribly wide nor tall, and it was understandably infused with the smell of soil. Not a terrible scent, per se, but I would quite prefer the aroma of trees and nature's bounty. Elves aren't meant to be underground.
"Lass, I must voice a question. Why do you stay here? You do not appear ill-off judging by your garb. Surely you could find more suitable housing within town, no?"
Contrary to expectations, her mouth stiffened and she spoke in a brusque tone, "This is all Rozalin can do right now. It's our home. I don't want a place in town."
"... Forgive me, I spoke rashly. Allow me to apologize for any offense."
I'll have to watch my tongue further. The relationship between this lass and the monster needed more examination. It would be a shame if this nice young woman was being roped into some nefarious plot or scheme from a monster, but I'm beginning to doubt that initial assumption. I've no idea what it's promising her or why she'd stay with it.
Then there was the other matter. Ignoring other feats, the ability to grant powerful Titles was dangerous by itself. It felt like my civic duty to verify and monitor such a thing. If the wrong people caught wind of this information, I ...
The Slime bounded back in the room, coming back from down the lone hallway leading further in. Before the discussion could resume, something else decided my sanity hadn't experienced enough of a blow today.
Yes. A divine message appeared before me. Accompanied with this revelation was a mature-sounding woman's voice, soft-yet-firm. Words flowed into my mind, disorienting me for that brief moment.
Let's get down to business. To defeat the Floor Boss, will you become my temporary Royal Guard? Allow me to outline the terms. On my end, I ... Wait, what do you mean approaching character limit!? I'm-
I was completely baffled. For a moment, I thought my ears had turned faulty. That alone would have been a fate worse than death.
But no, there was a voice. And it really and truly was speaking to my mind.
Seconds after the voice had concluded, that message lingered within my sight like a shadow. I realized my mouth was hanging open and quickly closed it. I looked over at the Slime, who was now smacking its Core off the nearby shelf.
My mouth twitched. A thought passed through my head. This time, of my own accord.
What in Gandrial's unholy bean sack is this duck-foolery?
I was beginning to have further reservations.
Lass, if I left now, you would still be fine by yourself, yes? ... I hope?
I looked at the Slime, now bubbling and making whining noises, then stared again at my shaggy little rescuer's dead-pan face. Guilt overtook my better judgment. I told myself I could quit after I assisted this lass with the Dungeon matter, and that it imperative I ensure her well-being before departing.
That's right. I should think more positively! After all, I don't want to shame my House's name by being known as an ingrate. Even if, well ... things are as they are back home. And I'm becoming certain this is a terrible idea. Besides, what's a little Dungeon delving to one such as I? Hah!
I then let out a sigh. I suppose it's as my dear mother oft said, 'What's the worst that could kill you? Live a little!'
I much later learned of fates worse than death. The abominations this Slime named Rozalin called 'double-entry bookkeeping' and 'balance sheets' would haunt my dreams for hundreds of moons to come.