Riftrock Pass.
The collapsed ruins of the mine lay like a massive scar, stretching deep into the pass. The slaves still worked numbingly under the overseers’ whipping, hunched over as they carried heavy stones.
At the edge of the camp, the flap of a tent was violently thrown open. Several human mercenaries stumbled backward, faces full of fear, then cursed as they hurriedly disappeared down the trail leading out.
Hammerbone’s large silhouette crawled out of the tent, his thick arms crossed over his chest. He watched the fleeing mercenaries and emitted a low snort through his nose.
“They took the legion’s bounty, botched the job, and still have the nerve to ask for more. Humans have thicker hides than fortress walls.”
A goblin shaman in a filthy robe hurried up, rubbing his hands and chuckling nervously. “You’re right, my lord. These humans can’t be trusted at all.”
“I think they pocketed the coins themselves, then made up stories about an Undead Lord or subdrakes to cover it up. That Eastern Swamp is trash. What decent loot could be there? Probably just some low-grade slimes.”
Before he finished, Hammerbone’s rough hand shot out and scooped him up like a chick, hauling him in front of his face.
Hammerbone snorted through his nose and glared. “What do you mean by that? Are you saying I can’t beat a few slimes?”
At the very mention of those slippery green shapes, an inexplicable irritation and headache washed over him.
Lately he’d dreamed, night after night, of being mocked by those slimes in ridiculous ways, then laughed at by everyone. He’d started to see annoyances in everything, especially the green-skinned goblins, who always set his teeth on edge and made him imagine them whispering behind his back.
For someone born proud, that suffocating shame and simmering anger hurt more than defeat.
The shaman flailed in the air, limbs paddling, panicking. “My lord Hammerbone, you misunderstand. I mean… those slimes must be odd, otherwise you wouldn’t have bothered to come yourself.”
Only then did Hammerbone seem satisfied. He dropped the shaman and slapped his palm, humming:
“That’s better. I’ll admit, those slippery things are indeed unusual.”
“It seems that swamp hides something significant, a real threat to the legion… But once the Army Commander finishes his trial, their good times will be over.”
In any case, the mighty Hammerbone would never admit he’d been bested by low-grade monsters.
There could only be one truth—the enemy must be some powerful monster disguised as slimes.
Thinking that cleared his head considerably.
The goblin shaman crawled back and asked cautiously, “So… Lord Hammerbone, should we just wait here and let them run rampant in the east?”
Had he not asked, Hammerbone might have stayed silent. But the question stung his pride and made his face redden.
He kicked a nearby empty wooden crate;
it shattered on impact.
“You’re not in charge of legion strategy. The Army Commander has surely arranged things.”
He swung his spiked hammer to regain momentum. “But if those impostors dare set a foot into the Western Swamp, I swear I’ll smash them one by one and expose what they really are.”
The shaman immediately agreed, “Lord Hammerbone is mighty. With you here, they won’t dare approach.”
Hammerbone raised his head, nodded with satisfaction, about to say more.
“It’s bad! It’s bad!”
Several goblin scouts rode back in on panicked giant lizards, bursting into the camp and scrambling to Hammerbone.
Hammerbone frowned displeased and grabbed the leading one. “What are you panicking for? Didn’t you see me standing here?”
The scout stammered incoherently, terrified. “It’s… it’s those slimes. They… they came to the Western Swamp!”
“Oh?” Hammerbone froze.
“And they’re building fortifications there, walls already partway up. Lots of beetles and slimes are working!”
The moment Hammerbone heard the word “slimes,” a fresh wave of humiliation rose in him and he snorted irritably.
Those sticky nuisances again.
Just thinking about them made his skin crawl.
Under the staring goblins, he suppressed the urge to smash every bit of green in front of him and forced his voice steady. “They’re only slimes. Watch me—”
He hadn’t finished when a leisurely, mocking voice sounded from a shadowed corner of the camp.
“Oh ho, look who it is. Our invincible General Hammerbone. How is it that a few slimes have you trembling as if before a great enemy? That’ll do wonders for the legion’s reputation.”
Hammerbone’s expression darkened as he slowly turned his head.
A tall figure in a tattered cloak lounged against a pile of junk, eyes peering from beneath a hood.
“Grumg.”
Hammerbone’s voice dropped. “You gutter-dweller—weren’t you supposed to be back in Golden Radiance Valley? Sneaking back like a mole—aren’t you afraid the Army Commander will find out?”
The figure called Grumg gave a low, hoarse chuckle, peeled back his hood, revealing a purplish ogre face. His eyes, however, betrayed a cunning that mismatched his brutish features.
“Heh heh… Great Casaric sees all. His will is as searing as a furnace. Unlike some who only have muscles and get toyed with by mere slimes, then need others to clean up the mess.”
“I’ve heard of your deeds in the valley, so I came back… to help. Shouldn’t you be thanking me?”
Hammerbone tightened his grip on his spiked hammer and grunted.
He and Grumg had a long-running feud.
It was obvious that Grumg was taunting him.
To Hammerbone, ogres were low creatures who couldn’t control their appetites;
a few months ago, one had stolen food from his subordinate. If the Army Commander hadn’t intervened, he would have smashed the ogre’s skull.
Sensing Hammerbone’s mood, two larger Bugbear Guards in legion-standard armor silently appeared behind Grumg, their cold gazes sweeping Hammerbone.
One spoke in a low voice, “Hammerbone, Grumg the Mage was invited back by the Army Commander to help with defense and repairs. Use your strength on real enemies and deal with the Western Swamp problem quickly.”
Hammerbone relaxed his fist and turned his face away, breathing hard.
Grumg snickered smugly and tidied his ragged robe that didn’t need tidying. “Brute force can’t solve everything, Hammerbone.”
“It seems we must rely on real intelligence to clean up the trash. Stay here and guard the place.”
Hammerbone kept his head down, and suddenly a rare spark lit up in his not-often-used mind.
Those slimes were strange—maybe he could use their power to teach this arrogant ogre a lesson.
Make him taste being haunted by nightmares.
Yes… thinking it through, it could work.
Haha!
Hammerbone had never admired his own cunning as much as he did now, for thinking of such a perfect plan.
He turned to appraise Grumg and launched a ruthless attack verbally. “You? You look like a gust of wind would knock you over, skinny as a dog starved three months. Where’s the bravery of an ogre warrior in you?”
“Don’t go halfway and get beat by slimes, wailing for Lord Hammerbone to save you. Don’t expect me to come running.”
Grumg’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
He saw through Hammerbone’s cheap provocation at a glance, but the contempt for brutes and his absolute confidence in his own cunning made him unable to tolerate such doubt.
“Hmph, foolish taunts.”
He grabbed a twisted wooden staff and his voice chilled. “Lead the way, General Hammerbone. I hope your ‘reputation’ hasn’t already scared those snot-monsters away by the time we get there.”
…
Riftrock Fortress construction site.
This patch of land, at the buffer zone between the swamp and goblin territory, had black-brown soil thick with marshy mud. Clumps of tall marsh ferns and expanses of yellowing and deep-green reed grass stubbornly grew around it.
Now, this place that once held only wind and insect noises showed unprecedented bustle.
Under the protection of the Poison-stinger Wasp legion, the Slime engineering teams had immediately begun construction as soon as they arrived.
A group of Metal Slimes, their bodies glinting silver-gray like living drill bits, spun rapidly and easily bored through the twisted shrubs and low trees that blocked vision and sunlight, producing rhythmic buzzing sounds.
They were highly efficient;
obstacles were cleared swiftly in their wake.
Then rows of Slime Engineers hopped across the cleared muddy ground.
They plopped along the way while seeping mana from their gel into the soil.
[Land Hardening]
The originally soft, sticky ground visibly hardened and leveled under magical influence, as if repeatedly rammed by an invisible mallet.
Soon a broad, sturdy work area was opened up.
To guard against goblin sneak attacks, the crew prioritized building a wall.
They used the swamp’s common boulders and hardwood, mixed with a special adhesive gel secreted by the slimes, and at astonishing speed raised an outpost.
Although modest in scale and not as impregnable as a true fortress, it could, at critical moments, barely hold all the slimes on site and keep them safe.
Next, the Metal Slime artillery crews and the Beetle engineers took the stage.
The Beetle engineers carefully unloaded the transported parts of the Goblin Ripper.
The Metal Slime artillery handled the parts like seasoned technicians, using their flexible bodies to precisely install the components into preset firing positions on the wall.
Click… buzz… as crystal sigils and talisman circuits connected, four battery arrays were soon mounted on the battlements.
Formation foundation spirit stones lit up in sequence, like constellations ignited against the swamp’s dim backdrop, shining ominously and lethally.
At the same time, from the temporary road cut through the Eastern Swamp, logistical support troops kept streaming in.
More slime workers, construction materials, and Poison-stinger Wasp squads for escort made the construction site even more vibrant.
Among the three planned new fortresses, Riftrock would face the Goblin Army directly, so its defenses were the strongest. Almost half of the territory’s Poison-stinger Wasps were patrolling here.
The temporary leader of this fortress’s defense was the Metal Slime Big Brother that had come from the dungeon.
After many enhancements by Chen Yu, its strength was no longer what it used to be.
Its metal shell now carried a darker, heavier argent sheen, and its size was larger than ordinary Metal Slimes.
More importantly, it had been fitted with Lv.4 Life Drain, Lv.4 Fire Resistance, and Lv.4 Resilient Carapace.
These upgrades boosted its endurance, compensated for Metal Slimes’ fear of fire, improved physical defense, and reduced magical damage taken.
Now it was comparable to a minor elite monster. Without a spellcaster ambush, ordinary elite melee units would find it hard to defeat.
Bearing responsibility for guarding comrades and the worksite, Metal Slime Big Brother dared not slack off.
It led a team of similarly but lightly enhanced Metal Slime guards, patrolling painstakingly along the newly built low stone wall.
Their round bodies rolled steadily on the hardened ground, metal shells reflecting the swamp’s gray sky as their alert gazes scanned every suspicious clump of grass and shadow.
“Plop… plap-plop…”
A few small Slime Engineers carrying stones hopped past them, cheerfully heading to raise the wall’s height.
Seeing this busy, lively scene and watching their kin no longer hide but build a home full of hope, a strong sense of pride swelled in Metal Slime Big Brother’s simple mind.
Who would have thought these slimes, once forced to lurk in dark corners and scorned as the lowest lifeforms, would one day stride in the sun and even build fortresses and a kingdom by themselves!
All thanks to their great King, who led them here.
Big Brother Slime felt deep reverence, but his patrol did not slow an inch.
Just as one patrol round was almost over and he thought the goblins wouldn’t trouble them today—
Rustle, rustle, rustle!
From the waist-high reed grass in a barren field ahead came an abnormal commotion.
The thick stalks shook violently, as if something zipped through them.
One after another, short, ugly green shapes parted the grass and burst out.
They brandished rough knives, axes, and clubs, faces greedy and ferocious, swarming out like locusts.
Goblins!
“Vzz—!!!”
Metal Slime Big Brother instantly emitted a sharp buzzing alarm. Its rounded body tensed and slammed heavily into the alarm bell hung on a nearby post.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The ear-piercing bell reverberated across the bustling site.
All the working slimes froze, eyes panicked, and under the guidance of the Metal Slime guards hurriedly “plop-plop” into the outpost.
No one had expected war to descend so suddenly.
On the barren field, reeds of yellow and deep green whispered as more goblins crawled out.
Behind them, the grass was violently shoved aside by a thick arm as Hammerbone’s towering figure emerged.
He carried his giant spiked hammer and peered suspiciously toward the field. When he saw what stood there, his eyes filled with shocked uncertainty.
A crude but structurally complete stone-and-wood outpost jutted from the ground like it had sprung up overnight, standing conspicuously in the clearing not far ahead.
A sentry post?
When did that appear…
His gaze climbed and fixed on the rows of Metal Slimes standing solemnly on the wall.
Those damned slimes again.
Damn it—how did they quietly erect this outpost within a single day?
As he pondered, Grumg pushed aside the last reeds and strolled up beside him. “General Hammerbone, looks like your Riftrock defense isn’t so great. Those lowly gel-creatures built a sentry right under your nose, and you didn’t notice until they finished.”
Hammerbone instinctively wanted to protest and say the thing hadn’t been there this morning. But the thought of setting up a trick on a comrade cleared the clogged gears of his mind, oddly making him feel clever and boosting his wits.
So he swallowed his words, merely snorting, and kept the truth to himself.
Seeing Hammerbone’s reaction, Grumg didn’t see through his bluff and felt even more convinced.
That thickheaded fellow hadn’t noticed his own doorstep being snatched.
He could already imagine how he would color the report back to the Army Commander and watch Hammerbone’s status in the legion plummet.
Both massive men, each hiding ulterior motives, reached a strange tacit agreement and moved toward the outpost.
Before Hammerbone could think of how to start, Grumg stepped forward first.
He straightened his tattered robe, lifted his head, and in goblin speech slowly addressed the slimes on the wall.
“You’ve got some nerve. Don’t you know the Western Swamp belongs to our Goblin Army? A few snotlings dare occupy our land.”
Though he spoke boldly, he prudently stayed behind a few stunned goblins.
He knew Hammerbone’s true power and didn’t actually believe a few low monsters could beat him.
That slimes had organizational ability and mobilization looked to this veteran mage like the work of some powerful monster controlling them.
He needed to be careful.
On the wall, after listening to the purple hulking ogre jabber below, the slimes seemed to collectively hiccup for a second.
They bounced and turned, looking at one another with big puzzled eyes.
“Funny creature.”
“Is that goblin language? I can’t understand.”
“Looks like goblin allies?”
“Hit him?”
“Hit him!”
After a few simple exchanges, the slimes quickly reached a consensus.