The forest was alive with sound. Hammering, chopping, voices raised in rhythm. What had once been a scattering of rough huts was slowly becoming a true village.
Goblins hauled logs together, sweat gleaming on their brows. Wolves padded silently at the edges, keeping guard as children ran errands with pride. And in the center, Luminus oversaw it all, his body glowing faintly as he shifted into a humanoid form of water and light.
"Straight beams," he reminded one group, pointing. "If the foundations aren't firm, the walls will sag."
"Yes, Chief!" the goblins chorused, not with fear, but with eager determination.
Nearby, Mira guided the women through weaving bark strips into mats. Tarin instructed young hunters on bowstrings, his calm voice cutting through the chatter. Kairn, ever the stern one, drilled a squad with wooden staves, shouting corrections as they sparred.
It was a sight that filled Luminus with quiet pride. We're no longer just surviving, he thought. We're building something lasting.
Yet pride came with a shadow. His senses told him that the forest was too quiet lately. Birds fled more often. The wind carried scents of unfamiliar metal. Strangers were drawing closer.
And he knew the day of peace was numbered.
---
Meanwhile, in Brindel's Adventurers' Guild…
The hall was louder than usual. A talking slime was not news easily ignored. By now, the story had spread from one party to five, then ten. Each retelling warped the tale—some claimed the slime was man-sized, others that it wielded magic, others that it devoured a wyvern whole.
At the counter, Serah sifted through reports with tight lips. Adventurers might exaggerate, but too many accounts aligned.
"Goblins—disciplined. Wolves—tamed. A slime that speaks…" she muttered. "This is no tavern story."
Behind her, the guildmaster—a grizzled man with scars down his cheek—set down his mug. "It's a threat," he growled. "Mark my words. A monster that can think is worse than a hundred beasts. Thought means strategy. And strategy means war."
Serah looked troubled. "Shouldn't we confirm before we brand it an enemy?"
The guildmaster's fist struck the table. "Confirmation? If we wait, we'll be overrun. Already the frontier towns struggle against monster waves. If one of them is teaching beasts to fight… better to cut the root before the tree grows."
His words rippled through the guild hall. Adventurers smirked, already smelling coin. A few looked uneasy, remembering Elira's insistence that the slime had not attacked.
But in such places, coin often spoke louder than conscience.
___
Back in the forest…
That evening, Luminus called his closest allies to the fire: Kairn, Mira, Tarin, and Rugo. The flames cast long shadows across their faces.
"I need to know your honest thoughts," Luminus began. "We've built something here. But humans will come eventually. When they do, what should we do?"
Kairn didn't hesitate. "Fight. If they threaten us, we crush them." His eyes burned with the same fire as his voice.
Mira shook her head. "If we fight blindly, we'll be slaughtered. Humans are many. They have weapons, magic, armies. We can't match them yet."
Tarin leaned forward, fingers laced. "But we can prepare. Defenses. Traps. Hidden stores. Even if we cannot win outright, we can endure."
Rugo growled low. "Wolves survive not by strength alone, but by choosing battles wisely. Some humans will come with blades. But some may come with hands open. If we kill them all, there will never be peace."
The fire crackled in silence. Luminus let each word settle. He felt the truth in all of them.
"I don't want needless bloodshed," he said at last. "But I will not let this village be destroyed. So here's what we'll do: we prepare for war… but keep the door open for peace."
His words struck them like steel against stone.
"Prepare for war…" Kairn repeated, a grim smile spreading across his face.
"…but leave the door open," Mira murmured, almost to herself.
Rugo's tail thumped once against the ground. "Spoken like a true leader."
---
Elsewhere—deep in human lands.
The rumors had spread beyond Brindel. In the marble halls of Calvess City, nobles whispered at banquets. In candlelit chambers, merchants scribbled calculations. To some, the tale was absurd. To others, opportunity.
And in the shadows, cloaked figures listened carefully.
One such figure reported to his master in a dimly lit chamber, where the scent of incense masked the stench of old blood.
"A slime, my lord. Leading goblins, wolves. Speaking with reason."
The master leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with cruel curiosity. "A monster that speaks… a rare jewel indeed. Bring me proof. If it exists, I will have it bent to my will—or destroyed."
The messenger bowed deeply, vanishing into the dark.
In that moment, the fate of the forest shifted.
----
Back at the village—several days later.
Training grew harsher. Goblins who once trembled at wolves now stood firm beside them. Spears were sharpened. Walls of sharpened logs rose at the village's edge.
Luminus walked among them, encouraging, correcting, lending strength where needed. His body absorbed ores from nearby caves, learning their properties. Slowly, he discovered he could reinforce weapons with traces of hardened slime, giving them an edge far sharper than stone alone.
The goblins called them "Starblades," after the faint shimmer they carried in moonlight.
Every step forward filled them with pride. But every night, Luminus felt the weight of invisible eyes pressing from beyond the trees.
-----
At the same time, in Brindel…
A meeting was held in the guild's upper chamber. Serah, the guildmaster, and a select few senior adventurers sat around a heavy oak table.
"The decision has been made," the guildmaster announced. "We cannot risk letting this creature grow unchecked. A subjugation quest will be issued."
Serah's lips tightened. "And if it truly means no harm?"
"Then it dies harmless," he replied coldly. "Better a dead monster than a living threat."
The senior adventurers nodded grimly. Some were motivated by duty. Others, by the promise of a high bounty.
Within days, the notice would spread to every tavern wall, every guild board:
"Subjugation Request: Eliminate the 'Slime King' rumored to control monsters in the Great Forest. Reward: 1,000 gold."
Back in the forest…
That same night, Luminus sat alone by the river. The water reflected the stars, endless and untouchable.
"Was this what fate meant?" he murmured. "To be born again… only to be hunted?"
The river gave no answer. But in the silence, he remembered his old life—the city streets, the loneliness, the way his existence had ended so suddenly. Back then, he had no power, no choice.
Here, he had both.
And he would not let it be stolen from him again.
A soft rustle broke his thoughts. Mira approached, placing a hand on his arm. "You carry too much alone," she whispered.
Luminus looked at her, then at the stars again. "Then I'll carry it with all of you. Whatever comes, we'll face it together."
Mira smiled faintly, the firelight in her eyes. "Then no matter what humans bring… we will endure."
------
Far away, in the guild tavern…
Elira sat alone, her staff resting against the table. She had argued against the subjugation order, but no one had listened. The others in her party had accepted the reward eagerly.
Her heart ached with doubt.
"I know what I saw," she whispered to herself. "It wasn't evil."
But in this world, her voice was only one among hundreds. And the tide of greed was stronger than her conviction.
She closed her eyes, praying silently that the slime in the forest—Luminus—would survive what was coming.
Because war was no longer a possibility.
It was inevitable.