Slime True Immortal

Allen Bridge Fort.

The name originates from the centuries-old giant stone arch bridge spanning the main channel of the Jade River—Allen Long Bridge. It is a city located in the east-central part of the White Horse Kingdom, built along the banks of the Jade River, guarding the vital transportation artery of the kingdom's fertile eastern granary, the "Golden Tassel Plain."

Its predecessor was originally a military fortress of the kingdom, a key strategic military strongpoint on the initial line of defense during the kingdom's expansion. Now, it has become a significant commercial hub in the southeastern part of the kingdom.

In the early morning, deep within a dilapidated alley of Allen Bridge Fort, a small community church that looked long-neglected stood quietly.

The wooden church door creaked and was pushed open from the inside, revealing Arthur's tall figure.

Compared to when he left, his attire, besides the slightly worn but polished knight's plate armor, now included an inconspicuous gray cloak draped over it.

He turned around and performed a knight's salute towards the old man inside the door, who wore simple priest's robes and had a kindly face.

"Thank you for your generosity and guidance, Father Joseph. May the radiance of the sun protect you and this church."

Old Father Joseph nodded slightly, drawing a holy symbol over his chest. "May the light guide your path, lost knight."

"That child Belle doesn't have an easy life. She often goes to Madam Mary in the Waterside Beauty district to take on some sewing, mending, and laundry piecework to supplement the family income. If you can't find her at her residence, you can try looking there." His gaze swept over Arthur's dust-covered cloak and boots, offering a kind reminder. "But please note, the Waterside Beauty district is where respectable people live. They don't particularly welcome... wanderers like yourself. If you wish to enter, you'll likely need to pay a bit more attention to your attire."

Then, he retrieved a package wrapped in clean cloth from behind and handed it to Arthur. "This is the church's relief supplies for this month—some black bread and dried cheese. Please help me deliver it to that child who still maintains her piety."

Arthur nodded, said nothing more, silently took the package, and turned to leave.

Just as he descended the church steps, a flock of white pigeons took flight from the old fountain, soaring through the district towards the morning sun, their wings radiating a pure white glow.

He subtly adjusted the slightly askew Slime mask on his face, his gaze following the pigeons until they vanished, finally settling on the main castle of Allen Bridge Fort, standing at the city's highest point north of the bridge.

Almost all of Allen Bridge Fort's affluent districts, guild headquarters, and noble mansions clustered around that ancient castle.

But that was not his destination for this trip.

He needed to follow the street address given by Father Joseph, cross the famous Allen Long Bridge, and reach the lower city south of the bridge—the place where the city's sewage, stench, and poverty converged and accumulated.

After leaving the church, he turned right into a dark, narrow alley piled high with garbage.

Deep in the alley, a figure was leaning quietly against a mottled wall, waiting. More peculiarly, on his shoulder perched a crow with glossy, jet-black feathers.

This was precisely his companion who had accompanied him back to the kingdom to search for the Crown of Ignis—Count Bran and the knight Galvin.

Since Galvin was still on the Kingdom Knights' wanted list, it was generally inconvenient for him to appear openly. Therefore, the tasks of gathering intelligence and interacting with people often fell to Arthur, whose identity was relatively "clean."

Thanks to the disguise of the Slime mask on his face, Arthur had smoothly traveled from the border town all the way to Allen Bridge Fort. So far, no one had discovered his true identity as a Death Knight.

Seeing Arthur return safely, Count Bran secretly breathed a sigh of relief, then immediately resumed his usual arrogant and haughty demeanor. Flapping his wings, he swaggered off Galvin's shoulder and landed on Arthur's broad, armored shoulder.

"Well, my retainer, this Earl guesses this trip yielded quite some results, didn't it?"

Arthur nodded. "As expected of Count Bran, just as you thought. That Father Joseph does indeed know Belle."

"However, we still don't know if the Crown of Ignis is still in her possession. Moreover, from what the Father said, she hasn't had an easy life these years, living in poverty, barely getting by on church relief."

Hearing this, Count Bran used his wing to tap Arthur's iron helmet with moderate force, producing a *clang clang* sound, then proudly raised his head.

"What's there to worry about? Poverty? In this Earl's view, that's not a problem at all."

He waved his wings as if displaying treasures. "Look at this Earl's noble feathers. Just one is worth dozens... no, hundreds of gold coins. Giving away a single one casually would be enough for her to live a wealthy and respectable life."

He suddenly lowered his voice, his beak close to Arthur's ear, whispering, "The important thing is whether that crown is still in her hands. Don't forget the true purpose of our journey here."

Galvin, who had been silently listening to their conversation, spoke up at the appropriate moment. "It's been so long. Who knows if she might have lost that crown already."

"If we think in a more pessimistic direction, perhaps the girl has long since handed over the Crown of Ignis to the Border Garrison."

"Once we show up at her door, there might be several knights, corrupted by the demon, waiting there for us to walk right into their trap."

Count Bran glared at him, raising his voice a few notches. "Caw! Can't you, you big ice block, say something more auspicious? What if it actually comes true?"

Arthur was not affected by this pessimistic speculation. He nodded calmly and said to Count Bran, "There's no need for concern, Count. If there truly is an ambush, I will prioritize eliminating any potential rangers or archers to cover your retreat."

"You can spread your wings and fly away first with peace of mind, ensuring your safety is the priority."

Count Bran was utterly delighted upon hearing this, extremely satisfied with Arthur's awareness. He folded his spread wings and held his head high.

"Caw! Truly this Earl's most excellent retainer. With your loyalty and awareness, that's enough. How could this Earl possibly be the kind of coward who flees at the first sign of danger?"

"When necessary, this Earl merely needs to gently flap these wings to scare off those ignorant fools."

Galvin listened from the side, his face showing no change in expression.

After all, scaring off knights by merely flapping wings was, in this Crow Count's usual torrent of boastful tales, nothing more than the most trivial of minor feats.

There were even more exaggerated stories, like defeating a four-armed giant wielding a greatsword, detecting a hidden assassin in a field of fallen rice stalks in advance, escaping from a dragon whose wing shadows could blot out an entire mountain range...

However, after traveling together for so long, aside from seeing this Crow Count peck and slap his own companions with his beak and wings, Galvin had never once witnessed him personally engage any decent enemy.

Out of concern for potential danger and his usual cautious nature, he decided it was best to make more thorough preparations.

Thus, he inquired of Arthur, "So, were you able to contact His Majesty the Slime? If we could have His Majesty's assistance, our operation would be much more secure."

Arthur shook his head slightly. "Allen Bridge Fort is too far from the border swamps. His Majesty mentioned before that beyond a certain distance, that marvelous 'signal' cannot reach here."

In the mainstream perception of the kingdom's people, the vast western border swamps were nothing but a desolate land, so barren that even adventurous adventurers were unwilling to set foot in it.

To say it was located at the edge of civilization was already a rather polite description.

Furthermore, within the kingdom's borders, one couldn't hear any news about the "Slime Kingdom" at all.

People's gazes were more focused on the Dark Realm, that popular destination for the desperate, fugitives, and ambitious schemers.

In that vast, chaotic world of darkness, there were no written decrees or laws. Strength was the only rule.

Even if you killed someone, you could just find a pit to bury them in, or even discard the corpse by the roadside, and no one would care.

Within the kingdom itself, it was completely different. Causing a public disturbance here would truly get you arrested by patrolling constables or city guard knights and put on trial.

"Still no contact..."

Galvin pushed his back off the wall. "We can't wait any longer. Let's set off. Even without His Majesty's blessing, the Chubby One is already sufficient to help us handle most challenges."

Hearing his name mentioned, the Chubby One on Arthur's face made a *pop* sound, bulging out roundly, landing on Arthur's shoulder, and emitting happy, indistinct grunts.

"Me... Me very strong. You go ahead with confidence."

Count Bran curiously moved closer, gently poking the Chubby One's soft, bouncy body with his beak. "Speaking of which, Chubby One, can His Majesty see your experiences during this time? Like what we're doing or saying right now?"

The Chubby One happily wobbled its Q-elastic gel body. "When have signal, main body can know. Main body strong, me also strong."

Hearing this, Count Bran broke out in a cold sweat. He hurriedly used his wing to wipe nonexistent sweat from his forehead and muttered quietly, "Fortunately... fortunately... This Earl probably hasn't said anything too disrespectful..."

Immediately after, he switched to a righteous and solemn expression. "This Earl's loyalty to His Majesty is something even the noisiest poisonous frog in the swamp knows perfectly well. You understand, right, Chubby One?"

The Chubby One wobbled. "Of course, Count Bran, the kingdom's most wise minister."

Count Bran's face lit up with delight. He cackled proudly, his wings flapping wildly. "Caw-haha, you flatter me too much... This Earl isn't actually a crow so fond of empty titles."

"Alright, we should get going."

Galvin glanced at everyone and was the first to step out of the filthy alley.

Arthur hurriedly put on his Slime mask, tucked Count Bran into his chest armor, and then followed Galvin's footsteps towards the lower city south of the bridge.

Although the upper and lower cities of Allen Bridge Fort were separated only by the shimmering Jade River, they were like two different worlds, whether in terms of architectural style and cleanliness or the demeanor and attire of the citizens coming and going.

Compared to the noblewomen on the opposite bank in their lavish panniered skirts and exquisite hats, or the gentlemen in formal wear holding black canes, Arthur and his companion's dust-covered, tattered cloak attire more closely resembled the vagrants who often frequented the slums and dock districts.

Coupled with that set of armor that looked like a family heirloom, they could barely pass for down-on-their-luck mercenaries.

But in this commercial capital teeming with nobles and merchants, their attire was still a symbol of being beneath notice.

The well-dressed merchants around them not only frowned upon seeing them but also instinctively gave them a wide berth.

A few noblewomen in ornate carriages, however, glimpsing Arthur and Galvin's tall, upright figures through the carriage window cracks, giggled and tossed out small slips of paper.

The slips fluttered in the air a few times before landing precisely in a shallow puddle of filthy water.

Galvin had just glanced at that slip when Arthur, walking ahead seemingly preoccupied with the crown, didn't notice this minor incident. He stepped forward, his foot landing precisely on the slip, pressing it into the murky sludge.

Seeing the strange look Galvin gave him, he couldn't help but ask, puzzled, "What is it?"

Galvin took a deep breath and said gruffly, "Nothing. It's just that I lost another move."

"It seems compared to you, my focus is still insufficient."

"Let's keep going."

Although Arthur didn't understand, he followed.

Passing through the dirty, crowded streets of the lower city, and after catching the third thief who tried to pick their purses, they finally, following the address, arrived at the residence mentioned by Father Joseph—14 Chestnut Lane.

However, unlike the standalone house they had imagined, what greeted their eyes was a two-story tenement building with large patches of peeling wall plaster and rotting wooden doors and windows.

Women carrying wooden basins, preparing to go wash clothes by the river, were constantly entering and exiting, along with some barefoot children chasing and playing by the entrance.

It seemed this single old building housed quite a number of people.

Galvin stopped a woman who was just heading out with a wooden basin. Before she could show wariness, he took out a shiny silver coin and dangled it before her eyes.

"Excuse me, ma'am. May I ask if Belle Brooks lives here?"

Seeing Galvin and the tall Arthur behind him, the woman instinctively seemed a bit fearful, shrinking slightly.

But when her gaze met the silver coin, a flash of desire instantly appeared in her eyes. In the end, she couldn't resist the temptation.

She nodded meekly. "Y-yes, sir. Belle lives in the basement, behind the staircase entrance."

"Good, thank you." Galvin thanked her briefly, placed the silver coin into the woman's rough hand, said no more, and strode into the courtyard cluttered with miscellaneous items.

Unbeknownst to him, Count Bran, hidden within Arthur's chest armor, was watching this scene and muttering in secret heartache, "Such a spendthrift! Just asking for directions—a single copper coin would have been generous enough. He actually gave a silver coin! That's enough for this Earl to buy so many shiny little trinkets."

He poked Arthur's chest armor with his wing. "Arthur, from now on, leave tasks like asking for directions to you. You're more... reliable."

"Alright." Arthur agreed, following Galvin's steps, navigating the narrow corridor piled with junk, avoiding the lines of sun-dried tattered clothing, and arriving near the staircase entrance.

There, a set of stone steps led downwards to a low wooden door, which should be the basement mentioned by the woman.