Slime True Immortal

"I'm sorry..."

Arthur clutched his increasingly scorching, unbearable chest, even feeling as if his undead soul was being burned by the Sunblossom. The intense pain caused his Soulfire to flicker violently, and he couldn't help but drop to one knee.

"Thump, thump, thump..."

The heartbeat gradually became real and powerful, even overwhelming all his senses. Galvin's questioning voice was slowly swallowed by the monotonous, heavy thumping, becoming indistinct and finally disappearing completely.

However, the soul-scorching pain receded like a tide at that moment.

It wasn't because the Sunblossom in his chest had extinguished; on the contrary, it had become even brighter, even warmer!

The light even pierced through his icy chest armor, slowly drifting out from his chest like a small, bright lamp, illuminating the boundless darkness before him.

Arthur snapped out of his pain and belatedly looked up.

Galvin and Lide, the Fifth Legion's garrison, were all gone. He was now in a world of pure darkness.

Only then did he see clearly. The blessing feather he had always treasured in his embrace was now suspended at the center of the light, slowly burning, becoming the fuel for that radiance. No wonder he had felt such scorching heat. "Is this... a trial?"

"Correct."

A response suddenly echoed in the darkness. A small patch of gentle green light pulsed up and down, approaching from afar as if strolling through the dark.

Looking closer, Arthur realized it was a small, green Slime, blinking its round little eyes and observing him curiously.

"Lady Viola?" Arthur performed a Knight's Salute uncertainly.

He was quite sure the voice emanating from this Slime was almost identical to that of the Dryad leader, Viola, whom he had met in the Dryad domain.

But how could a Dryad leader turn into a Slime? This was as absurd as a bizarre, fantastical dream.

Viola seemed able to hear his thoughts, cheerfully blowing out a string of small bubbles. "Your feeling is correct; this place is indeed like a dream."

"Originally, your guide should have been some Slime Sage. But I estimated that little lord wasn't very proficient in this business, so I planted a small hint in your heart, appearing in this manner."

She shook her gel body. "You being able to appear here and see me means that crow finally gave you that blessing feather, right?"

Arthur nodded. "Count Bran said he was worried it might have some curse on it, so he gave it to me."

Viola laughed. "Hehe, silly knight, that crow is much smarter than you think."

Arthur was taken aback, his mind recalling Count Bran's always boisterous, noisy, and boastful manner.

For some reason, thinking of it now, he felt a warm current flow through his heart.

He looked down and discovered his skeletal body clad in old, cold, hard armor was gone. In its place was a somewhat illusory human figure.

When the light from the burning feather shone through, he could even see traces of warm blood flowing in the veins and the dark red shadow of a heart beating within the chest cavity.

Viola hummed triumphantly. "Knight, do you see? This is the redemption nature bestows upon you."

"Hold the bright lamp and advance. Traverse this darkness. As long as you leave this place before the feather burns out completely, you can be reborn."

"That means truly shedding your undead body and becoming a living human again."

"Become... human..." Arthur subconsciously raised his hand to touch his face.

His fingertips felt an unfamiliar elasticity and warmth, no longer the coldness of bone. An indescribable tremor surged within him.

He had long accepted his identity as an undead and used it as a new starting point to move forward.

But hearing he could become a living human again reignited the long-dormant yearning in his heart.

If he truly became human, perhaps... he would have more courage to face Alice, to make up for past regrets, to feel nature and life more intimately...

He felt that desire called "Heart Impulse" once more after a long time.

Viola timely poured cold water on this. "But redemption also has a price. To gain new life, you must give up something."

Her voice became serious. "Pay attention. Be cautious with every choice you make from now on. They might even affect the fate of others. And all of this is the necessary sacrifice for gaining new life."

Arthur was puzzled inside but still nodded to show he understood.

"Good, then proceed."

After speaking, Viola's small gel body dropped into the darkness below. Immediately, the surrounding space shifted, and she landed on Arthur's shoulder.

Following her instructions, Arthur carefully reached out to touch the light emanating from the burning feather.

The light twisted, condensed, and matter appeared out of thin air, swirling with warm flames, finally transforming into an old-fashioned, rust-marked lantern.

He gripped the lantern's copper handle, raised this sole source of light, and took a step into the unknown depths of darkness.

At first, it was utterly silent. His feet trod on nothing but void-like darkness, as if walking in boundless emptiness. But gradually, the void beneath his feet somehow turned into solid wooden planks. Shining the lantern to both sides, he could even see old yet familiar wallpaper patterns.

He had appeared in a long, seemingly endless corridor.

Fingers tracing those intimate and nostalgic patterns on the wallpaper, Arthur froze.

"The Arevalo manor... This is my home."

His feet moved forward unconsciously, walking along this corridor that seemed to have no end, flanked by unchanging wallpaper and rows of silent, tightly shut wooden doors.

They wouldn't open, and no sound came from within, as if they were mere background.

However, at that moment, he seemed to hear faint weeping coming from far ahead.

Although the sound was so faint it was almost inaudible, it inexplicably stirred sadness within him.

So he quickened his pace, heading towards the direction of the weeping, getting closer and closer to that sound.

Finally, he stopped before a wooden door that looked no different from the others. Hesitating for a moment, he gently knocked.

The weeping inside stopped, becoming completely silent, with no further sound.

Arthur took a deep breath and decided to turn the cold copper handle.

This time, the door opened easily under his hand.

Under the lantern's dim, yellowish glow, the room's interior was revealed—a simply yet warmly decorated bedroom.

A few open knight novels and a quill lay on the desk by the window. A practice wooden sword hung on the wall. The bed was messy, and the air seemed to retain a faint, delicate fragrance.

This was... Alice's room.

Arthur confirmed it inwardly, a complex emotion welling up in his heart.

Just as he felt dazed, the faint weeping sounded again, clearer this time, coming from under the bed.

He tried crouching down, shining the lantern's light under the bed, and saw a small figure curled up in the shadows beneath.

She had loose brown hair, was wearing thin pajamas, and was tightly hugging her knees, her face buried in her arms. Her slender shoulders trembled slightly with each sob.

She mumbled incoherently, "Brother... I'm so scared... Brother..."

Little Alice...

Arthur maintained a calm exterior, but the hand holding the lantern trembled uncontrollably.

He reached out, attempting to comfort his sister curled up in the darkness.

"Are you sure you want to interfere with another's fate?" Viola on his shoulder suddenly reminded him. "This might accelerate the feather's burning speed."

Arthur's movement paused. "If I do nothing... what will happen?"

Viola shook her gel body. "Don't know. Anyway, this is the necessary sacrifice for redemption."

"Redemption..." Arthur murmured.

The next moment, however, he unhesitatingly placed his warm, large hand gently on that small head.

In his view, his sister was never a choice to be weighed on a scale.

If the so-called redemption required sacrificing someone he cared about, even if just a phantom in a dream... then he would rather not have it.

The familiar, warm touch on her head made little Alice hum in confusion, stopping her crying.

Feeling that temperature so deeply familiar from memory, a look of delight appeared on her small face.

"Brother... is that you? Have you come back?"

Arthur didn't respond, nor could he. But the lantern responded for him.

The flame burning the feather suddenly blazed brightly. Warm, radiant light instantly filled the entire room, dispelling all shadows and chill.

The "night" outside the window faded away like a curtain. Golden morning sunlight streamed through the clean glass window, casting dappled light on the wooden floor.

A few unknown little birds chirped as they flew past the window, bringing sounds of vibrant life.

Little Alice in her pajamas crawled out from under the bed curiously, rubbing her sleepy eyes still marked with tear stains.

She struggled to climb onto the chair by the window, stood on tiptoe, and pushed the window open with effort. The morning breeze carrying the scent of grass brushed her cheeks, making her smile involuntarily.

She clasped her hands together, gripping the silver pendant hanging around her neck. Facing the bright morning light outside the window, she began a pious prayer. "Cardos above, please bless my brother... to return safely."

Arthur, standing at the doorway, couldn't help but curl his lips into a warm smile. Then he gently closed the door.

His world plunged back into pure darkness. Even the long corridor from before had vanished.

Looking at the lantern in his hand again, he could clearly feel the flame inside was significantly dimmer than before. The feather was burning faster.

Viola's voice sounded. "Your remaining time is short, but there is still hope."

Arthur nodded, saying nothing. He simply gripped the lantern again, took a step, and continued forward.

He walked in the darkness for an unknown length of time. Weathered stone bricks began to appear under his feet. He seemed to have entered an ancient, ruined site. Around him were collapsed pillars, shattered statues, and overgrown vines.

At the end of the ruins, the vague outline of a hall could be seen. Though dilapidated, its former grandeur was still discernible.

Before he could take a few steps, a familiar voice came from ahead.

"Caw! Master of Shadows, today is your demise! Let the great and noble Count Bran utterly end your reign over this kingdom!"

It was Count Bran, its voice brimming with the pride unique to it.

But in an instant, the voice turned fearful.

"Caw! Vile creature, actually calling so many helpers! Aaaah! Retainer, save me! They want to pluck my noble feathers! Save me!"

Count Bran let out a piercing, miserable scream. The sound approached from the depths of the ruins as a black shadow flapped its wings, flying out in a disheveled state.

When it saw Arthur standing there, it looked puzzled at first, then its small, beady eyes lit up with delight. "Caw-hahaha! This Count knew my loyal retainer wouldn't abandon me and leave!"

It quickly landed on Arthur's shoulder, cowardly hiding behind his head. Pointing a wing tip into the dark depths, its voice trembled. "Arthur, quick! This Count's lifelong enemy is coming!"

Arthur instinctively reached for the sword at his waist but found it empty. He remembered he was now just an illusory figure, without weapons.

And in the darkness ahead, a shadow so massive it was heart-stopping gradually emerged from behind the outline of the ruined hall.

They had no fixed form, as if condensed from the purest darkness and malice. Their mere existence exuded a suffocating sense of oppression.

Wherever they passed, the already faint light of the ruins was further devoured, casting even deeper, more terrifying shadows.

"Caw! They're coming!!" Count Bran was so scared it puffed into a black ball of fluff, using its wings to tightly cover its small eyes, not daring to look.

Viola on his shoulder spoke leisurely. "The lantern's light can disperse them. But are you sure you want to do this?"

"A noisy little crow, sacrificing it is no big deal..."

Her voice seemed to carry an invisible force, trying to shake Arthur's resolve.

However, Arthur resolutely raised the lantern in his hand, aiming it at the approaching massive shadow ahead.

The flame inside the lantern seemed to respond to his will, suddenly bursting forth with a piercing, warm radiance.

This light was like a sharp sword, boldly piercing the darkness of the ruins, dispelling the terrifying shadow, and illuminating the broken pillars around and the faint outline of distant green hills.

"Ah!!!"

The shadows wailed as they receded. The land regained its tranquility, as if bathed in the glow of dusk.

Only then did Count Bran cautiously loosen its wings, open one eye, and seeing the bright ruins, it joyfully took flight, circling and cawing triumphantly. "Caw-haha! Now you know this Count's power!"

"Without this Count even lifting its noble wings, my retainer can annihilate you all, hmph!"

Viola sighed. Her gel body seemed somewhat deflated, her voice tinged with helplessness. "Well now, the feather has burned less than halfway. The road ahead will be harder to walk."

She looked at Arthur, her tone carrying puzzlement. "Arthur, do you really not want new life that much?"

Arthur's gaze fell on Count Bran, which had landed back on his shoulder, and he spoke earnestly. "You are mistaken on one point, Lady Viola."

"Count Bran is not some little crow. He is a noble Count, my friend."

"Fine." Viola seemed to give up on persuasion, appearing indifferent.

Arthur didn't say anything more this time. Taking one last look at Count Bran, he stepped forward to continue.

Darkness enveloped him like a tide once more. This time, however, the flame inside the lantern was noticeably much dimmer, its light only illuminating a very small area ahead.

Arthur's expression didn't change; he just walked on in silence.

But soon, he stopped again.

Only because a figure stood quietly in the darkness ahead.

The round Slime wore a slightly crooked golden Small Crown and a cloak that, even in the darkness, could be seen as a deep crimson color.

It simply stood there, naturally exuding an aura of majesty. Who else could possess such presence besides Chen Yu?

Meanwhile, the green Slime on Arthur's shoulder was gradually becoming agitated, its voice beginning to distort.

"Go around it, let's go quickly."

"Arthur, this is your last chance. You can't miss it again. Go, quickly!"

Arthur ignored the Slime's urging on his shoulder this time. He dropped to one knee and gently placed the lantern, burning with its remaining light, before the Slime representing Chen Yu.

"Your Majesty."

The Slime representing Chen Yu gave a slight bounce, as if nodding in response.

Immediately, it made a move that surprised both Arthur and "Viola."

Slime Impact!!

"Chen Yu" suddenly leaped, its round body shooting forward like a cannonball, directly crashing into Viola on Arthur's shoulder.

"Thump!"

The green Slime was caught off guard, sent flying, and landed on the ground, bouncing several times, looking utterly disheveled.

"Chen Yu" turned to Arthur and said, "Arthur, you should know this is a dream."

"And in a dream, any doubt, hesitation, fear... will breed evil, distorting everything you see."

"Because of your doubt, it is no longer Viola."

"Just as in your eyes, I have always been the omniscient His Majesty, that's why I can see through all these disguises."

"Then who is it now?" Arthur picked up the lantern, shining its light on the green Slime writhing and struggling on the ground.

Under the lantern's glow, the Slime let out a pained screech. Its body began to twist and deform violently, the gel stretching, shaping... Finally, it transformed into a human figure identical to Arthur's illusory form.

The figure knelt on the ground in agony, clutching its head, letting out a hoarse roar filled with resentment.

"Arthur, why won't you just sacrifice them!"

"Our redemption is right before us. We are about to gain new life. You just... just need to be a little more ruthless, abandon these insignificant beings, and we can..."

Arthur's gaze held no wavering. He looked calmly at the shadow that shared his face but was filled with twisted desire, and slowly spoke.

"You are not me."

"And this is not redemption for me."