Chapter Twelve: The Slime Plains

Page 1/3

It was precisely because of Dave’s warning that Roshu had never even considered visiting Slime Plains until today. Having learned from past encounters with goblins, Roshu would never assume that the slimes in this world would be soft and small as imagined. They might very well have eight-pack abs, six arms, and four legs. Yet, when Roshu finally arrived at Slime Plains, he was astonished to find it completely unlike what he had envisioned.

Standing at the border between the jungle and the plains, he gazed out over an endless expanse of grassland. Though there were occasional gentle hills, the terrain was largely flat. On the horizon hung a setting sun, glowing a deep red. The crimson-golden sunlight filtered through the clouds, bathing the plains in twilight hues.

The wind across the plains was much stronger than in the forest near the sunset. As gusts swept over the low, verdant grasses, they rolled and bent beneath the slanting sun, casting shifting shadows like waves of a pale golden sea. The gentle breeze carried a refreshing coolness that brushed Roshu’s face, invigorating his spirit. Since arriving in this world, this was the first time he had seen such a beautiful place.

More importantly, not a single slime could be seen anywhere. Of course, Roshu didn’t know exactly what slimes looked like, but the plain before him was utterly empty. Still, recalling Dave’s words, Roshu remained cautious.

He glanced at Layla, who was delighted by the scenery, and smiled as he said, “Layla, it’s getting late. Let’s set up camp here.” “Mm-hmm,” Layla nodded happily.

The two of them pitched their tent, built a fire, and watched the last rays of the sunset together. Night fell.

For dinner, they had stewed beef with potatoes and dry thin bread—a recipe Layla had learned from Roshu’s landlady. The landlady was a small elderly woman with excellent cooking skills. Though somewhat old-fashioned and stern, she was soft-hearted beneath her gruffness. She always complained about Layla’s shortcomings but still taught her several signature dishes.

“If a slave can’t even cook, then there’s no reason for her to stay!” she had said.

Roshu knew this was just her personal opinion, but Layla took it as gospel. “I will work hard!” she promised the landlady.

Unexpectedly, Layla showed a surprising talent for cooking. After just a few nights of practice, she barely passed the landlady’s inspection—and Roshu benefitted along with her. After several days eating Layla’s meals outdoors, Roshu felt his taste buds had been completely won over.

Though the food in this world was not bad, Roshu had always felt it lacked a certain something—spiciness. At least in Wheel Town, where they were. Being from the south in his previous life, Roshu preferred more pungent flavors. Layla had noticed this and added a blend of spices to every meal she made, perfectly catering to Roshu’s palate.

Just like today, Roshu polished off two bowls of beef stew.

Page 2/3

“Did you like today’s meal, master?” Layla brought over some small cookies as dessert, asking expectantly as usual.

“I liked it very much. Your cooking is excellent, Layla!” Roshu answered honestly.

Layla was delighted, even twitching the ears atop her head. “I’m glad you’re satisfied!”

Roshu picked up a cookie and took a bite—it was raisin-flavored and quite good. Most desserts sold in Wheel Town were either raisin or raspberry flavored, not because the townsfolk preferred them, but simply because Michelle, the sole owner of the town’s dessert shop, liked those flavors.

Roshu handed another cookie to Layla. “Layla, how much did these cookies cost?”

Layla’s face flushed crimson. She was about to speak but finally just reached out and took the cookie. “Miss Michelle didn’t charge any copper coins. She said, since you gave her a free massage before, these are her gift for you to try.”

“Is that so? I remember saying that was a trial session for her,” Roshu replied.

When he first arrived, opening the door to massage services in Wheel Town hadn’t been easy. He had used much marketing knowledge from his previous life. Layla was about to bite into the cookie when she nodded eagerly, “Yes, yes! Michelle said exactly that—the cookies are a gift to you as a trial sample!”

“Oh, I see.” Roshu didn’t press further, letting Layla enjoy her treat in peace.

He turned to look toward the town and smiled to himself. Wheel Town truly was a fine place, and its people were good folk.

After dinner, Layla, as usual, pulled a small notebook from her magic pouch and sat beside the tent to tally the accounts. Roshu had taught her arithmetic. Though still clumsy, she could manage simple addition and subtraction. Each night she was on watch, she calculated the day’s approximate earnings, so they’d have a clear picture before their next visit to the guild.

Roshu should have gone to sleep first, but tonight he found himself unexpectedly restless. Sitting cross-legged beside Layla, he gazed out over the darkened plain, a vague unease stirring in his heart. Dave’s words echoed in his mind.

Dave, though often boasting, joking, and telling bawdy jokes, had never been wrong in what he told Roshu after drinking.

“Roshu, don’t think about killing goblins. One of those can take on five of you,” he said the third time they drank together.

“Roshu, don’t mess with Liss. People here say she’s pretty, but they don’t know a thing. I’ve seen thousands of women, and that one’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” he warned the fifth time.

“Roshu, Old White is a swindler! He’s right most of the time, but when it comes to money, don’t expect to get a single copper from him,” he said the seventh time.

“Roshu, Laura’s got a really big behind!” was his first drunken remark.

There were many such instances, and almost all of Dave’s words proved true. So, if that was the case, then Dave’s warning about Slime Plains must be true as well.

Looking at the vast plain shrouded in darkness before him, Roshu’s unease grew.

Tonight’s sky seemed covered by thick clouds, without a trace of moonlight or stars. The plain was so quiet it felt as if something lurking in the dark would instantly devour any creature stepping onto it.

Suddenly, Layla wrinkled her nose, looked up at the sky, and said, “Master, it’s going to rain.”

“Rain?” Roshu glanced upward. The clouds were indeed dense tonight, but it didn’t look like rain was imminent.

“Layla’s nose has been sensitive to rain since she was little. If she senses the air turning damp, it means rain is coming,” Layla explained.

No sooner had she finished speaking than a single raindrop fell on the tip of her nose.

Layla happily stretched out her hand to catch the drizzling rain, then turned to Roshu, wanting to prove her prediction right.

“Master, see? It’s raining now…”

Her voice gradually faded until silent.

Across the endless plain, towering transparent creatures three or four meters tall began to emerge, moving slowly through the rain. The droplets revealed their otherwise invisible forms. They had no visible eyes or expressions, but their huge mouths opened and closed unconsciously.

They moved without order, seemingly unaware of Layla and Roshu’s presence.

Such a chilling sight unfolded before them.

Layla swallowed nervously. She wanted to ask her master what to do but dared not speak.

But the question soon answered itself.

At the far edge of the plain, rows upon rows of even larger slimes appeared. They stood six or seven meters tall, arranged in neat lines, advancing slowly like a well-trained army, crushing everything in their path.

More importantly, each of them had crimson eyes.

At the moment their gaze met Layla and Roshu’s, the leader among them seemed to realize they had been spotted, making a “bloop bloop” sound.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh! Whoosh whoosh whoosh!

Pairs of crimson inverted-triangle eyes lit up across the previously disorganized slimes. Each slowly turned its head, locking their gaze on Layla and Roshu.

Cold sweat dripped down Roshu’s forehead.

“Run!!!”

With that single word, he kicked off their desperate flight through the rainy night.

Page 3/3