"The situation is just as grim as I feared."
As dusk approached and the sky began to bleed into a faint crimson, we finally reached the outskirts of our destination: the Town of Ghosts. Before us lay a scene that made even the most veteran monster hunters among us tighten their expressions in bitter resignation.
The Town of Ghosts was a massive former prison built into the center of a basin-like depression in the earth. Surrounding the hollow were eight watchtowers, positioned in a perfect octagon to prevent any prisoners from escaping.
We stood at the entrance of a long, single path carved out between towering cliffs that led straight to the prison’s main gate. Since the gate was shut, we couldn't see what was happening inside, but part of the entrance appeared to be smashed. Undead were spilling out, clogging the path halfway back toward us. It was a replica of the scene at the bottom of the cliff where we had incinerated the horde with oil the day before.
Even though the weather was clear and a breeze blew through the canyon, the air felt strangely heavy. It wasn't just a physical sensation of being unwell; it was an unshakable, visceral discomfort.
"The miasma is drifting this way," Remily noted, glancing at me. "Are you holding up?"
"It shouldn't hinder my movements or combat," I replied.
"Good. But if it starts to feel like too much, don't try to be a hero. Miasma is a form of mana; you'll feel nauseated even if you aren't trying to sense it. At this distance, it’s just a mild discomfort, but that sickness will persist as long as you're near the source. Don't push yourself.
"Also, be on high alert if you see the miasma manifest as a black haze. That means the concentration has become thick enough to see with the naked eye. Breathing that in can be fatal. Avoid miasma pools at all costs, and if you see an undead shrouded in the stuff, eliminate it immediately. Am I clear?"
"Understood."
I'd have to keep a close eye on my condition. The question now was how to proceed.
"Regrettably, we don't have the luxury of searching for Everdark Grass right now," Reinbach said. "I’d like to thin their numbers as much as possible while we have the light."
"Agreed," Remily said. "Even I don't have the heart to prioritize herb gathering in this mess."
"Nor do I," Sebas added.
"Shall I head back to the Town of Teressa to file a report?" Sieber asked.
"It would be faster if I just summoned a dragon to burn the whole place to the ground," Reinbach countered. "By the time word reaches the local Lord and an army is dispatched, it’ll be too late."
"Whether we report it or incinerate it, we need better intel first. Let’s make for the nearest watchtower and reevaluate from there," Sieber suggested.
The group was surprisingly composed. If anything, having these legends around was almost too reassuring.
To reach the nearest tower, we had to proceed down the main road until we found a narrow connecting staircase. The problem, of course, was the sea of undead standing in our way.
"Should we establish a defensive line again?" I asked.
"No, let’s save that for when we reach the tower," Sieber replied. "Remily, can you handle the path?"
"Certainly. But you lot are responsible for the cleanup once we're up top. Ryoma-chan, I’m going to use a heavy spell to clear this crowd. I’ll need your slimes to blockade the base of the stairs once I’m done."
"Understood."
She wasn't the type to boast in a crisis; if she said she could clear the path, she could. I watched closely, curious to see what kind of magic she would use.
"Then I’ll take care of this before they notice us. 'Laser'."
Remily stepped out alone into the center of the road. A needle-thin, incredibly concentrated beam of light erupted from the tip of her staff. It reminded me of a laser pointer from Earth. I knew some high-output lasers could burn skin or cause blindness, but a tiny beam seemed like a weak choice against a massive horde of zombies.
I was wrong.
The instant the beam fired, every undead in its path simply ceased to exist. A split second later, I realized the light had punched through the entire line of monsters instantly. Remily then flicked the tip of her staff from right to left, and the trailing beam mowed down the swarm like a scythe through wheat. The undead clogging the road were wiped out in seconds.
"Wait... just like that?" I stammered.
"This spell has incredible penetration. In an open space with no cover, it’s quite effective," she explained, though she looked a bit tired. "The mana consumption is massive, though, so I can't fire it repeatedly. Secure the stairs, quickly!"
"Right!"
I hurried forward and commanded the Emperor Scavenger Slime to secure the base of the staircase. I had it separate into a swarm of Scavenger Slimes to deal with any stragglers that tried to approach.
Once the bottom was secure, we cautiously ascended the stone steps. Undead had nested in the tower as well, with zombies and skeletons lunging from the narrow passages, but in such cramped quarters, they were perfect targets for my buckshot.
"'Light Shot'."
"Oh," Remily remarked. "That’s the magic you came up with during our duel."
"It’s very efficient in tight spaces," Sieber noted. "It would likely be quite useful for indoor skirmishes."
"The match with Remily-chan has truly borne fruit, hasn't it?" Reinbach chuckled.
"It has. I was a bit overwhelmed at first, but I'm glad we did it," I said.
"Perhaps I’ll give it a try as well," Remily said.
She began providing cover fire, imitating my Light Shot. Her first attempt didn't scatter much, but after she asked for a few pointers, she mastered it perfectly by her third shot. Our pace accelerated significantly.
"I know I asked you to teach me, but you should be careful about showing this magic to others too casually," Remily warned as we climbed.
"Is it because the shotgun effect makes it easy to figure out I'm a Child of God?"
"No, not that. For the shotgun, you can just say you got the idea from a story. The problem is that because the spell is so efficient, people will come out of the woodwork begging to be taught."
I had been using it as an impromptu spell, but I realized now that while Light Shot used very little mana, maximizing its efficiency required high-level mana manipulation and tactical positioning—skills most people lacked.
"Every spell is affected by the user’s talent and experience, but Light Magic is notoriously finicky," she continued. "If you teach someone and they fail to learn it, some people will accept it’s their own lack of skill. But many others won't. They'll claim your teaching is bad, or that you're intentionally hiding the 'secret' to the spell because you don't want them to succeed."
As a master mage, Remily had clearly dealt with this countless times. She’d been accused of sabotage simply because her students lacked her innate talent.
"Even if you act out of goodwill, it often turns into a headache. Be very selective about who you teach. Unless you want to spend your life as an instructor, it’s safer to stick to teaching only the most basic, common spells," she advised.
Sebas, walking beside us, nodded in firm agreement. Apparently, he’d dealt with the same nonsense regarding Space Magic. I made sure to take their words to heart.
"'Light Shot'... and that should be the last of them."
We finally reached the watchtower. It was a simple, cylindrical stone structure with a small shack attached that likely served as a guardroom. Despite being a ruin, it was surprisingly sturdy. The surrounding area was a flat, leveled plateau without even a handrail to prevent someone from falling over the edge.
It seemed dangerous for nighttime use—perhaps the rails had rotted away over the centuries. Still, the lack of obstructions made the tower easy to clear.
Once the area was secure, I looked down at the Town of Ghosts. I wasn't keen on the idea of actually climbing the tower's spire, but the plateau itself sat higher than the prison, giving us a clear view of the interior.
The prison grounds were strictly utilitarian. Rows of heavy, rectangular stone buildings were arranged in a grim, orderly fashion, with a larger tower—a massive version of the ones surrounding the perimeter—standing at the center.
Everything was a proper ruin. Moss clung to the walls, and deep cracks ran through the masonry, though few buildings had actually collapsed. I couldn't see inside the structures or behind them, but at a glance, I didn't see any of the concentrated miasma pools Remily had warned me about.
"Hmm. From what I can see, it's just a massive infestation of low-level undead. The miasma is widespread but relatively thin," Reinbach observed.
"It requires a prompt response, but the situation isn't desperate yet," Sieber added.
"A blessing in the midst of misfortune," Sebas remarked.
To me, it looked like the final act of a zombie film, but apparently, this was "fine" for them. I wondered what a truly "dire" situation looked like to these people.
I was just starting to relax when a sensation hit me.
"!"
"Ryoma, what is it?" Reinbach asked.
"Did something happen?" Sebas added.
"Some of the slimes I left to guard the bottom... I'm not sensing danger or anxiety from them, so it's not an attack," I said.
For a moment, I worried they’d gotten sick from eating too many undead, but then I realized what it was: evolution.
I excused myself and headed back down the stairs. Sure enough, about ten Scavenger Slimes were showing the telltale signs of evolution.
They sat in the center of a protective circle formed by their comrades, their bodies pulsing as they repeatedly absorbed and released mana. They were likely at their most vulnerable during this transition. My slimes usually evolved in places where I could guard them or where they were safely hidden from view.
I wondered what would happen if I touched one during the process. I vaguely remembered hearing that touching an insect while it was molting could cause deformities or other harm... but my memory of Earth biology was a bit fuzzy.
Regardless, I'd never seen a slime evolve after a diet of undead, so I decided to just watch quietly. As I focused, I noticed these slimes were releasing a lot more mana than usual during the change. It might have been because so many were evolving at once, but still...
"Heh. So this is how slimes evolve," a voice said.
"Whoa! You startled me. Remily-san, Sieber-san, you followed me?"
"Reinbach-chan was worried you’d get so distracted by your slimes that you’d forget to keep watch, so he sent us after you. You really were in a world of your own," Remily teased.
"Sorry. I didn't notice you at all."
"Don't beat yourself up over it. She went out of her way to use 'Hide' to sneak up on you," Sieber said with a weary look.
I realized then that she’d used that presence-concealing magic again. When I looked at her, she just gave me a mischievous, childlike grin.
The three of us watched the slimes until the light faded. It was the first time Sieber and Remily had witnessed an evolution, and they seemed genuinely intrigued.
"...It's over."
The Scavenger Slimes that had fed on the undead were now a dark, soil-like color. They were significantly larger than most other species, standing about sixty centimeters tall—just the right height to use as a stool, though I wasn't about to try it.
I used Monster Appraisal. The result came back as "Grave Slime." I initially thought the name referred to the weapon, the glaive, but a quick look at their skills corrected me.
Grave Slime Skills: Undead Attraction Lv1, Undead Absorption Lv3, Corpse Deposition Lv3, Disease Resistance Lv7, Poison Resistance Lv7, Miasma Resistance Lv8, Scavenge Lv6, Sanitization Lv2, Deodorization Lv7, Physical Attack Resistance Lv2, Jump Lv3, Digestion Lv7, Absorption Lv3, Division Lv2, Martial Arts Lv2.
Undead Attraction, Undead Absorption, Corpse Deposition, and Miasma Resistance. Looking at those, the name "Grave" clearly referred to a tomb. In terms of raw utility, their Sanitization level had dropped, and they had lost the ability to produce Deodorizing Fluid entirely. In exchange, they gained those three specialized skills. They kept the combat skills I’d taught them, likely because those were learned through training rather than being innate.
Then I checked their preferred attributes: Earth, Dark, and... Space. Space?!
"No way."
This was the first slime I’d ever found that preferred the Space attribute. I’d tried feeding Space mana to normal slimes for ages with zero results. I’d almost given up on the idea, but this meant Space-specialized slimes were actually possible!
I immediately wanted to test the new skills. I started with "Undead Attraction." Assuming it did exactly what it said, I had my regular Scavengers clear a path.
The result was perfect. The Grave Slime emitted a pale, ghostly light, and the undead—which had been mindlessly clawing at the nearest Scavengers—suddenly ignored everything else and began shuffling toward the Grave Slime.
Then came "Undead Absorption." The Grave Slime simply pulled the gathered undead into its body. What was strange was that the monsters didn't even fight back. When a regular Scavenger tried to eat them, they resisted, but they seemed to walk into the Grave Slime willingly.
Finally, "Corpse Deposition." This skill allowed the slime to store undead-type monsters in its body without digesting them, and release them at will. It seemed a bit niche if it was limited to undead, but if "corpse" included animals, it would be a game-changer for transporting heavy game after a hunt.
"The research possibilities are endless!"
"Ryoma-chan, can we have a moment?" Remily asked. "We don't know much about slimes, and we have questions."
"Oh, right. Sorry. Let’s head back up; it’ll be easier to talk there."
As we climbed back up to the watchtower, I couldn't shake the feeling of two warm, protective gazes directed at my back—the kind of look adults give to a child who's liable to go running off the moment they look away.