"I... I, This Slime will never surrender, for the King's glory!"
When Jiggu heard Molok talk about surrendering, some courage sprang up from nowhere. He leaped from Molok's bosom onto his shoulder, spat out his little short sword, and brandished it at the pursuing orcs behind them, his soft, sticky voice trembling.
"Y-you... stop chasing us, I'm really powerful!"
The two sides gradually stopped running and faced each other tensely in the snow-covered conifer clearing.
A cold wind slipped through the branches and bit their faces, carrying the chill. They gripped their weapons tightly, breath condensing into white mist in the frigid air.
But clearly, the orc legion held an overwhelming numerical advantage, and their savage momentum pressed down like a heavy tide. When the orcs heard Jiggu's "threat," they froze for a moment, then burst into mocking laughter.
"Hahaha, cowardly slime blob!"
"I'll smash it flat with one swing." Another orc soldier brandished a bone club and bared his fangs in a grin.
Groln signaled with a wave, and two orc warriors carrying heavy spiked clubs stepped forward. They tramped through the snow with heavy footsteps, coming closer to Jiggu step by step.
"Master Jiggu, we should—" He lowered his voice, trying to warn him again.
"No... no need to say anything!" Jiggu's voice trembled more, but it did something unexpected.
He jumped down from Molok's shoulder, landed in the snow, and because of his nervousness rolled several times before steadying himself. Then he scrambled up and pointed his little short sword at the approaching orcs, shouting to Molok and the other wildlings, "My students, run! This Slime will hold them off here!"
"But—" Molok hadn't finished when the two orc warriors were already snarling and charging with their spiked clubs raised.
"Eeeh, This Slime will fight you to the end!" Jiggu squeezed his small eyes shut in fear, his gel body compressing into a tight ball.
He could only rely on instinct and trained reflexes, bouncing forward and wildly brandishing his little short sword.
The leading orc warrior saw this presumptuous slime daring to charge and lifted his heavy boot to stomp down.
But at the instant his boot was about to land, the seemingly random swing of the little short sword flashed cold light and precisely sliced across his legs.
[Precise Thrust]
The sharp short sword easily tore the orc's rough skin and the vessels underneath. Dark red blood sprayed out, scattering eye-catching red dots across the white snow.
The orc warrior screamed, lost his balance, and his massive body crashed to his knees in the snow, clutching his bleeding ankle as he writhed in pain.
"Mm?"
Jiggu wobbled his gel body, staring at the little short sword in his hand in disbelief.
? He seemed... actually pretty good?
The smiles froze on the faces of the surrounding orcs, slowly being replaced by caution. No one expected the soft-looking slime to possess combat skills.
Groln's eyes flickered with satisfaction; he had suspected something odd about these slimes.
This slime was probably the strongest of these wildlings; the earlier timidity must have been a disguise.
He waved his hand and said in a low voice, "Barun, we respect every true warrior. Give him the warrior's glory."
"Yes, Chen Yu, sir."
A burly, tall orc shoved past his comrades and strode forward carrying a double-headed battle axe.
His name was Barun, a famed elite warrior of the Frostbone Tribe. Many called him "Skullsplitter" Barun, meaning his strength could split a prey's skull barehanded.
His eyes locked on the small green slime in the snow as he rumbled, "A warrior of the Slime clan... are you ready to meet death?"
No sooner had he spoken than his bulging arms tensed, the massive double axe gusting a savage wind as it came down toward Jiggu's head.
[Powerful Cleave]
The aura of an elite professional slammed forward.
Jiggu felt his gel almost blown apart by that terrifying wind. Fear robbed him of thought, but body memory and long training kicked in. He used the elasticity of his gel body to bounce to the side and rear.
Boom! The giant axe slammed into the snow where Jiggu had just been, flinging snow and earth, leaving a deep pit.
Jiggu, having narrowly escaped, was still terrified, but his survival drive made him counterattack instinctively, stabbing his short sword again at Barun's calf.
"Hm?" Barun was surprised—this slime not only dodged his attack, it dared strike back?
He swung his thick arm; the great axe cleaved horizontally and slammed Jiggu and his little short sword away.
Jiggu tumbled across the snow like a green ball, rolling several times, caked in white and mud, looking thoroughly bedraggled.
"Master Jiggu!" The other wildlings pumped with fervor and were about to rush forward to help.
Molok held them back, eyes fixed on the struggling green figure getting back up: "Trust me, this is part of Master Jiggu's trial."
On the field, Barun gave Jiggu no time to breathe and attacked with the axe again.
His assault was filled with orcish brute force and brutality, each strike heavy and mighty, trying to crush the opponent with absolute power.
Under his relentless pursuit, Jiggu fled clumsily, using the elasticity of his gel and his small size to narrowly dodge one deadly blow after another.
After several exchanges, Jiggu's fear eased somewhat. The orc in front of him began to look more like a big, strong beast than an invincible terror.
A thought suddenly popped into his head.
He might actually have a chance to beat him.
Confidence sprouted.
He began to perceive Barun's movement trajectories more clearly. That purely brute-force attack pattern gradually took on a traceable rhythm in his perception.
Another great axe sweep came; this time Jiggu didn't retreat. He suddenly contracted his gel, then sprang up like a coiled spring.
[Slime Ejection]
He landed on the axe blade, using that brief pivot to spring again, swinging his little short sword in a high leap to strike Barun's face.
"Yahaha!"
Barun hadn't expected this bronze-grade slime to dodge his attack and could only retreat in panic, instinctively raising his arm clad in crude metal vambrace to block.
Clang!
A crisp metallic clash rang through the forest, sparks flying where the short sword met the vambrace.
What troubled Barun more was the surprising force behind Jiggu's strike. He felt his arm go numb and his heavy body involuntarily stagger back several steps, leaving deep prints in the snow.
Still, he had managed to block and reached to grab Jiggu.
In that instant, Barun in front of Jiggu vanished. In the flashing sparks he seemed to see his younger self, hiding behind a great slime, struggling to wedge out a tiny head, his small eyes bright as he stared forward.
There, a tall, verdant figure led the clan out of the dark, dangerous dungeon toward the surface—full of unknowns but also full of hope.
That was their King, the hero who led them out of hardship to create a kingdom for slimes above ground.
He would never forget that glowing heroic silhouette, nor the oath he had quietly sworn in his heart then.
To guard their King, to guard this hard-won home, as human knights guarded their kingdoms.
He could be afraid, but he must never back down; he must never... dishonor the King's glory!
Scenes of harsh training in the Swamp Forest flashed through his mind—being bullied by moss monsters and running away, and the moment he won his warrior medal.
At this moment, all those experiences and beliefs transformed into power and erupted from deep within him.
"For the King!" he shouted inwardly.
[Courage Aura]
An almost imperceptible magical radiance rippled outward from Jiggu. He felt his body swell for an instant; strength surged like a spring.
Barun in his eyes was no longer terrifying.
He swung his short sword again.
The short sword struck the vambrace once more, a shrill metallic tearing, and the crude vambrace was split open by the short sword, leaving a wound on Barun's thick arm.
Dark red blood gushed out.
Barun grunted, clutching his bleeding arm and stumbling backward several steps, looking at Jiggu with newfound gravity.
"Silver Slime?" he spat through his teeth, not daring to advance lightly.
"Enough!" Groln's patience finally snapped.
"Wolf riders, crush them!"
The frost wolves, long restrained, howled excitedly and pressed forward in a semi-circle containment, spiked clubs and scimitars aimed at Jiggu.
"Molok, get out of here!"
Jiggu's small body stood firm at the front, signaling them to flee quickly.
Only then did Molok hurry to speak: "Master Jiggu, actually what I wanted to say earlier was... His Majesty is here."
"The King is here?" Jiggu's small eyes showed confusion as he instinctively looked up at the sky.
The orcs sensed the odd shift too and followed suit, looking up as well.
Groln's gaze pierced the sparse conifer branches toward the bright sky.
At first there were just a few black dots, but soon those dots rapidly grew larger, their outlines sharpening...
His pupils contracted violently, the color draining from his face in an instant as if plunged into an ice cellar; his whole body chilled.
What was that?
A giant dragon, jet-black from head to tail!
Even from that distance, its suffocating Dragon's Aura could be felt.
Behind the black dragon flew a dozen massive snow eagles.
When he barely managed to push through the veil of fear and made out the tall green figure riding the black dragon's back, only one thought remained in Groln's mind.
It's over...
Who would have thought slimes could tame dragons, even if it was only a young one.
"Retreat! Fall back!" Groln roared, using every ounce of strength in a trembling howl.
But it was already too late.
Little Ka let out a youthful cry and dove down. The fierce wind from its massive body blew the forest snow into a swirling blizzard, snapping branches and scattering leaves.
It crashed down on the path where the orc legion was trying to flee, the earth trembling and their escape route blocked.
At the same time, the dozen giant snow eagles circled and shrieked; one dove down.
On the snow eagle's back stood a tall, spear-wielding Lizardfolk warrior.
It was Semiaya.
She stood on the eagle's back, taller and more upright than ordinary Lizardfolk, muscles flowing with explosive power without looking exaggerated.
Her gaze was cold as ice, locked onto Groln in the crowd.
Semiaya leapt into the orc ranks like a tiger into a flock of sheep. Facing the panicked orcs' flailing defenses, her spear became a blur; every thrust found gaps in their armor and pierced through bodies.
She moved through the enemy like a reaper dancing on a blade. Wherever she passed, orcs fell.
Groln raged, swinging his great hammer and roaring as he charged in, trying to overwhelm her with brute force.
But Semiaya's steps were light and swift. Using battle-honed technique, she thrust, hooked, and deflected, turning aside Groln's blows one by one.
Compared to spring, after the harsh trials of the snow mountains, her strength, speed, and combat awareness had all grown to a new level.
Now she stood at the pinnacle of the Silver-tier huntresses.
After a few exchanges, Groln not only failed to suppress Semiaya, but was driven into confusion by her cunning counterattacks. Several new wounds marked his body; blood stained his iron breastplate.
Then Semiaya skewered him through the chest and sent him flying backward, slamming him hard into the snow. His hammer flew from his hand.
He tried to struggle up, but a cold spear pressed against his throat.
Orc morale collapsed; frost wolves whimpered and scattered. The battle turned one-sided, and the mêlée quickly ended under the pressure of the black dragon and snow eagles.
After the dragon riders cleaned up the field, Semiaya dragged Groln by the chest and kneeled him in front of Chen Yu.
Molok, clutching Jiggu, hurried over with the wildling warriors behind him. They were excited facing the green figure seated on the black dragon.
Chen Yu appraised Jiggu, whose title had just changed from "Slime Warrior" to "Brave One," and gave his gel body an approving wobble, praising, "A fine countertrap and a very brave performance, Jiggu. You did well."
"For... for the King!" Hearing praise from the King himself, Jiggu was so thrilled he nearly fainted. Little joyful bubbles popped all over him as he bounced happily in Molok's arms.
At that moment Semiaya approached, took a piece of jerky from a leather pouch at her waist, and handed it to Chen Yu: "Envoy, this was found on those orcs."
"They call it the Returner's Boon. When a frost wolf eats it, it temporarily gains increased magical power."
"The Returner?"
Chen Yu suddenly recalled some ancient records mentioning that long ago, a branch of orcs, dissatisfied with the harsh cold and scarcity of the tundra, left for unknown lands further north in search of the fabled 'Ice-free Port.'
Could those orcs have not only survived in the north but prospered, and now returned to the tundra?
Semiaya nodded decisively and added, "While Sekashi was training in the snow mountains, I watched the orc movements closely."
She had indeed found that compared to previous years, the tribes coming south this year had many new armors and weapons. Though crudely made, they were clearly not forged by the tundra orcs themselves.
Northern orcs returning.
This was huge news.
If true, the northern threat might be more than periodic raiding; it could be a substantial change.
But Chen Yu was more curious about another matter: "Why didn't Sekashi come back with you?"
At the mention of Sekashi, Semiaya hesitated, collecting her words, then slowly replied, "Envoy, the situation at the snow mountain sanctuary is unusual. You may need to go there personally to see."