Minoru did not slow down as the familiar rock face of the ravine came into view. The psychic scream of the Prismatic Egg was a drill boring into his skull, a constant, terrified feedback loop that overrode every instinct of caution he possessed.
He reached the fissure—the narrow, jagged crack in the crystalline rock he had squeezed through as a small, frail goblin just yesterday. He was different now. He was a Hobgoblin Variant, nearly six feet of dense muscle and Magoi-infused bone. He wouldn't fit.
"I'm Expanding the entrance," Minoru growled.
He didn't break stride. He activated Magius Armament, channeling a surge of energy into his right shoulder and arm. The dark, metallic aura solidified instantly, forming a heavy, jagged pauldron of pure force.
He slammed into the rock face at fifty miles per hour.
CRASH.
The sound was like a thunderclap trapped in a bottle. Stone shattered, dust plumed outward in a choking cloud, and the narrow fissure was forcibly widened into a jagged tunnel. Minoru didn't stop to admire his demolition work. He scrambled through the debris, ignoring the sharp rocks scraping against his new leather pants, and burst into the cavern sanctuary.
The serene, silent underground lake he remembered was gone. The air was thick with a pungent, acidic smell that burned his nostrils, smelling like burning rubber and ozone. The gentle blue glow of the crystals was being choked out by a pulsing, sickly violet light emanating from the center of the pool.
Minoru skidded to a halt on the rock shelf, his Hunter's Sense screaming a warning.
There, draped over the submerged form of the Prismatic Egg like a suffocating blanket, was a massive, amorphous blob. It was deep purple, translucent, and roiling with internal motion. It was easily twice the size of Minoru, a gelatinous nightmare that was slowly, methodically dissolving the outer Magoi shell of the egg.
"Get off my egg!" Minoru roared, his voice amplifying in the cavern acoustics.
The blob rippled. It didn't have eyes, but Minoru felt a heavy, malevolent attention shift toward him. A pseudopod of purple slime whipped out of the water, striking the rock shelf with the force of a whip, cracking the stone where Minoru had stood a split second before.
"Appraisal!" Minoru commanded, dodging sideways.
"Analysis complete," True Appraisal's voice cut through the chaos, cool and detached. "Target Identified."
Target: Lesser Demon Slime (Corrupted Construct)
Race: Demon / Amorphous
Magius: 950 / 1000
Affiliation: Chaos / Dungeon Origin
Traits:
• Physical Immunity: Non-magical impacts are absorbed and redistributed.
• Acidic Touch: Dissolves organic and inorganic matter to convert into Magoi.
• Core Reformation: Can shift core location instantly within body mass.
"Nine hundred and fifty Magius," Minoru hissed, circling the edge of the pool. "That's three hundred more than me. And it's physical immune?"
"Correction," True Appraisal interjected. "It is immune to blunt trauma. It is basically a bag of sentient acid. Also, look at the Magoi signature. It contains trace elements of artificial binding runes."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning this thing didn't wander in here to find a snack. Demon Slimes are typically deep-dungeon guardians or summoned entities. Either it escaped the Guardian Room through a waterway, or..."
"Or someone placed it here," Minoru finished, a cold fury settling in his gut. "A trap maybe? Or a decoy phenomenon?"
"Unknown. But it is currently eating your future. The Prismatic Egg's barrier is at 40% integrity. If the slime breaches the shell, it will consume the high-dimensional fetus inside. The Egg will die."
"Not happening."
Minoru leaped. He didn't aim for the slime directly; he aimed for a stalagmite protruding from the water near the egg. He landed, balancing precariously, and unleashed a Magius Armament punch directly into the center of the purple mass.
His fist, coated in the black metallic energy, sank deep into the slime. It felt like punching thick, cold mud.
Ssssss!
Smoke erupted from around his arm. The slime was reacting to the Magius armor, trying to dissolve it.
"Physical attack ineffective," True Appraisal noted unhelpfully. "You are just displacing its mass. You cannot punch a liquid to death, Minoru."
The slime counter-attacked. The mass surged up his arm, wrapping around his shoulder like a constrictor snake, pulling him off balance. Minoru felt the burning pressure against his armor. His Magius was draining rapidly just to keep the Armament active against the continuous acid damage.
He wrenched his arm free with a wet sucking sound, leaping back to the rock shelf. A patch of his new chainmail was sizzling, the steel links turning grey and brittle.
"Okay, punching is out," Minoru panted. "I can't cut it. I can't crush it. It has more Magius than me, so I can't overpower it with a raw energy blast."
"It is a creature of consumption," True Appraisal said. "It exists to eat Magoi. That is its only function. It is a stomach without a body."
Minoru looked at the writhing mass. It was already turning back to the egg, dismissing him as a non lethal-threat. It was hungry. It just wanted to eat.
A dark, intrusive thought pulsed from the Devourer skill sitting in Minoru's soul. It was a hunger that matched the slime's own. A primal urge to dominate the food chain.
"It wants to eat?" Minoru whispered, a savage grin spreading across his face, exposing his sharp teeth. "Fine. Let's see who has the stronger stomach."
"Warning," True Appraisal said, sounding genuinely alarmed. "You are considering consuming a Demon Slime. Its body is composed of corrosive chaos Magoi. Ingestion will cause massive internal trauma."
"I have Water Skin," Minoru countered. "I can absorb oxygen through my pores. I don't need my throat to breathe. I have Magius Armament to coat my insides. And I have Devourer."
"This is a statistically terrible idea. Survival probability is 18%."
"Higher than zero," Minoru snapped.
He didn't wait for permission. He activated Hunter's Stride and launched himself directly into the center of the purple mass.
He tackled the core of the slime, wrapping his arms around the bulk of the creature, burying his face in the gelatinous, burning flesh.
He then opened his mouth and bit down.
The taste was vile. It tasted like battery acid mixed with rotten blueberries. The shock of the chaotic Magoi hitting his tongue was like licking a live wire. Pain exploded in his jaw and throat, but Minoru forced his Magius Armament to coat his esophagus and stomach lining, creating an internal pipe of armor.
"Devourer!" he screamed mentally.
[Skill Activated: Devourer.]
[Target: Demon Slime.]
[Resistance Detected. Target is fighting back.]
The slime convulsed. It realized too late that the prey was biting back. It tried to pull away, but Minoru's grip was absolute. He tore a massive chunk of the gelatinous body free and swallowed it whole.
It burned. It burned all the way down. But the moment it hit his stomach, the Devourer skill acted like a metaphysical furnace. It broke down the chaotic structure of the slime, stripping away the acid and isolating the pure Magoi.
[Magius Recovered: +50]
"More," Minoru growled, biting again.
The predator became the prey. The Demon Slime, a creature of mindless hunger, felt true fear for the first time. It lashed out, whipping Minoru with pseudopods, trying to burn through his exterior armor, but Minoru ignored the external damage. He was eating the creature from the inside out.
He was a Hobgoblin possessed. He tore and swallowed, tore and swallowed. His Water Skin absorbed oxygen from the splashing water and the air, allowing him to focus entirely on the consumption without pausing for breath.
"Magius levels rising," True Appraisal reported, the voice sounding fascinated. "The Devourer skill is filtering the corruption. You are effectively drinking a Magoi smoothie. Note: You look absolutely disgusting right now."
Minoru didn't care. He found the denser, darker knot of purple matter in the center of the slime—the Core.
The slime tried to shift the core away, moving it fluidly through its body, but Minoru's Hunter's Sense tracked the heartbeat of the energy. He plunged his hand into the goo, grabbed the solidifying core, and shoved it into his mouth.
He crunched down.
shattering it's core into tiny specs of dust.
The Demon Slime instantly lost its cohesion. The purple mass turned to grey liquid, splashing harmlessly into the pool water, dead and inert.
Minoru fell back onto the rock shelf, gasping, wiping purple sludge from his mouth. His stomach churned violently as the massive influx of energy was processed.
[Target Eliminated: Lesser Demon Slime.]
[Magoi Saturation Increased: +400 units.]
[Devourer Successful. Assimilating Trait...]
Minoru lay on his back, staring at the cavern ceiling, feeling his body knit itself back together. The burns in his mouth healed in seconds.
[Skill Acquired: Physical Resistance (Amorphous).]
[Description: Reduces damage from blunt impact and constriction by 50%. Allows body tissues to become partially fluid to mitigate trauma.]
"I ate a slime," Minoru groaned, holding his stomach. "I actually ate a slime. I'm never eating jelly again."
"You saved the egg," True Appraisal said softly. "The barrier is regenerating. The distress signal has ceased."
Minoru looked over at the pool. The Prismatic Egg was safe, glowing with a soft, thankful rhythm. The purple pollution was gone.
"Yeah," Minoru muttered, closing his eyes. "I saved the egg. Now let me sleep. Digestion is hard work."
He passed out right there on the rock, covered in slime residue, a monster who had just out-monstered a demon.
While he lay unconscious in the depths of the cavern, far beyond the reach of ordinary folk, life carried on in a frontier town known as Oakhaven.
The town of Oakhaven was a bustling frontier settlement, a bastion of civilization before the sprawling, untamed expanse of the Whispering Woods. It was a town built on timber, ore, and the blood of adventurers foolish enough to delve into the ancient ruins scattered throughout the forest.
The Adventurer's Guild Hall was the heart of the town. It was a massive structure of oak and stone, filled with the smell of cheap ale, roasting meat, and unwashed bodies. The noise was a constant roar of boasting, bargaining, and brawling.
The double doors swung open, and the noise dipped slightly as four figures stumbled in. They looked like they had been chewed up and spat out by the forest.
Garen, the warrior, walked in front. He was wearing his tunic, his chainmail vest… and absolutely no pants. His hairy legs were bare, his boots looking comically large without trousers to tuck them into.
Behind him limped logan the rogue, supported by keel the archer. layra, the cleric, brought up the rear, looking pale and shaken.
They walked straight to the main reception desk, ignoring the snickers and pointed fingers from the other tables.
"Garen!" a voice boomed. A massive man with a scar running down his cheek leaned over the counter. This was Barnaby, the Guildmaster of the Oakhaven branch. "By the gods, man. Did you lose a bet? Where are your breeches?"
Garen slammed his hands on the counter. "I didn't lose a bet, Barnaby. I got mugged."
Barnaby raised an eyebrow. "Mugged? By who? Bandits? Did they take a fancy to your knees?"
"A goblin," Garen said, his voice deadly serious.
The Guild Hall went silent. Then, a ripple of laughter started at the back and rolled forward like a wave.
"A goblin!" someone shouted. "Did he steal your dignity too, Garen?"
"Quiet!" Garen roared, turning to face the room. "It wasn't a normal goblin! It was huge! Six feet tall! Green skin like emeralds! It moved faster than a shadow!"
"A Hobgoblin then," Barnaby said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "They are nasty, yes. But mugging you? Hobgoblins kill and eat. They don't strip search you."
"He didn't try to eat us!" Layra stepped forward, her voice trembling but firm. "He saved us."
The laughter stopped. Saving humans? That was unheard of. Monsters killed humans. That was the law of the world.
"We were surrounded," layra continued, her hands gripping her staff. "A pack of feral Hobgoblins. We were done for. I was... one of them had me. Then he appeared."
"He dropped from the sky like a lightning bolt," Keel added, his eyes wide. "He was wearing armor made of black magic. He punched the leader—punched him!—and the leader exploded. In One hit."
"Then he grabbed the others and threw them," Logan chimed in. "Like they were dolls. He roared at them, and they ran. They were terrified of him."
Barnaby frowned, crossing his arms. "So a Hobgoblin saved you from other Hobgoblins? Territorial dispute. You got lucky."
"No," Garen insisted. "He looked at us. He... he assessed us. He had intelligence in his eyes, Barnaby. Not animal cunning Intelligence. He demanded my armor. He pointed with purpose then made a trade. My gear for our lives."
"He took your pants," Barnaby deadpanned.
"He wanted the leather!" Garen shouted, his face turning red. "He knew the value of the gear! And then... he just left. He vanished into the woods. He looked like... like a King."
Barnaby sighed, rubbing his temples. "Look, you four have had a rough day. Trauma does strange things to the mind. You probably ran into a slightly larger Hobgoblin, got confused in the panic, and he stripped the body of a dead adventurer nearby, not you. The mind fills in the blanks."
"I know what I saw!" Layra cried out. "He had kindness in his eyes! For a second... he looked sad."
"Layra, please," Barnaby said gently. "Go to the infirmary. Get some rest. There are no 'Noble Goblins'. There are only monsters and the people who kill them. If this thing exists, it's a High Variant, and it will eventually come here to kill us all. I'll put a scout request on the board, but honestly? I think you all inhaled some Sporeshroom pollen."
The four adventurers looked at each other, realizing they wouldn't be believed. Defeated, they turned and headed toward the infirmary, Garen's bare legs pale in the lantern light.
As they left, Barnaby watched them go, his smile fading. He reached under the counter and pulled out a fresh parchment. He dipped his quill in ink and wrote:
Report: Unconfirmed Sighting
Entity: High Hobgoblin Variant / Unclassified.
Location: Section 4, Whispering Woods.
Behavior: Anomalous. High Intelligence. Possible Magic Use.
Threat Level: Unknown.
Note: Witnesses claim non-hostile interaction. Witnesses deemed unreliable due to stress.
He hesitated, then added a final line.
Keep watch and If it wears pants, it thinks. If it thinks, it's dangerous.
He rolled up the scroll and slotted it into the 'Pending Investigation' rack, buried among reports of lost cats and giant rats.
Outside, the sun began to set over Oakhaven, casting long shadows toward the forest where a green King lay sleeping on a rock.