"Slimes?"
The Xirik cultists hid in the shadows of Coral Lane's buildings, watching the slime adventurers that had charged in with the adventurer squads, their eyes flickering.
But their targets were clear. They slipped past the front-line Metal Slime, daggers tracing through drifting shadows, aiming to stab the elf companions behind it.
"Captain...?!"
The elf mage sensed a cold murderous intent from behind and cried out, only having time to cast a shield on herself.
"Your opponent is Bem!"
Big Brother Slime's soft, buzzing voice rang in the attackers' minds.
The next moment, the round, supposedly slow Metal Slime shot forward like a launched cannonball and slammed into the back of the cultist attempting the assassination.
Crack!!
The tremendous impact blacked his vision, his chest's blood and qi surged, and worst of all, his neck felt as if it had been torn—clearly broken.
He flew like a rag, smashed heavily onto the ground several meters away, twitched a few times, and fell silent.
The other cultists' hearts froze. They tried to ambush the rear-line mages or priests, but human warriors and dwarf shieldguards who had expected this repelled them.
They prowled like wolves hidden in the alley's darkness, constantly shifting to seek a perfect opening.
However, with that small-seeming Metal Slime blocking them, in such a narrow lane they absolutely could not use the flexibility and tactics of assassins.
Their glances met in the gloom, the cultists seeing the thoughts in one another's eyes; they had to admit they had underestimated these slime adventurers.
At the very least, this Metal Slime's insane physical resistance, combined with a flexibility and combat instinct that did not match its round body, made finding an opening extremely difficult.
Besides, this slime seemed to be the team's core.
After exchanging looks, a dozen figures moved at once, dodging the elf mage's occasional fireballs and ice spikes. Daggers became cold streaks, leaving shadow trails as they all lunged at the Metal Slime.
[Wounding Art]
These were physical, razor-sharp stabs combined with corrosive shadow energy. They believed the Metal Slime, with almost no magic resistance, could not withstand such targeted attacks.
Hum!
What the cultists did not expect was that Big Brother Slime had once been the Slime Kingdom's mounted slime captain of the monster legions; he had followed His Majesty through almost every major war and been battle-tested.
He had faced barrage attacks from the Border Corps' mage squads and fought desperately against human cavalry charges, and he had overcome those enemies.
And now was no different.
This was the confidence of the strongest Silver-rank slime besides Slime Majesty himself.
It did not even need to dodge.
Its round metallic body suddenly... burst into roaring flames across its surface, instantly engulfing the incoming cold blades and shadows.
The shadow energy fizzled and dissipated the moment it touched the low-temperature flames.
"How?!"
The Xirik cultists were horrified. Before they could figure out why that Metal Liam—no, that metal slime—seemed to command elemental magic, the adventurer squads launched a fierce counterattack.
Hidden Xirik operatives emerged from stealth; daggers traced hot, ruthless arcs, and one cut the neck of a Stone Descendant cultist without mercy.
Blood spurted!
The cultist couldn't even clutch his gushing neck in time. Instinctively trying to slip back into the shadows, he was sent tumbling out by a Stone Descendant assassin's heavy petrified body.
Then a short blade drove him hard onto a nearby wall, pinning him.
As fellow shadow assassins, the Stone Descendants knew the strengths and weaknesses of shadow practitioners and even possessed petrification power to compensate for fragile physiques.
The Stone Descendant who charged into the assassins became a berserker unafraid of injury, unleashing a massacre. To him, the Xirik cultists who relied on shadows and trickery were a joke.
Meanwhile, with human warriors and dwarf shieldguards firmly protecting the elf mage as she cast, Big Brother Slime had no reservations.
He no longer stayed put; he transformed into a morning-star-like form and stormed into enemy lines, engaging the shadow assassins in brutal close combat.
He used his body's excellent elasticity to bounce rapidly off alley walls and floors; every impact was heavy and crushing, leaving the cultists attempting to surround him flustered.
When fighting assassins head-on, he raised his small round shield to block incoming daggers, and like a seasoned warrior used his short sword to duel the Xirik cultists.
One cultist, relying on nimble footwork, tried to circle around and strike the side. Big Brother Slime remained calm, angling his round shield to deflect the dagger. His heavy metallic body suddenly side-butted like a battering ram into the cultist's chest.
The cultist grunted and flew back, slamming into the wall and sliding down, ribs perhaps broken.
Another cultist leapt down from an eave in shadow, dagger aimed at Big Brother Slime's head. He didn't even look up. He slapped his short sword upward to catch the dagger, rolled his round body backward to dodge another incoming strike, then batted the attacker's ankle with his shield, making the assailant stumble.
Then he simply trampled over him.
These Xirik cultists, experts in ambushes and assassinations, had never met such a stubborn fighter and were beaten back step by step, becoming dismayed.
Their pride in shadow techniques seemed pale and powerless in narrow alley combat against this unpredictable Metal Slime.
Elsewhere, other adventurer squads confronted cultists trying to flee or resist. The Slime Mage waved a small staff, launching volley after volley of fireballs. Scorching flames ravaged the alley, forcing would-be shadow-hiders to scatter.
Under the pressure from the adventurer squads, the situation tilted decisively.
Some local adventurer teams, who had rushed from Misty Bay Harbor's Adventurer's Guild expecting a fierce battle and prepared for casualties, arrived to help. But when they charged into Coral Lane and saw the scene, they awkwardly halted at the alley mouth, staring at each other.
Their grip on weapons loosened, tightened, loosened again—faces complicated. They half-thought they didn't need to intervene; these cultists might be cleaned up by those slimes and their allies without their help.
On a higher eave, Nilly and the envoy named Liam were in a chase.
Each time Nilly emerged from shadow and slashed her dagger with icy killing intent toward Liam, he managed by instinct to slip by and kept running without looking back, refusing to be pinned down.
"Don't run, come on, why don't we duel? Slash each other once, how about that?" Nilly shouted as she chased.
Liam kept fleeing full out, as if he hadn't heard her.
He had seen the petrification power of the Stone Descendants, a force that made any close attacker pay dearly. The shadows hiding behind the girl were unusual, like an abyss—impossible to fathom and seeming to devour his soul if he approached.
"Fine, I'll take a loss, let you stab me an extra time!" Nilly kept taunting.
Right after she said it, she saw Liam suddenly stop running and stand motionless, back turned to her, as if agreeing.
Before she closed the distance, the gel clone on his shoulder calmly wobbled and gelled out: "Just an illusion. He's behind you."
Nilly's eyes narrowed and her body squatted instinctively in an instant.
A cold blade shaved past her scalp, its edge catching the surprised look on Liam's face. He hadn't expected the girl not only to see through his shadow illusions but also to dodge in... that manner. Because of Nilly's small height, the trick actually worked.
By the time Liam reacted, Nilly had already sprung up, dagger in both hands, driving the shadow blade into his heart.
Liam staggered backward repeatedly, but his face showed little pain. His gaze remained calm, and no blood flowed from the wound where the shadow dagger struck. The dagger seemed to pierce into a dense darkness that quickly dissolved; the wound revealed only warped pitch-black.
This made the gel clone recall the Border Corps commander who had offered his soul to a demon and whose body had seemed filled with strange matter.
Liam began chanting in a low voice: "Ancient hero spirits... please offer your strength to the New Sun..."
[Dark Art]
[Soul Summoning]
With his chant, a thick darkness suddenly spread from him. This darkness seemed alive and began to swallow the surrounding holy light.
Light and dark clashed violently with a sound; the Holy Light formation's radiance dimmed noticeably, constricted to a smaller area.
Within this dark-shrouded zone, shadows on the ground twisted and skeletons in tattered armor, holding rusted weapons, crawled slowly out of the gloom.
Their eye sockets burned with ghostly green flames; the shadows seemed to cloak them, making their silhouettes flicker in obscurity.
"Silver-rank undead?!"
Silver undead in numbers—this was a terrifying force. Though they moved slowly, they forced the adventurers to retreat again and again.
Just as Kane said, the Merchant Alliance council wasn't a solid whole and was inefficient. Even now, apart from some ordinary guards and warriors, no true Extraordinary professionals had arrived to handle what was clearly a cult-related danger.
"What a strange spell..." Nilly frowned as she continued pursuing Liam, unable to understand how he could wield such powerful magic.
Liam remained silent, still running, and tried to use the chaos from the undead to destroy key magic nodes that maintained the formation.
With the undead's help, the Xirik cultists finally caught their breath and reorganized. With the undead covering them, they turned to encircle several adventurer squads.
The adventurers had to fall back, back to back, forming a small defensive circle. The elf mage, pale-faced, asked, "Captain... what do we do?"
Big Brother Slime hopped forward, his little face resolute—just as in countless previous battles against powerful foes—he threw his round body between his teammates and danger without hesitation.
The sight, though small, brought comfort. He raised his short sword and, like a legion commander, spoke in a soft but firm voice: "All warriors... fall in!"
Under the bewildered gaze of the local adventurers, the Slime Warriors rose up, looking like death-defying fighters worthy of respect.
"Hahaha, we can't let a bunch of slimes look down on us." The local warriors tightened their grips, preparing to join the fight.
Then they witnessed a strange scene.
The Slime Warriors following Big Brother Slime heaved, their round gel bodies swelling violently as ripples of unstable mana appeared across their surfaces and their colors began to shift.
[Gel Mimicry]
[Dragon Bloodline]
Under the adventurers' stunned eyes, their bodies stretched and reshaped like living clay—elongated necks, metallic-feel scales, unfolded membranous wings, thick tails, even vague dragon head outlines.
Soon the dozen or so slimes mimicked into tiny gel wyverns. They beat gel wings, emitting roars like young dragons, exuding faint Dragon's Aura, and charged into the undead horde, launching brutal slaughter.
Slimes turning into dragons?!
A previously unseen slime variety, slimes could become dragons?
The adventurers were incredulous.
"Didn't expect this, did you? We even have Dragon Slimes."
Elara stepped out from the shadows after killing a silver undead, smugly chin-up at the Xirik cultists.
Behind her, Leon and Max also emerged among the undead.
Silver Dragon Slimes fought very differently from ordinary slimes. Though miniature, they were strong and extremely agile.
Their main attacks were sharp bites and slashes, or spraying gel acid to corrode enemies. Their scales had solid physical and magical resistance; the gel body absorbed blunt force and tearing well, quickly recovering even if hit by the undead's rusted weapons.
"Brothers, charge!" "Tear them apart."
With the Dragon Slimes' aid, the adventurers quickly counterattacked, driving back the silver undead and reducing them to scattered piles of bone.
At the underground church's exit, commotion arose as Casimir finally led Sun Church followers charging out of the shadow portal.
"Praise Slime Majesty!" Casimir raised his arm and proclaimed loudly.
"Praise the holy Messiah!" his followers chanted and prayed as they cast spells.
Once they joined the battle, the Xirik cultists were ultimately defeated—killed or captured.
Seeing this, Liam knew annihilation was inevitable and stopped running. He stood on an eave watching the cultists and undead being cleared below and the enemies closing in from all sides, and surprisingly raised both hands.
"Respected assassin lady, I surrender."
He knew full well that owing to some hidden connections between the church and certain council members, even if imprisoned he'd likely be released through "legal" means soon.
However, the furious Sun Church followers cared nothing for that. Seeing Liam—the obvious heretical leader—try to surrender inflamed their anger.
"In the name of Ignis, in the name of the Messiah, purify him!"
"Heretics are unforgivable!"
"Destroy him!"
Holy fire, sunflame beams—various sun god spells poured down like a storm, completely engulfing Liam on the eave.
Holy light consumed that area; along with the remaining darkness and shadows around him, everything was purified cleanly.
When the light faded, the eave bore only a charred black mark and a few wisps of ash drifting in the wind.
Nilly spread her hands in mock regret, as if to say it wasn't her doing.
In truth, whether she had moved a finger or not, no one really knew.
The gel clone bounced and looked at Casimir, realizing that those who had glowed white with faith earlier were indeed Sun Church worshippers. He marveled at how Casimir had managed to preach to a contingent of Sun followers and actually recruit them.
No wonder he was a Bishop of the Great Slime Religion. The gel clone happily thought.
Counting carefully, the Great Slime Religion seemed to have the scale of a small church now and had produced a cleric.
It suddenly realized the Great Slime Religion's prospects might actually be pretty good.