‘That voice... is that Charlotte?’
In the blink of an eye, Irene quickened her pace. Her chainsword materialized in her hand, and in less than a second, she went from a slow walk to a full sprint, dashing out of the passage with an elegant leap.
Her boots skidded against the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust as she came to a sudden halt, her brilliant golden slit pupils scanning the area ahead with vigilance.
The chainsword in her hand roared and buzzed, ready to deliver a fatal blow to any enemy at a moment's notice.
But when she saw the scene before her, Irene's eyes went blank, and the expression on her face instantly froze. Her tensed muscles gradually relaxed, and the roaring chainsword slowly stopped vibrating as she cut off the flow of mana.
She just stood there, completely dazed.
“Mother, what happened?” Arthas asked as he rushed up behind her. Seeing Irene's state, his urgent footsteps slowed. When he received no response, he walked past her to the corner and peered inside.
He saw Christine, who had already changed out of his previous outfit and into a greenish ranger's attire. However, his clothes were in disarray, leaving a large expanse of snowy-white skin exposed. He was currently squatting on the ground with his back to them, cradling a blue, jelly-like object in his arms and rubbing his face against it repeatedly.
Seeing that the blue slime in his arms was about to be squished to the point of bursting by the two “fellow slimes” on Christine's chest, Arthas glanced at his mother's rather sour expression. He sheathed Frostmourne on his back and asked in a lowered voice, “Miss Charlotte, what are you doing...?”
“Huh?” Christine turned his head. He seemed to have only just noticed Irene and Arthas's arrival. Recalling his scream from earlier, he quickly realized what had happened. He scratched his head in embarrassment and stuck out his tongue.
“I'm fine, don't worry about me. It's just that while I was changing, this little guy suddenly jumped out of the dark and startled me.”
“You won't believe it, but with the current state of the Underdark, there's actually an uninfected slime here! What a lucky little guy!”
“Mu-yi!” Seizing the brief moment when Christine's grip loosened, the slime—which had been squeezed so hard in his embrace that it was almost molded into the shape of his cleavage—slithered out of his arms like a bar of wet soap. It plopped onto the ground and scurried away, letting out frantic “mu-yi, mu-yi” squeaks as it hopped toward the dark depths of the passage where the fluorescent moss was scarce.
Suddenly feeling his arms empty, Christine turned around and saw the “giant blue jelly” hastily hopping away. He quickly got up to give chase, shouting, “Hey! Dung Ball, don't run...!”
But before he could finish his sentence, Irene suddenly walked over, grabbed him by the back of his collar, and dragged him in the opposite direction.
Caught off guard, Christine was pulled flat onto the ground. After struggling in vain a couple of times, he could only watch helplessly as the “top-tier pet” he had just caught drifted further and further away. As a member of the “Slime Appreciation Club,” this felt like a knife twisting in his heart.
If he weren't afraid of damaging his relationship with his daughter, he would have broken free of her grip at all costs to retrieve the slime he had just named “Dung Ball.”
“Such a pure sky-blue, an almost flawless body, a perfect physique... Farewell... my top-tier slime... Ugh... I'll miss you...” As the distance grew, Christine felt his heart weeping. His sorrow was as massive as an adult dragon's balls!
“Miss Charlotte, please keep the bigger picture in mind,” Irene said, casting a side-eye at Christine as she dragged him along. “What we are doing right now is of vital importance to the entire Eastern Continent, and even the Arlesk Material Plane.”
She paused for a moment before continuing:
“You wouldn't want that slime and its kind to perish in this catastrophe of mutation, would you?”
As soon as she finished speaking, Irene felt her hand go empty.
She turned her head and saw that Christine had somehow blinked two or three meters ahead of her. He was now walking forward, tidying his messy clothes with an expression of absolute determination.
“Your Grace Irene, you are absolutely right! For the Eastern Continent, for the Material Plane, how could I, Charlotte, cling to such fleeting warmth! To stop all this, to bring peace to the world, I will not shrink from my duty!” Christine spoke in a heavy, solemn tone, his gaze as resolute as a priest about to be ordained as the Pope.
‘I think you're just doing it for the slime,’ Irene grumbled inwardly, having already realized that Christine was a total slime fanatic.
“Oh, right!” Christine, who was currently struggling with a pair of buttons on his chest, suddenly seemed to remember something important. He slapped his forehead and spun around. “Your Grace Irene, did you find any markers left by the Subjugation Army? Which way should we go next?”
“That is exactly what I wanted to discuss,” Irene replied, stopping as her expression turned solemn. “Arthas and I searched for a long time but couldn't find any man-made markers. In fact, I couldn't even detect a single ripple of mana on these cold rock walls.”
“Miss Charlotte, did you see any markers during the battle earlier?”
“No markers?!” Christine's delicate eyebrows arched in surprise. “But I didn't see any either. No, that's impossible. The location we teleported to is the anchor left by the Subjugation Army. They would definitely leave markers nearby, otherwise...”
Catching Irene's expressionless face, Christine's voice grew quieter and quieter until he finally shut his mouth. He licked his lips and asked in a low voice, “Are you absolutely sure there's no trace of any markers?”
Irene nodded slightly.
“No way! Doesn't that mean we're lost?!” Christine's expression shifted dramatically. After forcing himself to calm down, he began pacing back and forth anxiously. “No, we must have missed something. Yes, that has to be it!”
“Let's go back and search again. We must have overlooked some detail!”
He tried to push past Irene to head back, but she reached out and grabbed his wrist.
After this brief test, Irene felt she could tell that the white dragon was genuinely panicking. She had initially suspected that he might have intentionally erased the markers, but now that seemed highly unlikely.
Meeting Christine's bewildered gaze, Irene said calmly, “Arthas and I have already searched thoroughly. There really isn't a single trace.”
“Perhaps the markers were accidentally destroyed during our fight with the mutated spiders.”
Noticing the disappointment in his eyes, she continued:
“However, you don't need to worry. Among the spells I've learned, there is a long-distance teleportation magic. If worse comes to worst, we can just teleport back.”
“But that would take a heavy toll on me. My suggestion is to search along the path ahead and see if we can find any other traces left by the Subjugation Army.”
Hearing this, the disappointment in Christine's eyes instantly vanished, replaced by hope and excitement.
Recalling the portal his daughter had used when they first officially met, his racing heart beneath his generous chest calmed down significantly.
Taking a deep breath, Christine slowly turned around, his aura shifting entirely.
“Then what are we waiting for? Let's march straight ahead! Charge, charge, charge!”
Even as he spoke, he had already dashed forward, leaping and bounding like a nimble cave monkey. He displayed the agile movements of a ranger to the absolute fullest.
Irene watched Christine's retreating figure and shook her head helplessly, once again mentally kicking the white dragon out of the chromatic dragon category. She gestured to Arthas and quickened her pace to follow.
Once the three figures had disappeared around the corner of the passage, the blue, jelly-like slime slowly hopped out from the dark depths, revealing itself under the glow of the fluorescent moss.
Its two mimicked black bead-like eyes stared at the mouth of the passage where Irene's group had vanished. It slowly devoured a fresh, muddy piece of fern, making soft, squelching noises.
Rate on N.U.
