Daelan panicked instantly. Dark mist burst from his skin and coiled around his body in a reflexive surge as he stared at his friend collapsing under the slime.
Aria stood frozen. Shock locked her muscles in place. She had no idea why the slime attacked Calder.
But before either of them could react further, the slime abruptly peeled itself off Calder's face.
It sprang backward and landed on a cluttered desk, settling there like a quivering green droplet.
"HA—AAAH!!"
Calder's scream ripped through the room. He scrambled backward on his hands and kicked against the floor until his back hit a shelf.
His face had drained of all color, leaving him ghost-white and shaking. His eyes bulged wide, and his breath came in several sharp gasps that bordered on hyperventilation.
A thin cut marked his forehead, just above his brow, where the slime had grazed him. A bead of blood slid down his temple.
He shot to his feet in sheer panic.
"I— I almost died! That thing almost killed me!" Calder yelled, jabbing a trembling finger toward the slime.
He grabbed a small knife from his waist. It was a compact blade fitted with a strange mechanical device along its handle, and aimed with both hands at the slime.
Daelan quickly raised an arm. "Calder. Don't."
"Don't?" Calder snapped, voice cracking. "There is a monster in my house, Daelan! A monster that jumped on my face! And it almost suffocated me!"
"I don't want to kill you," the slime said suddenly.
Its voice matched Calder's exactly in tone, cadence, everything.
Calder froze in shock.
The color drained even further from his face. His eyes widened in absolute horror.
"It… it can talk," he whispered. "And it used my voice." He swallowed hard, unable to look away.
The knife in his hand shook so violently the metal clattered against its mechanical housing.
Even Daelan stood stunned for a moment.
But Aria realized that if she didn't act immediately, the situation would spiral out of control.
She stepped forward quickly and raised her hands in front of the two men.
"Listen," she said, voice trembling but firm. "The slime isn't bad. It won't hurt you unless you try to hurt it first."
"Then why did it try to kill me?!" Calder demanded, still pale and shaking.
"I… I don't know," Aria admitted. She turned toward the slime. "You'd better explain yourself, slime. I can't help you with this."
The slime shifted on the desk, then answered calmly, "Alright. I was curious. You have mana that is… different… from the flow I see in the humans and monsters I have met. Your mana does not travel through your body but into your brain. It makes you… think… better. I wanted to understand that."
Aria blinked. There was a whole complete vocabulary now that the slime had spoken. Its intelligence had risen even higher than before.
Daelan frowned, surprised. He had always known Calder was smart, but the fact that a slime could analyze that on first sight startled even him.
"Just as I thought, this slime isn't simple," Daelan muttered in his mind.
Calder blinked slowly. His sharp mind raced through the slime's explanation and what it had done and connected the two together. He wiped the blood from his forehead and stared at it.
"So you took my blood to understand me?" he asked.
"Yes," the slime replied.
Calder lowered his knife at once. His expression shifted entirely.
The anger vanished, the fear faded, replaced by fascination and pure, unfiltered curiosity.
"What are you?" Calder asked. "You can't be a normal slime."
Aria bit her lip hard. She had no idea what to do anymore. The slime had revealed itself, its intelligence, its voice, and its ability to analyze mana.
What if these two men tried to capture it? What if they reported it for money or personal gain?
"I don't know either," the slime said. "I woke up at the bottom of a Dungeon and… suddenly, I had desire and curiosity."
Calder fell silent.
Daelan beside him remained just as quiet.
Both men wrestled with the idea of a sentient slime, a creature that broke the rules of nature and Dungeons.
But while Daelan was a warrior who approached danger with caution, Calder was an artificer. He was a tinkerer, a thinker. His curiosity burned stronger than his fear and caution.
Calder finally turned to Aria, his face bright with excitement. But when he noticed the stiffness in her posture and the fear frozen on her face, he immediately softened his expression.
He knew Aria was afraid. He saw it in her eyes. She'd been through too much. Those eyes looked far too similar to the eyes he saw on himself.
"Don't worry," Calder said gently. His voice carried a warmth he rarely showed. "You're safe here. No one will hurt you."
Aria didn't look convinced. Her shoulders stayed tense.
"Are you hungry?" Calder asked.
Aria opened her mouth to refuse, but her stomach grumbled loudly before she could speak. Redness rushed to her cheeks.
Calder chuckled softly. "I'll get you dinner. Just wait a moment."
He hurried to the trapdoor and climbed up the stairs without another word.
That left only the slime, Aria, and Daelan in the room.
The slime turned toward Aria. It felt the tension radiating from her—fear, unease, uncertainty.
"Aria," it said softly, "it's alright."
It used the most appropriate words it could think of at this moment to calm her down.
The moment she heard its voice, some of the tightness in her shoulders loosened. Her breath steadied.
Daelan watched this from the side, quietly absorbing the scene.
So she trusts the slime more than she trusts people, he realized. And honestly, who could blame her?
He had seen what humans were capable of, what they became when greed or cruelty influenced them.
Aria's reaction didn't surprise him. If anything, it told him she had survived more than she ever should have.
"Aria," Daelan said gently, offering a small, warm smile. "So that's your name. I just want you to know you're safe here. My friend and I, we're not bad men. I know trusting us won't be easy. I understand that."
He didn't move closer. Instead, he walked over to a far corner of the room and sat down cross-legged, creating distance so she wouldn't feel trapped or threatened.
He rested his arms on his knees, keeping his posture relaxed and open.
Minutes passed quietly.
Then the trapdoor banged softly, and Calder descended the stairs with a tray piled high with food.
Steam rose from the bowls, carrying the smell of warm broth and freshly baked bread.
"Alright," Calder said cheerfully, setting the tray on a clear table "Dinner's here."
—