Chapter Nine: Angry Slime Crashes a Slumber Party

Time slowly passed as the slime population in the forest greatly decreased. After their latest kill, the group noticed that evening was setting in. Deciding it was a good idea to set up camp soon, Hasson led the boys to a clearing nearby. After getting them to take a step back, he snapped his fingers and a bunch of roots sprang up from the ground. With a mind of their own, the roots weaved together making an impromptu shelter.

“This will do for the night.” He said with a nod.

“Oh whoa! How'd ya do that, gramps?” Larson asked in amazement as his gaze flickered between Hasson and the newly grown lean-to. Larson wasn’t ashamed to admit that seeing such a magical sight brought out his inner child. In his opinion, it just made it easier to be the ten-year-old others would think he was.

“What kind of mysterious old elf in the woods would I be if I didn't have a few tricks up my sleeve?” Hasson stuck out his chest in pride. Nothing like a child's honest praise to boost one’s ego.

While Larson was bombarding Hasson with more questions about his magic, Galdon’s stomach decided to voice its opinion.

“I guess that means it's dinner time.” Hasson chuckled before looking around the small clearing. “Well then let’s see, since Galdon did most of the fighting today let's let him catch a break and focus on collecting firewood. And since you seem to have tons of excess energy, Larson, you can go try and hunt something for dinner.” The two boys quickly agreed to their respective task before dashing off to complete them.

Larson weaved his way through the sea of tree trunks, looking for anything that could qualify as dinner. He halted as the faint sound of rustling reached his ears. Not being able to see anything due to the underbrush, he quickly scampered into the tree closest to him. Now with a higher vantage point, he could see a type of deer standing lazily in the distance. It was slightly bigger than your average deer with an impressive set of horns, and for some reason, it was a rich green color. As he stared at it, he began to wonder if it was even edible. Feeling a hint of trepidation, he decided to appraise the creature before taking any action.

Fern Deer

Level: 8

HP: 80/80

MP: 50/50

Figuring he might as well just go for it, he soon discovered a problem. So far, he’d been one-shotting nothing but slimes, only to have them dissolve into nothingness. If he killed the fern deer would it simply vanish after death too? As he pondered how to deal with the situation, the deer continued to graze, blissfully unaware of its impending doom.

Lowering himself from the tree, he crept slowly closer. As he closed in, he noticed all the small rocks littering the forest floor. His eyes seemed to brighten as a lightbulb went off in his head. Picking up a few he stored them in his item pouch before making his way back to the earlier tree. He’d gotten the pouch from Hasson back when he first started adventuring in the forest. According to him, they were common items nearly everyone used. They had a set amount of space where almost anything could be stored.

With a good deal of stones in his arsenal, he positioned himself on a branch with a clear view of his target. ‘Alright system, any assassin worth his salt has some sorta throwing skill. I’m counting on ya to hook me up.’ He prayed in his head as he aimed the rock in his hand. Using all his strength he hurled it towards the deer's head. Sadly, it missed by a hair's breadth, instead, it hurtled past the deer’s head and shattering against the tree beside it.

“Shit!” He quietly exclaimed as he rapidly prepared another stone. The fern deer was aware of his presence now and was staring at him, ready to bolt at any second. However, the system didn’t let him down. Just as he pulled his arm back, with a happy ping, a system alert box appeared in his mind.

Congratulations!

You managed to tap into some of the heritage left to you by your parents. As such you've managed to learn the Assassin's Skill [Lethal Throwing].

[Lethal Throwing] is a passive skill that's activated upon receiving. With this skill, you'll be able to note the best way to throw any projectile in the most lethal way possible.

Happy Hunting!

Taking back all the curses he'd previously tossed at the system before, he now mentally sang its praises. Afterwards, he took a deep breath and calmed his mind. Thanks to the added support of the new skill, he could now see and feel the best way to throw the rock. Mustering all his strength again, he slung the stone with an almost audible snap. The pebble made a high-pitched whistling noise as it whizzed through the air.

Sensing the incoming danger, the deer tried to run, but the rock was faster. With a sickening smack, the stone collided with the deer’s temple. After staggering for a moment, the fern deer collapsed to the ground, the life fading from its eyes. True to its name, that shot to the head was lethal. Cheering loudly, he fist-bumped the air before climbing down the tree to collect his first successful hunt.

Returning to the clearing as night descended with his prize hung over his shoulder, Larson couldn’t hide the smug look on his face.

“Took you long enough, I was starting to think I’d die of old age before you returned.” Hasson joked from his seat next to a roaring fire.

“Behold, I bring meat!”

“Is that a fern deer?” Galdon asked as he licked his lips in excitement. He’d only had fern deer a few times, but he would never forget its taste.

“Sure is, hunted by yours truly.” He said while mimicking the way Hasson had puffed his chest out earlier.

“Alright, stop bragging, brat. Bring it over to the edge of the clearing and I’ll teach you how to do a proper field dressing.”

After a few gag moments, and about four teasing ‘weak stomach’ jokes from Hasson, they were able to finish dressing the deer. Leaving Hasson to finish preparing for dinner, Larson returned to the fireside. He sat down next to Galdon, a good bit paler now than before.

“I never would have thought blood would affect you so badly.” Galdon ribbed.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve only handle slimes so far in my life.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Slimes don’t bleed,” Larson stated plainly. Hearing that Galdon nodded in agreement while Larson flopped backward onto the ground, signaling that he was more than done with the current conversation.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully as they ate a filling dinner of herb roasted deer meat. As the fire began to die down, the boys crawled into the lean-to, yawning in the process. Meanwhile, Hasson took a seat near the outer edge of the shelter. With another snap of his fingers, a cluster of smaller roots created a makeshift door. Cozily enclosed in their root igloo, they all settled in for the rest of the night.

It was deep in the night when all at once the roots making up the shelter started to quiver with excitement. The next instant a deafening howl came from deep within the woods. Hasson’s eyes snapped open immediately as he awoke from his meditation. Next to him Galdon groggily opened his eyes as well. The only one unaffected was Larson, who was dead to the world thanks to sleep mode. Reaching over, Galdon tried to wake him up but to no avail.

“Don’t bother trying,” Hasson said as he continued to stare towards the distance. “He becomes dead to the world every time he sleeps. Even cold water won’t wake him.”

“Isn’t that kind of bad?” Galdon asked in concern.

“No use worrying about it at the moment.”

The roots covering the entrance parted and Hasson stuck his head out, gazing out into the night. A deep roar full of anger rang out again, closer this time. He frowned as the branches of the trees around them began to sway. A slight breeze that seemed to be carrying the secrets of the forest swept past his ears, causing them to twitch. His frown deepened as he hurriedly got to his feet.

“Galdon, if I tell you to run, you must grab Larson and flee towards the church. Do you understand?” His voice was grim as he started to draw a rune in the air with his fingers.

Galdon’s stomach sunk as he heard Hasson’s words. Flashes of the previous times he’d been told to flee echoing in his mind. He felt like he was on pins and needles as an intense wave of terror washed over him. His breath quickened as his face went pale and his body began to shake. Not hearing a reply from him, Hasson looked over his shoulder. Seeing the child on the verge of having a panic attack, he stopped working on the rune and quickly turned around. Kneeling before the boy he pulled him into a hug, gently rubbing his back.

“It’s okay, Galdon. Breathe. It’s going to be alright.” While keeping his ears tuned to the state of the forest, he steadily reminded Galdon to breathe, trying to calm the young boy. It wasn’t until his breathing began to even out that Hasson released him from his embrace. Still on his knees, he looked him in the eye and rubbed his head before speaking in a soft voice. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. The reason I asked you to be ready, was because if the oncoming fight manages to get out of hand, you both could get injured as collateral damage. So, if the need arises, I want you to carry Larson, and the both of you retreat to the safety of the woods. I apologize for not explaining it better earlier. But there’s no need to fear.”

He continued to reassure Galdon until a breath of wind filtered past his ears again. Not wanting to panic the boy again, Hasson kept his movement slow and steady as he stood back up. Ruffling the kid's hair, he turned back towards the unfinished rune still floating in the air. With his voice still soft and assuring he began to give Galdon a run-down as to what was coming towards them.

“The trees have informed me that a King Slime has been born. After thinking about all the slimes that we’ve been killed lately, I’m not too surprised. According to the forest, it’s currently rampaging and heading in our direction. As a Keeper of the Trees, it’s my duty to put an end to it. As such I’m placing a protection rune here to keep both of you safe. I don’t think it’ll be needed, but better to be safe than sorry.”

With a dim flash of yellow, the rune sunk into the earth and a pale barrier surrounded them. “That should do it,” Hasson said with a satisfied nod before turning to face Galdon once more. “Like I said earlier, if I say run, or if this barrier vanishes, run into the woods towards the church.”

Galdon nodded, his fear from a moment ago having faded, determination taking its place.