Iris was so close to the secret within the pyramid; she could feel it calling for her, but the three automatons were standing in her way. They were pure white, with black lines and joints along their body. Unlike Quasi, whose body emanated the vitality of the living, the White Puppets exuded an air of stagnation, yet their eyes gleamed like the living being.

They were the White Puppets, the last test for the Destined One. Because any visitors inside had already possessed the qualification, the corridor was not a death trap, but its difficulty would be insurmountable for many.

The great imperial family would never allow the weak and the ordinary to enter; the test would challenge the Destined One to the limit. The White Puppets would adjust their power according to their enemy. If Lenmia were here, she would have to face five White Puppets at the Transformation Phase, seven White Puppets at the Condensation Phase for Amplicia.

Iris was a Peak Stage Metamorphosis Phase Monster Girl; the White Puppets were also at the same level, numbering three: a lancer, an archer, and a mage. They positioned in the classic triangle formation, waiting for Iris to make the first move.

Knowing that she couldn't use her disguise to force through, Iris put the black card into her body and dissolved her robotic appearance. Her dark blue slime quivered and dripped on the metallic floor, forming a small pond beneath her two slender legs. As she moved, her smooth, bouncy membrane melted and merged, turning watery.

She gradually retreated, moving her hands in front of her chest, protecting the Shadow Heart Core, condensing droplets of hardened slimes on her palms. Despite her sluggish appearance, her movement exuded elegance and meticulousness, taking control over the rhythm of the battle.

The Lancer didn't follow Iris and stuck the butt of his lance on the ground, leaning onto it. Behind him, the Archer drew her bow. As the bowstring stretched, pale electricity flashed on the grabbing hand and extended into an ethereal arrow. Meanwhile, the Mage had already fallen on his knees, placing his hands on the ground. From his fingers, orange lines emerged and painted an unknown array.

"Each one as strong as me, isn't this too much?" Iris shouted. "I request one-on-one duels. There is no honour in bullying with the number."

The Lancer snickered, took out his lance, and pointed it at Iris. His stance shifted to a defensive position, his dull eyes watching every movement. The other two White Puppets didn't say anything, but they also had no intention to compromise.

"We would be foolish to fight against Lady alone," the Lancer said. "Lady, you are a Destined One, someone who defies fate. We are mere tools and will stand no chance against your miracle might."

Iris's eyes flashed, but she didn't say anything. With no choice, she gradually walked forwards, her posture still cautious. If she didn't force conflicts, she would fall into the passivity and let the Mage finish his preparation; her premonition told her she shouldn't drag the battle.

The Destined One would not be cowardly; Iris would fight and win splendidly.

Entering the Archer's range, Iris snapped her fingers and twisted sideways. Her liquid body easily bent while the sharp droplets flew towards the Archer, who released her electric arrow. Like its sparkling appearance, the arrow left a clear electricity trail as it instantly reached Iris, missing only a little. Though the sparks couldn't harm her body, they still shocked her mind, turning her momentarily sluggish.

Despite being slower, the droplets flew towards the Archer undetected. They were small and non-reflecting, passing through the air with minimal noises. When the Archer sensed them, she couldn't dodge all of them in time, her arm drilled by one of the droplets. It sank into her mechanical body and wiggled inside, destroying the circuit, sending electricity flying.

The Lancer immediately changed his position to protect the Archer and rushed towards the strolling Iris, aiming his lance forwards and thrust. Its tip broke through the air, generating searing noises as the black metal heated blood-red. His speed far surpassed Iris. Once she tried to dodge, he had already stabbed into her right leg.

Though they were at the same power level, the White Puppets had specialised their strength and weakness, while Iris was well-round. She didn't have time to think over the detail, causing her to miscalculate.

The heat from the lance boiled her slime, hurting Iris. She wailed, yet her hands reached forwards and grabbed the burning lance, then pulled. As she exerted herself, her body collapsed into a wave, falling onto the Lancer, who didn't expect the suicidal move.

Ordinary Slime Girls wouldn't dare to fight in close range; their core was too fragile. If cracked, it would take months to recover. Unlike them, Iris didn't have a core. Her consciousness permeated the slime. Though the pain she suffered from the heat was greater than ordinary, her specialness allowed her to fight up close, eliminating the Archer's interference.

The two tangled as Iris reformed around the Lancer, coating him with her sticky slime. As she hardened her membrane, the Lancer madly struggled, but they had practically merged, too close for the lance to do anything. Still, Iris had to keep moving her core around the Lancer, dodging his cold, swift strikes.

Under the Lancer, a puddle of slime quivered and ruptured. Iris emerged, her left hand turning into a sharp drill. The Lancer quickly twisted himself, leaning backwards. Iris missed, but her right hand seized the Lancer's chin and pushed. Though she was weaker than him, she only needed to do a little to ruin his balance.

After he fell, Iris jumped and landed on him, gripping his neck. With her drill raised, she stabbed onto his chest, but the Lancer didn't fear death. He swung his burning lance towards Iris, trading blows.

The White Puppet didn't feel pain, but Iris did. She trembled, yet her hands kept slamming onto the Lancer, piercing his armour, filling his holes with slime. Sparks flew out of his wounds, yet he remained unwavering. His other hand clenched onto Iris's waist, dragging her onto him.

His pale-white body shook and dissipated black smokes through the black gaps, his skin heating until it turned crimson. Blazing flame erupted from his joints, followed by bursts of electricity, electrocuting Iris. Even the Shadow Heart Core slightly trembled under the rising temperature.

Iris's mind blurred as her slime slowly lost its shape, numbed by the electricity, evaporated by heat. The aching pain assaulted her, rupturing her hardened membrane. She stopped attacking and started defending, parrying the burning lance. Because of her liquid body, she easily slipped away from the Lancer’s grasp.

The Archer pulled her bow, arching it before the breaking point. The arrow three times the size of the first one manifested and soared through the air, sending streaks of lightning onto the walls and the ground, leaving no room for dodging, its speed incomparable to the previous one. The air around its trajectory cried in a distorted voice as it combusted into a trail of fire.

The world suddenly lost its colour, time frozen. The Shadow Heart Core violently jerked Iris, startling her awake from her concentration. A flash of light sparked in front of her as she shifted her momentum, sliding down towards the Lancer, hugging his burning body.

The lightning arrow pierced through her head, which burst into a balloon of water, instantly vapourised.

She lost her body mass by a third; the lightning also grazed the Shadow Heart Core but did no damage. Iris felt the world spun hundreds of times as she collapsed and reformed, yet her grip on the Lancer never loosened. She would have screamed if her head were still there.

The Archer didn't draw another arrow, her arms trembling. Sparks rose from the wounds Iris inflicted. Using the time Iris spent in pain, the Archer stabilised her condition by performing a first-aid version of the automaton. She couldn't kill Iris alone and thus chose to reserve her strength until the Mage finished his summoning.

The Lancer couldn't battle anymore. He activated his overdrive function, burning Iris, leading her into the trap, but he didn't completely succeed. While Iris still suffered from the lightning arrow, she was on top of him, her liquid body soaking his robotic body. The electricity shocked Iris mindless, but it also destroyed the Lancer. Its heat melted his circuit, crippling him.

Iris quickly regained herself, kneeling on top of the Lancer, her hands still restraining him. After collapsing and reforming, her slime had infiltrated the Lancer's body and fried his circuit. White smokes seeped through his black gaps and joints. His mechanical eyes slowly ceased movement.

The Archer sidestepped, standing in front of the Mage, gripping her bow. Her entire body shook, not from fear but solemnity. Instead of one, three arrows of different appearance manifested between her fingers: one fire arrow, one frost arrow, and one electricity arrow. She pulled the bowstring and waited. Shooting three arrows reduced her accuracy, but she only needed to drag out time.

Iris panted. Her newly reformed head strangely hung low. She slowly rose from her knees and stared at the Archer. Her dull unblinking eyes concealed within them ripples which traversed across her consciousness, generating strange hymns that triggered her self-preservation. The elegant air around her disappeared, replaced by an unhinged disposition, like a depthless abyss full of mysterious phenomena.

Her clouded mind brightened. Her eyes moved from the Archer to the Mage, then to the Lancer beneath her feet. The frustration and the pain and the useless thoughts vanished; only the unwavering desire to win remained.

If she entered the battle of attrition, she would inevitably lose. The three White Puppets were as strong as her and had superb coordination. Their overall power was greater than her; the conventional battle would not propel her to victory, but it did not mean she possessed no advantage.

They had their advantage, but she also had hers: she was a Slime Girl. She first used the long-range attack to injure and pressure the Archer and the Mage, forcing the Lancer to block or come close. His speed was out of her calculation, but she was prepared and let him stab her, enduring the pain while pulling him in.

Though she instantly took down the Lancer, the arrow of lightning took a third of her body and evaporated her head, even just by grazing. For the second time, death loomed above her, suppressing her scattering thought. Her chaotic mind turned serene, motionless like death itself.

No ordinary person could endure the loneliness of her past life.

Her death-like eyes locked onto the Mage as she slowly pulled out the lance which stabbed into her lower body. The flame on it had already dissipated after the Lancer perished; its physical damage couldn't do anything to Iris. She felt nothing, no pain, no pressure, no excitement.

Looking at the three arrows pointing at her, Iris held the lance and stepped forwards. Her movement lacked the elegance and the softness of a cute Monster Girl. The air around her froze, radiating dull noises of her footsteps.

The Archer could feel the change in Iris's manner. Uncertainty rose in her heart, but she had to protect the Mage if she wished to defeat Iris. Her eyes darted around and found nothing, yet her intuition trembled as if Iris was dominating the battlefield.