Slime True Immortal

In the center of the camp, on the flat open ground that had been specially prepared, the Swamp Knight Team, consisting of over twenty Lizardfolk warriors, had already assembled.

They stood in neat rows, backs ramrod straight, like spears about to be inspected.

More than a month of strict discipline training and physical conditioning had not only given them stronger, more robust physiques but had also etched the bearing of legion soldiers onto them—silent, obedient, acting as a collective.

Only their amber, slit-pupiled eyes, larger and rounder than a human's, still gazed toward the camp entrance, their gazes tinged with nervousness and anticipation.

Previously, the Swamp Knight Team didn't strictly have a dedicated training instructor. Chen Yu had just listened to some advice from Yano about knight training, combined it with his own understanding of combat and discipline, and set daily training goals and content for them.

Then, Little Flower and Tulk jointly supervised its completion.

Facing the new instructor who was about to be "parachuted in"—a human Extraordinary knight at that—even the usually confident and brave Salamander felt his heartbeat involuntarily quicken a little, his grip on his spear shaft tightening slightly.

They didn't have to wait long.

That figure arrived as promised.

Galvin appeared at the simple wooden gate of the training camp. Today, he was just wearing a dark gray leather hunting outfit suitable for movement, with a gray cloak for warmth thrown over it. His sharp, hawk-like gaze swept indifferently over the rows of Lizardfolk warriors standing like statues in the camp center, seemingly able to pierce through their scales and see straight into their nervous hearts and thoughts.

Any Lizardfolk swept by his gaze felt as if they weren't facing a human, but a giant eagle soaring high in the sky, riding the winds, ready to dive down at any moment, imposing a heavy, intangible pressure on them.

Unlike Arthur, who was accustomed to concealing his power, Galvin didn't like deliberately hiding his aura. It wasn't that he enjoyed being flashy or ostentatious, but he believed power and will should be clearly displayed; it was confidence in one's own path.

"Scary... so scary..." Salamander subconsciously swallowed, his throat feeling dry.

This was the first time he had seen a human with such an oppressive presence, completely different from those cunning, treacherous human merchants he'd seen at the swamp's edge before, who always tried to trade shoddy goods for their precious furs and herbs.

This was The Extraordinary, a true powerhouse standing at the peak of the continent's strength!

Without Galvin needing to say anything, just this silent entrance and sweeping gaze had already, intangibly, won the Lizardfolk warriors' respect.

On the viewing stand in the camp corner, Alders sat with old shaman Shazak. Watching this scene, Alders couldn't help but sigh inwardly at this Extraordinary knight's "youthful vigor".

So young... such a young Extraordinary, even in the White Tower city-states of the Golden Radiance Valley, wasn't common.

This swamp nation had surprised him once again.

Galvin stood still for a few seconds before slowly withdrawing his gaze, stepping into the camp with steady, powerful strides, each step seeming to fall in rhythm with everyone's heartbeat.

Behind him, a seemingly younger, petite human female knight followed somewhat nervously.

She seemed unused to being stared at by so many people, her gaze somewhat evasive, her identity appearing to be that of an adjutant or apprentice.

Galvin walked to the front of the formation, clasped his hands behind his back, swept his gaze over all the Lizardfolk warriors again, and got straight to the point: "The reason His Majesty sent me here, you should be clear about."

"Listen up, I dislike nonsense. Since it's His Majesty's command, I will stay here for three months, until every one of you passes knight training."

Salamander hesitated for a moment, then mustered his courage and raised his hand. After receiving a slight nod of permission from Galvin, he asked in broken, halting Common Tongue: "In... instructor, what if... someone can't keep up?"

Galvin glanced at him, crossed his arms over his chest, his expression still cold: "In my place, there is no 'can't keep up'."

"The days ahead will be tough. Those without confidence, now is the time to withdraw."

These words fell like a bucket of ice water on everyone's hearts, making many Lizardfolk present feel a hint of fear inwardly. But not a single one took a step back. They just straightened their backs further, replying to Galvin with even more resolute eyes.

In those eyes was the fanaticism of their faith in "Putu", and the determination to protect their new home. This wasn't just for themselves, but for the future of all their tribespeople.

Galvin saw all this, his face still showing no expression, but inwardly, he gave a slight nod, having initially recognized their will.

From participating in Knight Training Camp to joining the Border Corps, he had seen all sorts of people along the way.

Everyone had different reasons for becoming a knight. Some coveted power and wealth, others sought a stable livelihood... Different people had different desires; few came purely for lofty ideals like "defending the Kingdom".

Even he himself, when he first joined the Border Corps, was just to prove himself, to prove the swordsmanship and glory of the Douglas family, not for any particularly noble goal.

Yet the belief of these Lizardfolk before him was exceptionally pure, like crystal without any impurities, refracting a simple yet intense light.

This kind of purity was often only born in tribes that constantly faced survival crises, needed to huddle together for warmth, and placed collective survival above the individual.

Even if they didn't become knights, they would probably become the most fanatical, devout believers of some deity.

And to become a true knight, the most crucial oath required precisely this kind of firm, pure, and intense will as its foundation.

Galvin waved a hand behind him, saying to the nervous young female knight: "Anna, go test their strength."

"Me?" Anna was somewhat surprised, pointing at herself. But seeing Galvin's unyielding gaze, she still nodded firmly, took a deep breath, and tried to calm herself down.

"Yes, teacher!"

Hearing this, dozens of pairs of amber slit-pupiled eyes focused on her in unison, making the already somewhat nervous Anna feel even more pressure. She subconsciously clenched her fists.

"She... is also a knight?" Salamander felt a surge of eagerness.

This human female knight before him looked young and slender, and her demeanor seemed like someone who hadn't experienced much actual combat. She probably... wasn't very strong, right?

Maybe he could put on a good show in front of the new instructor.

Galvin seemed to read his thoughts, reaching into his chest and taking out a gel orb, casually tossing it in his hand.

"Defeat her, and this gel is the prize."

"His Majesty's gel?" Salamander's eyes lit up. He had heard Mr. Pum mention this magical gel orb. It was said to contain the wondrous powers of various Magical Creatures. Even obtaining just one orb was enough to give a Lizardfolk a new lease on life.

"His Majesty sealed 'Dragon Bloodline' inside. You should be familiar with it." Galvin added, his tone still flat, but it was like dropping a boulder into a calm lake.

"Dragon Bloodline?!" The Lizardfolk exclaimed in low voices, swallowing repeatedly, trying to moisten their suddenly dry throats.

Familiar? More than familiar. This power, perhaps a thousand years ago, their ancestors had possessed it too. It was an ancient memory lingering deep in their bloodline.

And now, when it appeared before them again, it carried an irresistible allure, making one want to draw near, to possess it.

In the camp corner, Alders quietly asked Tulk beside him: "Child, what is that? That glowing thing seems to contain a very special power."

Tulk didn't know much either. He had only heard Pum mention the uses of the gel orb, not its specific origin or creation principle, so he answered truthfully.

Alders naturally understood this as some kind of magical artifact, born of mysterious Slime alchemy.

He nodded inwardly. Demons wouldn't know such miraculous alchemy. This Slime King indeed seemed to be the Forest Sage he was looking for.

The old man could finally relax a little. Next, he just needed to have a formal meeting for final confirmation and communication.

In the camp center, Salamander, recognized as the top Lizardfolk warrior, volunteered to step forward, issuing a duel invitation to Anna.

"Knight Anna, please don't hold back." Salamander gripped his training spear tightly, adopting a combat stance, speaking in as standard Common Tongue as he could.

"Oh, okay... okay!" Anna flusteredly drew the sword at her waist, took several deep breaths, secretly cheering herself on.

Anna, you can do it. You've trained with the teacher for so long. Don't disgrace the teacher.

"Begin." Galvin stepped aside, announcing coolly.

As soon as his words fell, Salamander's figure shot out with a "whoosh".

Lizardfolk warriors were primarily agile. In an active attack state, Salamander's speed was astonishing.

His scaled body pulled a blurry green streak through the air, crossing several meters in an instant to appear before Anna.

All the watching Lizardfolk thought this would be a clean, decisive duel—with Salamander's speed and strength, this seemingly slender, nervous human female knight probably wouldn't even have time to react before being hit.

And the outcome was indeed "clean and decisive".

However, the one hit wasn't Anna.

"Thud!"

Salamander only felt his vision blur. He didn't even see how Anna moved, only glimpsed a flash of incredibly swift sword light. The next moment, he felt as if he'd been rammed by a charging swamp rhino, involuntarily flying backward.

The spear in his hand also flew out, spinning several times in the air before skewering diagonally into the soft mud nearby, the shaft still trembling slightly.

Huh?

On the other side, Anna maintained her sword-sheathing posture, her expression also one of disbelief. She looked down at her sword-holding hand, then at the flying Salamander, as if saying: I... I'm this strong?

The Lizardfolk didn't know Anna's strength, and Anna, trained for years by The Extraordinary, had always faced opponents far stronger than her along the way. She was accustomed to fighting under high pressure and similarly lacked a clear understanding of her actual strength.

She always felt she was still weak, needing to train harder.

She never expected to swat Salamander away in one go, which made her feel ashamed and embarrassed.

"Elite Professional?"

Some more knowledgeable Lizardfolk warriors whispered among themselves, quickly running over to help the dazed Salamander, who had landed in the mud, to his feet.

Only now did they truly realize what kind of training they were about to face in the next three months.

...

Fissure Snowfield.

The howling cold wind blew, listlessly whipping up snow powder from the ground, then swirling it back. In this gray, lightless world, cold and desolation were almost the eternal themes. Besides snow, nothing fresh could be seen.

However, a few days ago, the arrival of a group of Slimes brought a different kind of vitality to this snowfield.

On the former site of the Goblin's snowfield fortress, Slimes were busily bouncing back and forth. At their feet, the shape of a small town could already be seen—neat foundation lines, newly erected wooden frame houses, half-laid stone slab roads, and a large-scale central building complex.

They had a clear division of labor. Some larger Rock Slimes were jointly hauling heavy stone and timber materials, placing them in predetermined positions.

Other Slimes with more elastic bodies, like skilled Bricklayers, secreted special gel to carefully fill the gaps between stones, making them more solid.

Some Frost Slimes were rolling on the snow, clearing accumulated snow from the frozen ground to prevent heavy snow from burying the construction site.

Although the wind on the snowfield was bone-chillingly cold, the Slimes didn't feel cold.

Inside their gel bodies, they each carried several warm stones emitting a warm red glow. From the outside, they looked like moving "little lanterns", especially conspicuous in the icy, snowy landscape.

Warm stones were a special type of ore produced in volcanic or geothermal regions that could emit stable heat for long periods. They allowed the Slimes to act like little heaters, not only maintaining their own gel activity in the cold to avoid freezing during construction but also creating a small, relatively warm area around their gel, slightly melting the hard frozen ground for easier work.

At this moment, on the already laid snowfield road, a beast-drawn cart pulled by two thick-furred Draft Animals was slowly creaking its way forward.

Inside sat Nilly, who had now changed into a deep gray fur-lined leather coat and wore a fluffy fur hat.

She kept her hands tucked in her sleeves, her body swaying slightly with the cart's jolts, her exhaled white breath quickly dissipating in the cold air.

The cart's curtain blocked the coldest wind, but the temperature inside was still near freezing. She even had a mischievous thought, considering whether to "borrow" a few Slimes from the construction site for warmth.

At the front of the cart, two young Stone Descendants responsible for escort duty were also dressed in warm clothing. They sat on the cart, necks tucked in, talking in low voices, their gazes occasionally sweeping over the bustling construction site around them.

"Tsk, these Slimes... are really impressive."

"It's only been a few days. I remember when we first arrived, there were just a few pits here. Now, houses are almost built."

The other Stone Descendant rubbed his slightly reddened, frozen hands. "I heard they're building the future 'Kingdom Post Station'. In the future, taking a carriage from here will lead to various parts of the Kingdom. Truly His Majesty. Ordinary people wouldn't think of building a Post Station in a place like this."

"What's that large plot of land for? It looks no smaller than the Post Station."

"Seems like it's for the 'Adventurer's Guild'. I heard Slimes will be able to register as Adventurers in the future, accepting missions here and going out on adventures. Sounds quite novel."

But it was just novel.

His Majesty's Magical Creature Legion was indeed powerful, but individual adventuring was another matter. They even wondered if these little guys would get lured away by ill-intentioned people when they went out on missions.

Behind them, Nilly shivered from the cold and snapped impatiently: "You two brats, trying to freeze your Auntie to death? Instead of chatting idly, hurry up and deliver these cold-resistance potions and supplies on the cart to the warehouse."

"Unload the cargo quickly. Your Auntie still needs to hurry back to warm herself by the fire."

While complaining, her eyes were still scanning the surrounding snowfield and the faintly visible planar rifts in the distance.

Her trip here to deliver supplies was just incidental. After unloading, she still needed to personally investigate around the nearby fissures to ensure no strange creatures snuck in while the Fissure Outpost wasn't fully built.

"Yes, yes, Auntie." The two Shadow Assassins, scolded, tucked in their necks, quickly focused their minds, and concentrated on driving.

However, even Nilly, this experienced Shadow Master, failed to notice that not far behind them, a deep shadow was silently "watching" them, and the entire busy construction site.

The shadow had no specific shape and emitted no aura. It just lay there quietly, like the most patient hunter, silently "recording" everything on the snowfield construction site—the Slimes' busyness, the beast cart's progress, the Stone Descendants' conversations, even the layout and progress of the buildings.

This was precisely the Shadow Demon Yebarton. After receiving Casaric's orders and leaving the Burning Capital, he had infiltrated this snowfield through the nearest planar rift.

Under the shadow's protection, his movements were like the darkest night, silent and undetectable by conventional means.

His mission was clear—reconnaissance.

To ascertain the details of that emerging Magical Creature Kingdom, assess its threat, and, under conditions permitting and risks controllable, carry out "precise elimination".

And this snowfield town under construction, along with these seemingly harmless Slimes, was his first observation target.

Yebarton's gaze slowly shifted, finally settling on the building framework in the center of the construction site.

Adventurer's Guild... Slime Adventurers... an interesting idea.

But his thoughts aligned with those two young Stone Descendants, even considering it a joke.

He gradually lost interest in this absurd nonsense. His shadowy form carefully skirted the beast cart to avoid detection by the perceptive little girl inside, then drifted toward the castle enveloped in a crystal sphere at the snowfield's center.

He believed this peculiar castle was the target worth scouting.