The chaos I had orchestrated was a symphony of my own design. I watched from a high branch, a ghost in my own home, as the human adventurers stumbled and swore, their frustration a sweet melody to my ears. Brutus, the leader, swung his massive sword at the rustling leaves of a camouflaged Mossy, the blade carving a wide swath of nothingness through the air. The young man with the polished armor, his name I still didn't know, tried to pull his foot free from a spot where Bubbles had used his Adhesion skill, but the slime had done his work well. The man's leg was stuck fast to the mossy ground.
"By the gods, what sorcery is this?!" Brutus roared, his face turning a shade of crimson that clashed with the scabs on his cheeks. "Is this the work of a phantom? A damned forest spirit?"
"I don't think so, Brutus," Korvin, the woman with the crossbow, said, her voice surprisingly calm despite the panic in her eyes. Unlike her companions, she wasn't swinging her weapon wildly. She was observing. Her gaze swept over the ground, lingering on the patches of wet soil left by Bubbles's water attacks, and the singed spots from Ember's fireballs. "Look at the ground. It's not magic. It's... physical. Something is here."
My stomach tightened. I had underestimated her. Most humans in my experience were quick to jump to the conclusion of magic or a ghost, too blinded by their own fear to see the truth. Korvin, however, was a threat. She wasn't looking at the chaos; she was looking at the patterns within it.
I sent a quick mental command to Bubbles, a signal to be more subtle, to not leave such obvious trails. He responded with a soft, comforting hum, letting me know he understood.
Brutus, his patience frayed to a thread, finally managed to get the map unstuck from the branch, but not without tearing it in two. "Fine!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the trees. "It's a monster! I don't care if it's a forest spirit or a dragon, it's not getting in our way. Stick together! We'll find this creature and slay it, then continue on our path to the Grove!"
The young man with the shiny armor, who I now heard them call "Felix," freed his foot and dusted himself off. He glanced at Brutus with a hint of concern. "Slay it? Sir, if it can do all this unseen, what if it's an ambush from an entire tribe of goblins?"
"It's just one, you fool," Brutus scoffed, but a sliver of doubt flickered in his eyes. "I saw its reflection. A pale, shiny thing, moving too fast to track. It's a Lesser-level monster, maybe a mid-level if it's old. Nothing we can't handle together."
My heart skipped a beat. A Lesser-level monster. That was me. Or, more accurately, my smallest and oldest slime, Bubbles. He had just described a Lesser Water Slime, not the cunning, strategic force that was Drex. My lanky frame was a liability, but in my mind's eye, with my slimes, I was the most powerful thing in this forest.
They changed their tactics. Instead of fanning out, they formed a tight defensive circle. Brutus stood at the front, his sword held at the ready. Korvin backed him up, her crossbow aimed at the treeline, her gaze sharp and intelligent. Felix, the short-sworded man, stood guard at the rear. The three of them moved forward as a single, deliberate unit, their heavy footsteps no longer hurried but cautious and measured.
My simple strategy of harassment was no longer enough. I needed to adapt.
I gave the order. Mossy, still camouflaged, used his Minor Earth Manipulation skill. The ground beneath their feet began to soften, turning from firm earth into a spongy, difficult bog. Their boots sank into the mud with a disgusting squelch. At the same time, Ember began to use his Heat Absorption skill, sucking the warmth from the air around them. The once pleasant morning turned frigid, and a thin, unnatural layer of frost began to form on their armor.
"The cold! What is this?" Brutus's teeth chattered.
"My hands… I can't feel my fingers," Felix muttered, trying to tighten his grip on his shield.
Korvin, however, narrowed her eyes. She wasn't looking at the frost. She was looking at the faint trail of glowing, multicolored slime left by the Gemstone Grove. A tiny, almost imperceptible detail I had missed. She was following the trail of mana crystals that my slimes shed, a sort of breadcrumb trail I had unknowingly been leaving for her to follow. My blood ran cold for the second time that day. The slimes' mana was a natural part of their bodies, and their trail would lead the adventurers straight to my home.
Korvin didn't say a word. She raised her crossbow, but instead of aiming at the surrounding trees, she aimed at a specific patch of undergrowth. It was the same spot where Ember had just been moments ago, the ground still radiating a faint coolness. She was going by the evidence, by the rules of this world, not by superstition. She was hunting a creature, not a ghost.
My mind raced. I couldn't let her. If she found the Gemstone Grove, they would tear it apart. My slimes would be at risk. My hands, so unsuited for combat, were useless, but my mind was not. I had to create a diversion, a big one. I gave the command for Ember to launch a full Fireball. Not a fizzling distraction, but a full-fledged, powerful attack. Ember's little body glowed a brilliant crimson as he gathered mana.
The fireball soared through the air, a burning sphere of brilliant orange, and exploded harmlessly against a boulder far to their left. The noise was deafening, the light blinding. For a moment, the three humans were paralyzed by the sheer power of the attack. It was meant to scare them, to drive them away, and it seemed to work. They all flinched, their attention finally diverted.
All of them, that is, except for Korvin.
While her two companions stared, she used her chance. She adjusted her aim, not at the location of the fireball, but at the place where the sound had originated. She sighted the faint shimmer in the air where Ember had been. I didn't have time to warn him.
Twang!
A crossbow bolt, tipped with a razor-sharp metal head, sang through the air. The sound was horribly clear. The bolt didn't miss. It struck Ember, not in the center of his body, but in the gelatinous side, lodging deep in his gooey form.
The thwump was sickening. Ember's shimmering crimson form shuddered. The ethereal blue Interface beside him flared violently, then turned red, showing a single, terrible word.
Status: Injured
A wave of pain, a shared jolt through our connection, slammed into my mind. It was a pain I had never felt before, a pain that was not my own but felt as real as a broken bone. A low, keening sound, almost like a whimper, escaped Ember's body. He pulsed once, weakly, then collapsed into a small, quivering puddle of crimson goo, the crossbow bolt sticking out of his form like a grotesque trophy.
My sanctuary had been violated. My peace had been shattered. Now, my friend had been hurt. All because of a group of greedy men who wanted to take my home. My hands, which had only known how to nurture my slimes, now clenched into fists, shaking with a rage I had never felt before.
This wasn't a game anymore. This was a war.