Within the Biron study, an older wizard and younger woman stared at each other, mentally sizing one another up.
A gentle look framed Grinwald's face. His introduction rang clearly off the walls. Before him, Rozalin was quietly wondering why a middle-aged man had appeared before her, why he was wearing such a stereotypical robe, and a myriad of other questions. It wasn't as if the occasional interruption hadn't occurred, but that had been from staffers or Biron himself.
“Rozalin, nice to meet you,” she finally replied.
Grinwald smiled lightly in response. While nothing about his motions or demeanor gave off anything but the impression of a gentleman, his thoughts were entirely different.
‘Ah, how convenient. I’ve wasted enough time out here. To think I’d find you so soon, little beast.’
He looked upon the small figure before him. Wrapped up in a slim set of robes and tightly wound bandages was none other than a monster. Its borderline androgynous, peculiar tone of voice was mildly off-putting to him.
Grinwald had been investigating Berrios and the local area for several weeks now. Just last week, he’d met with Alphonse Biron on the premise of speaking to his daughter to probe for information. Unfortunately, he’d learned little from the girl. He did manage to find the name of the acquisition he’d found within that bothersome Dungeon. Not that objects needed names anymore, but an interesting bit of trivia.
Unlike some of the more peculiar members of the Blades, or just people in general, Grinwald prided himself as a man of intellect and rationality. Once something ceased to be human, it was no longer afforded human protections. While his sense of morals was normally upright, he had no problems bending them … a tiny bit, so long as it meant furthering his aims. Regardless, he preferred to not experiment on ‘humans’ when possible.
Which didn’t apply at all to the creature before him.
Grinwald had been restraining his Mana and presence more than usual, all so he could observe the little troublemaker before him. It had taken it a shorter time than expected to notice him. He was surprised. It had only been three months since that incident, yet the Slime had already learned to speak and take on an, albeit crude, human form.
He wasn’t quite sure what type of evolution it had undergone, but it was obvious that it was a shape-shifter and a Deviant of the highest order. He was almost impressed. A few theories came to mind.
Judging from the Mana signature it was giving off, Grinwald concluded that it had advanced to at least level 20 or so. Certainly, within this town it wasn’t considered a weak existence. Grinwald could also tell from his morning conversation with Alphonse Biron that the man was curious and suspicious of this ‘Rozalin’.
And yet, he apparently hadn’t been able to piece the information together. How amusing, to invite his daughter’s master’s killer into their home! Sweet irony.
Grinwald could only mentally shake his head and suppress a chuckle. Did this monster think it was safe in this town? Even that Biron fellow would quickly be reduced to bones with a wave of his hand. A Slime would only take a flick of his finger.
Did it think to hide in plain sight? If it were truly smart, it would have fled across the border to the Direlands—or perhaps to Capria with all those beastkin, the brutes they were—not stay so close to the investigation area.
His fears had proven wasted.
Sweet relief flooded the wizard’s veins. He’d surely get a modest reward from this excursion. Perhaps not enough to justify the lost time he’d been forced to spend, but alas.
Still, Grinwald was a bit curious about the creature. Before concluding their silly theatrics, he intended to amuse himself. He was in a wonderful mood, after all, so he figured he’d ‘play’ with the little scamp for a bit before dashing its hopes. Perhaps he’d even get some good information while its guard was down?
The King’s interrogators could be a bit brutish to prisoners, let alone a monster. They’d likely just kill it after getting some scraps. There was still a slim chance it had collaborators, or could provide something of worth.
And so, Grinwald decided to put on an act.
“Lord Biron tells me that you are quite the accomplished healer. I was a somewhat impressed to hear such praise this far out along the border.”
The Slime looked at the book in its hands, then at him.
“Accomplished? Hmm. If he thinks so, I believe that's more indicative of the lack of skill in the locals. You said you were a professor, yes? Where or what do you teach?”
Grinwald's brow rose, before replying, “I’m employed at the Britonian Sorcery Institute within the Capital. As for the subject, I primarily give lessons on Magic Theory and Construction.”
Grinwald watched the Slime tilt its ‘head’. The gesture appeared quite strange to him, considering what he knew. It wasn’t something a monster should do, imitating people like that.
“The Capital? If I recall correctly … that’s quite a distance away.”
“Ah, it is indeed. I had some business this far out and decided to tour the area,” Grinwald replied with a chuckle.
For a moment, he thought the thing had figured out his intentions or identity. After all, what sort of professor would be across the country on a ‘tour’ in this season? It was laughable, really. Instead, he was greeted with a question.
“This ... 'Institute', they teach magic and such there, I assume? Biron mentioned he was afraid to take his daughter that far out. Are the healers there able to treat such injuries more easily?”
“Hm? Yes, something like that shouldn’t have been a problem. The mages in the Capital are first-rate, after all. No offense to those living around here, but there isn’t much of a comparison.”
Opposite of him, Rozalin was rather perplexed. She felt this man was a mage of comparable talent to herself judging by his Mana. Had he stopped by the Biron residence to heal Aryana? She doubted it, but in the event she’d snatched the bounty from him, she was worried he harbored ill feelings at wasting a journey or preparations.
“I don’t suppose you stopped in regard to the request that Biron posted? I doubt it, but I apologize if I snubbed your efforts.”
It was Grinwald’s turn to become confused as to how she arrived at that conclusion.
“Not at all? … As I stated, I’m here on other business. Unfortunately, healing magic is my weakest affinity.”
After all the dabbling he’d done in the arcane, dark, and soul-related magics, the grace of healing and light magic wasn’t something that naturally came to Grinwald. At best, he could patch up a few scrapes and bruises. Or reanimate flesh.
“Is that so? I was hoping to find a competent healer,” sighed the Slime.
“Why is that? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Such a statement left him feeling curious. There was a pause in the conversation as he watched the thing fidget before him. He could only imagine the odd sight beneath that cloak as it writhed. No doubt, it must be quite repulsive.
“Ah, well. I wanted to study diseases and healing of the brain, things of that nature. My knight companion has an odd illness I’ve been struggling to cure. Plus, I figure the least I can do is make sure that no matter how injured she becomes, I can restore her back to perfect health.”
The explanation left Grinwald a bit baffled. Had a person said such a thing, he wouldn’t be nearly so surprised. There were quite a few monsters and the like that had a solid grasp on healing magic—the Sylph, some fae races, Silver Alraunes and the like. On this list, Slimes did not occur. More importantly, why would a Slime care about people?
It was interesting to note that there was another involved with it. Perhaps this really was a collaborator?
“... That’s quite a tall order, then. I know many mages within that Capital who can mend life-threatening injuries.”
“Do you know any who would be able to restore someone’s life once they’ve died?”
Grinwald paused further.
He could scarcely believe the noises coming from that thing’s maw. Was it asking him about necromancy? But no, hadn’t the topic been healing magic? Unless it knew who he was and decided to play games with him, too?
The smile on his face slipped for a moment, before quickly correcting itself.
“... As in, Resurrection? We are still talking about healing magic, yes?”
“Resurrection? That sounds about right. Yes, do you know someone like that? My knight tells me such a thing isn’t possible, but I find myself doubting her knowledge at times.”
Grinwald’s inner mood was quickly becoming sour. Such a topic was something of a taboo for him, given his proclivities. If things like Resurrection were possible, he wouldn’t have spent the majority of his life forming defensive magics and trying to stave off the threat of death.
His tone became a tad more somber.
“No, I’m quite certain such a thing does not exist outside of the Gods’ miracles. While the flesh may be reanimated by those practicing certain magic, the soul immediately fractures and then fades. Death is, almost certainly, final.”
Rozalin was lost in thought, so the small change went unnoticed. The new revelation was disappointing, to say the least. While she wouldn’t trust a stranger’s information without trying multiple credible sources, her search was off to a bad start. If she could end up here, didn’t that mean some nonsensical soul-business had occurred?
She hadn't much believed in souls before while still alive on Earth, but after all she'd experienced, she now hoped to unravel such mysteries. After all, people had been resuscitated after death back on Earth. So long as too much time hadn’t passed, there would be no damage to the brain. Why should this world be different? Why did people seem to accept such a thing so easily?
Rozalin’s otherworld common sense was clashing with this world’s.
“You’re quite certain?” she asked.
“Yes,” replied Grinwald with a stony face, “I’ve been studying matters of the soul and death for quite some time. I may even be proud enough to boast that I am something of an expert in the field. Had anyone discovered a means to prevent death or aging, I dare say I’d have heard something about it!”
Grinwald finished his statement in a bit of a huff. He pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing his emotions had gotten the better of him. His mood had taken a turn. He was no longer disposed to entertain this annoying creature.
The seasoned wizard began to raise his hand. A fitting spell was selected from his mental catalog.
Then the thing began to utter something that barely caught his ears.
“You mean even in the Capital, they haven’t realized how to stop or revert aging, let alone Resurrection? I thought at least the upper nobility would … Tch! How can the people around here be so inept when they have literal magic at their disposal?”
Rozalin was currently pacing back and forth in disbelief at the inefficiency and lack of creativity that this world’s mages possessed. She was becoming convinced that all magicians did was throw Mana at their problems with vague directions and a shoddy plan of action. Had any mage heard her inner thoughts, they would surely want to strangle her.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
And Grinwald, of course, wanted to strangle her. At the same time, his ears rang in disbelief. The control he had on his Mana was threatening to weaken, causing a violent spill out.
“I—… I’m sorry, but I believe I misheard. Age isn’t so easily overcome. You seem to be taking such matters quite lightly.”
Hate filled his veins as the creature before him jolted lightly at his comment, directing her attention back to him. All plans of not causing too much of a scene within Marquis Biron’s home were quickly flying out the window.
“Oh. I did not mean to discredit you, professor. I suppose I might have a bit of a unique perspective on the matter, so my ideas and methods are a bit outlandish.”
Rozalin was internally lamenting the discouraging news. She thought at least the King or someone had access to some fancy healing magic that would let them coast into old age. Wasn’t that pretty standard for magic novels and the like? Or even just politicians in general? And didn’t they have long-lived races like her annoying elf companion who could talk for—erm, live, for hundreds of years?
Rozalin was convinced some mad scientist somewhere should’ve been able to perform some inhumane experiments and garner information from it. How mundane. She was beginning to regret her slip of the tongue. She didn’t want to stand out with her healing magic too much, but this was an important detail! Rozalin feared she’d never find a source of information as good as this again in the future.
Grinwald’s rich voice filled the study once more.
“Would you care to elaborate? Perhaps I know a bit of what you’re talking about,” he replied with a furrowed brow. He was eagerly awaiting the next insult he’d hear before he reduced this aggravating monster to ash.
The Slime woman stared at him once more. With a curious voice, she hesitantly inquired, “Well, I'm sure you at least understand some of the factors that cause aging, yes? Why the body's cells begin to deteriorate?”
----------------------------------------
Soon thereafter.
Grinwald stared at the blackboard they’d appropriated within the Biron study.
His maddening anger toward this creature had turned into bewilderment. Its—her?—way of thinking was simply insane. He’d never heard of such a thing before.
On the blackboard, he’d watched the small figure create a few simple illustrations. Something she called 'DNA' was written on the board, along with a strange series of lines in the shape of a twisted ladder. The two had long ago devolved into a series of discussions on the topic of both magic and what she called ‘anatomy’ and ‘chemistry’. A form of alchemy, perhaps?
While Grinwald’s proficiency with healing magic was abysmal considering his level and status, he was still quite well-informed on the topic. On the topic of Resurrection and soul magic, his breadth of knowledge was outmatched by few.
“Such a thing just isn’t possible!” he half-shouted, “Once a subject is killed, their soul is lost. Even should they die from natural causes, the fading process has already begun. Any attempts to revive are temporary and short-lived at best. There has never been a recorded case of sustained Resurrection without divine interference. Best-case scenario, you’d have a half-filled shell with the intelligence of a housefly!”
“But if the Gods or whatever can perform such feats, then surely there must be some sort of means or boundary somewhere. If it exists, it isn’t impossible. It’s merely a matter of understanding how to go about such a thing.”
A counter-argument was proposed by Rozalin. To this, Grinwald could only pull his hair.
“You talk of encroaching upon the Gods’ domain! If a God or Goddess heard such a thing, they’d surely smite you down! Bah! It’s better to just prevent death entirely! With enough protections and prevention of aging, immortality would be firmly within one’s grasp!”
“That’s all well and good, but accidents can still occur. Damage to the brain especially can be lethal. While biological immortality is a fine goal, the ability to reverse death should still be the ultimate objective. This ‘soul’ business should be studied in further detail. Why, if the King used death row inmates and the like, couldn’t researchers garner a large amount of information on the topic?”
“Like I’ve stated, the King would never concede to such experiments! If such a thing became public, the backlash would be immense! He’d be accused of starting the End War anew! At best, they could be done by an unaffiliated organization in absolute secrecy. The Church and its Paladins would cleanse the entire operation the moment they heard of such practices. It’s strictly forbidden, those damn fools!”
While Grinwald was seething, Rozalin could only cradle her head. They were now arguing over which method was more reliable. Or uh, politically feasible? Perhaps that was a better way to put it.
For Rozalin, the discussion with this old man had turned tremendously informative over the past hour. While it took a bit of bringing him up to speed, his insight into the magic and political side of things was truly invaluable. It was only unfortunate that his scientific understanding was so lacking, though otherwise she was certain she’d have little to contribute to the conversation.
“If human experimentation is out of the question, then why not use animals and monsters as a starting point?” she fumed.
Grinwald eyed her appraisingly. He found her statement a bit ironic, to the point he almost wanted to object and volunteer her personally.
“Well, I suppose such a thing would be possible. Some would still accuse such practices as using unholy magic or rituals and the like,” he replied, rubbing his beard.
Rozalin frowned. From what she’d gathered so far, fatal injuries were still a problem for Amalia. She’d have to absolutely ensure that the girl—and herself—didn’t die. At the same time, finding a way to prevent and heal aging was going to be a factor sooner or later.
While it was a bit presumptuous, if Amalia were still employed by her in another 10 years, age was going to slowly set in. It wouldn’t be a problem at first, but researching such a topic would still take no small amount of time and effort. She needed a way to at least stop aging within 10 or 15 years, otherwise she'd need a way to reverse aging thereafter. Who knew if that would be more difficult or not?
Magical hocus pocus was weird like that.
Rozalin was well aware that for physical endeavors, people were generally in their prime during their mid-20s. She could only lament. 10 years would fly by if she wasn't careful. While Rozalin was increasingly certain her new body wouldn't age, the same couldn't be said of her fuzzy employee. Picturing such a future ... irked her.
“Mm, even just trying to stop aging could take me years of research. Then I need to ensure it doesn’t result in cancer or deformities. I’ll have to begin some preliminary experiments and level up quickly.”
While she was muttering to herself and pacing in front of the blackboard, Grinwald was, naturally, listening in. The man's senses were on par with his level. Thus, he was currently faced with quite the dilemma.
Grinwald Osleus enjoyed a privileged position within the Kingdom of Brita. His loyalty to the Crown and the Blades was incredibly solid. Yet as a man ever-so-slowly approaching his demise, even he had priorities.
Gold, women, status, respect, admiration—when had he lacked any of these things in his life? One might even say he’d grown bored of them, or at the very least accustomed. He eyed the pacing monster in front of him carefully, trying to see into its intentions. She gave him more of an air of a scholar than a monster. How preposterous!
The professor turned around, his face scrunching up. He was truly vexed. What a detestable position! What odd fate!
With a wave of his hand, he could return to his comfortable life and continue his relatively fruitless search of immortality. He had lived for over a century now. By his estimates, he had another 50 or so years before he’d succumb. Unless he made some sort of breakthrough, that is. But Grinwald knew in his heart that he was already approaching the decline.
It was minute, but his control over both his body and magic had been showing the faintest decrease over the past several years. An additional wrinkle here and there didn’t help either. While he was still quite handsome in his opinion, he’d certainly lost that youthful charm he once had. It maddened him if he thought about it too deeply. A seed of doubt and fear had long since sprouted in his heart.
Yes, with just a mere wave of his hand, he could continue down that path and hope for the best.
And so, Grinwald did wave his hand. With a small flourish, a small rift appeared within the air. It looked similar to a black disc, hovering quietly. Grinwald’s hand reached within and pulled out a translucent, teardrop-shaped gemstone, similar to a piece of quartz. Despite the mundane appearance, it was an expensive, enchanted magic tool known as a Calling Stone.
Yes, he would take a gamble and push aside his common sense. It was worth it. He'd simply hedge his bets. Surely, such a trifling creature didn't pose any threat to the Kingdom. He doubted anyone would even care.
Grinwald had carefully pieced together the timeline of what had happened. The only mystery at this point was why this Slime was so intelligent. A byproduct of eating the Dungeon Core? It was an ill-known fact that the Cores had some degree of twisted cunning. One need only examine any high-level Dungeon. Alas, he'd think about that another time.
Grinwald handed the Calling Stone to the small creature and began to explain its function. She stared at it curiously throughout.
“This is a Calling Stone. It possesses the ability to allow communication across long distances with its pair. Simply insert some Mana into it and the linked pair will give off a small vibration until it receives the same. When they both have Mana inserted, communication is possible.”
Grinwald noted a few other things before continuing.
“As mentioned, I teach and reside within the Capital’s Institute. There are few comparable facilities and sources of knowledge so potent in the Kingdom of Brita. This little study—” he said, motioning his hands to the shelves, “—cannot even compare. Should you find yourself in Brita one day, do stop by. I would love to continue our conversation.”
Rozalin could only look at the man skeptically. She’d become somewhat aware of the value of most magic tools. While she had enjoyed chatting with this peculiar old man, she didn’t expect him to give her such an item.
After expressing her uncertainties and a few reassurances, Grinwald spoke again.
“Let’s keep in touch. I’m especially interested in what we discussed. I’ll be pouring over a few ideas you’ve given me with a … colleague of mine. If I’m able to achieve anything of note, I’ll give you a call. Naturally, feel free to contact me if you notice anything or run into any problems.”
It must be said, but Grinwald had absolutely no intention of sharing information if it wasn’t necessary. On the contrary, he was desperately calculating ways to get the desired result from this unfathomable creature before him. From what he’d gathered from her personality, forming a positive bond was the most beneficial means.
While he did indeed gift her a Calling Stone, it wasn’t without thought. It had a personalized rune etched within the crystal that would enable him to roughly track its location. He simply failed to mention that tidbit, and he sincerely doubted she'd notice such subtle workmanship or Mana signatures. So long as the slime had it in her possession, he could more or less find her with mild effort.
Which of course meant that he could dispose of her whenever necessary.
On the other hand, Rozalin just gave him an unaware nod. She was becoming a bit impressed with this professor and curious about the quality standards of this ‘Sorcery Institute’ he’d mentioned. If it weren’t so far away, and she wasn’t burdened with personal matters, she’d love to examine it in person. Rozalin was a city girl at heart, so she still had some hopes for proper living arrangements.
At this point, Grinwald was doing his best to not dash out of this drab manor and teleport back to the Capital. He’d memorized the diagrams on the blackboard before erasing them and fully intended to begin experiments in secrecy. The option of getting in touch with a few of his contacts was at the forefront of his thoughts. Part of him wanted to consult Meridia at the Church, but he was worried his actions would leak back to the Blades.
The less involved Grinwald was with John, the better off he’d be. That sadistic bastard gave even him the creeps. He was far too dangerous, to the point Lucretia seemed sane. What a joke that was! That demon, Lucretia! Sane? Pah!
After a few unusual pleasantries, the two were prepared to part ways. Thinking a bit further, Grinwald decided to gift the peculiar creature a few additional items, mostly for his benefit. While he’d never attempted to cultivate his Skill on a monster before, he figured it was worth the effort. That and it might help her live a bit longer and turn into something useful to him.
Or maybe he'd unlock a new Skill or the like, who knew? Perhaps a Deviant monster would be worth more time than the average human.
Grinwald cleared his throat, “I’ve authored a few books on various magical subjects. It is a bit forward, but perhaps you would be interested in perusing them?”
With that, the wizard pulled three tomes out of midair. For the second time, Rozalin was focused on that black disc that he’d summoned. For a brief moment, she wondered if she could obtain whatever Skill that was if she Devoured the man. She quickly decided such thoughts were impolite.
That and the Mana coming off him seemed odd, yet robust. With her shit luck, he'd burn her with more Fire Bolts. She'd had quite enough of that, thank you very much.
“I appreciate the kind gift, though I regretfully have nothing to give in return at this time. I shall keep your kindness in mind in the future. Out of curiosity, can these books teach me how to use that Skill?”
Rozalin pointed to the black disc.
Grinwald stared at her for a moment, before sighing in disappointment. It was nearly impossible to read this thing’s mood. She had no face, after all. And the voice had a tinny quality to it, with very few fluctuations. She may as well be a talking golem, for all the difference it would make. Conversing with a Deviant like this made him feel most uncomfortable.
“Instructions for using a basic version of the Personal Dimension Skill are within the middle volume. The basic form is called the Item Bag—quite useful for adventures and the like. If you’ve any talent for Spatial magic, learning it shouldn’t be a problem. Whether you can upgrade it to a Personal Dimension depends on your talent and effort.”
For her part, Rozalin was a bit skeptical. She’d never actually studied magic properly before. Most things came either naturally or through ingesting one thing or another. Or people. Needless to say, she was a bit worried. What if she didn't have talent for this? Was there someone else she could Devour to get that initial proficiency? Ugh.
Grinwald still had a meeting with the Marquis that he had delayed, a no-doubt annoyed Lucretia awaiting him back at the barracks, and a burning desire to explore the new possibilities he’d been opened up to today. With any luck, the seed he was sowing here would bear fruit in the future. Worse case scenario, he’d just have to retill the fields and dig it up. So long as it showed signs of blooming, he didn’t mind watering it a bit.
The investigation to find this Slime was bound to die down sooner or later. Having gotten a grasp of the picture, he more or less put together what had happened in that Dungeon. There was no great trickery or sabotage—merely a Deviant that broke out in an undesirable fashion. This whole mission would’ve been a waste of his time, were it not for the little gem in front of him.
Finally, the two parted ways on what appeared to be amicable terms. Had anyone read their thoughts throughout the discussion, they would be appalled and disturbed by both parties. For various reasons.
Grinwald mentally devised a list of precautions he’d need to take to cover his tracks. About the only thing he had to do at this point was keep Lucretia away from his new pet for a few days. The town was large enough that doing so shouldn't be a problem. The few threads that tied him to the creature were tenuous and easily severed, if push came to shove. At most, he might get a small reprimand should the worse case scenario surface.
All in all, Grinwald was extremely pleased with how the day had gone. Getting used to calling a monster by name was going to take some adapting, but he felt today had been quite fortuitous. A wide, devilish smile graced his lips as he turned down the hallway.
He was quite convinced this could only end in his favor.