"On it!" Tyro called out.
A splash near my feet had me looking down and wincing at what I saw. Pulped slime. They were throwing slimes at us.
It made sense. The slimes might be toxic, and they exploded on impact. Getting acid into my eyes was not something I was keen on experiencing either, and with the way the slimes tended to splatter, it was a real possibility. Of course, I had my mask on, but it was only rubber and I wouldn't trust it not to melt on contact with a strong enough alcohol, nevermind something much stronger.
Tyro shouted in glee and one of the goblins went down. One, the one that had run out of the tent, screamed then turned tail, which left one.
"I'll be back," Phillipe said. He let me go, and I just knew that I'd bruise around my sides where he held me. I couldn't complain though.
Phillipe ran towards the last goblin, deflecting a slimeball with a casual wave of his arm before he kicked the goblin then crushed it with contemptible ease.
I straightened up, then backed away from the little pool of slime juices around me.
The third goblin wouldn't last long. It had run towards one of the bigger tents and Tyro was already on his way over. I considered checking on the enclosures again, but... no, I had to focus. Clearing the area first was the smart thing to do.
It was tall enough that it reached my neck, and was much larger around. Within its semi-translucent non-flesh was the third goblin. It grinned cruelly at us, even as its skin bubbled. Whatever oil it had applied to itself wasn't enough, and it was clear that its eyes and hair were burned off already.
Still, the goblin pressed forwards and the slime started to blob its way towards us.
"Greater slime," Phillipe said.
"Uh... I don't know," Tyro replied. "Crush it?"
"Mmm, yes, but that's hard to do," Phillipe said. He jogged closer to the slime, his entire body twisting into a long swing of his hammer.
The hammer, of course, struck, but unlike with the smaller slimes, it didn't just burst apart and lose cohesion. This one grabbed onto the hammer and refused to let go, even as the impact made some of its body splatter out behind it.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Phillipe grunted and pulled his hammer back. It came with long tendrils of taffy-like slime that stretched on and on.
I... had no way to deal with any of this. The slime thing was rolling my way. Sir Nibbles hissed by my ear and I reached up to press him down. I wasn't about to let him jump into that, he'd die faster than if I [Blight]'ed him.
I raised a hand and pointed it towards the centre of the slime. My mana reached out, [Aura of Growth] guiding it forwards to press up against the slime. It seemed to like that, because it started undulating my way faster.
Then I turned my magic into [Blight]. My only truly offensive skill, and not one that was always practical. At the best of times it made things rot at an extremely accelerated rate. Necrosis set in, things deteriorated, sickness and infection found a perfect place to settle into. It was potent, but the human body was made to resist outside influences like that. [Blight] could take half a minute to scour away skin and start rotting away muscle.
Usually, it was a terribly ineffective, if horrifying weapon. Akin to trying to kill someone with an open flame.
Against a slime though?
I watched the slime's blubbery flesh writhe and hiss. It reminded me of boiling caramel, tiny bubbles formed where my mana pressed into it and popped with little spurts of sweet-smelling gas.
The slime started to roll away, regardless of what the goblin within was trying to do. I followed it, shoving my mana deeper in. How much of the slime did I need to [Blight] before it died? I brought up my mana stats and winced.
Mana: 34/51 Thษชs chapter is updated by ๐ท๐ธ๐ฟ๐ฎ๐ตยท๐ฏ๐ฒ๐ป๐ฎยท๐ท๐ฎ๐ฝ
I was burning through it faster than I cared to. I couldn't hit zero either. Every time I entered the single-digits it left me feeling weak and nauseous for the rest of the day.
Phillipe raced up, twisted the head of his hammer around to free it of the goop still stuck on, and then he raised it far above his head and brought it down like a railroad worker driving in a stake.
The hammer crashed through the slime, ripped past the goblin's skull within, then continued to crack against the floor, sending little rock shrapnel flying through the bottom of the slime's body.
I pulled back my mana, letting [Blight] wear off. The slime's side continued to hiss and splutter for a moment afterwards even as it started to deflate like a sad balloon. I stepped back a bit, not wanting to get any of that onto my boots.
"You didn't tell me about that skill," Phillipe said.
"You should always keep something up your sleeve," I said. "Besides, it's not that strong."
"Was that a skill-based spell?" Tyro asked. "Because that's at least a rare skill."
I shrugged. "Is that so uncommon?"
"Uncommon skills are uncommon," Tyro said. "Rare skills are rare." He rubbed at his nose, then shrugged himself. "Well, whatever. I'm sure everyone with a decent class gets something like that."
Phillipe chuckled. "Don't be jealous now. If and when we reach the core and you switch your class out, you'll probably land yourself a rare skill of your own. It's not too common for someone to try for a delver class."
"Is class rarity that important?" I asked.
Phillipe glanced at me. "It can be. I'm guessing you have something uncommon? No... no, you must have a rare class. I can't remember ever seeing too many people as informed about mushrooms as you."
"I guess mycologists aren't too popular," I said.
"That's not all that rarity is. A rarer class means more opportunities to have better skills. But I imagine you've put that together too. Just keep in mind that a strong class won't protect you from people who want to exploit you. In fact, it's very much the opposite."
I nodded along. Good to know.
"Are we done here?" Tyro asked. He kicked a goblin corpse aside, then searched the room with his gaze for more trouble.
"We are. Come, I want that break as much as the two of you. More maybe. It's no good turning old."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," I said.
Phillipe gave me the oddest look, which I answered with a cheeky grin.
I probably wouldn't be grinning so hard in thirty years when my knees started protesting, but hey, I had a while to get there.