As soon as my vision returns, all I can hear is a painful wail. The turtle is slowly rousing from sleep.

  I’m no fool—I wouldn’t dare get near the giant beast if the heir survived. She’s pelting the beast with arrows, but only because of her agility. Agility that I lack.

  The earth trembles beneath my feet, making me lose my balance with each step.

  A flash of silver flies over me. What looks like some kind of attack turns out to be the slimes rushing toward me. Instinctively, I know it isn’t an attack.

  Splitting from the group, six slimes envelop my body, covering me in their goo. The weirdest one is the palladinum slime on my head. For a moment, the air leaves me, suffocating, as my vision blurs under its translucent body.

  It changes in a few seconds. My breath and vision return, and I slowly perceive the armor now encasing my body.

  I expect it to look like some sort of jelly armor, but instead, it resembles a medieval suit—though way cooler.

  It isn’t bulky. As I take each step away from the awakening turtle, I can’t tear my gaze away from it. The armor doesn’t hurt me or impede my movement.

  It hugs my form as if it was made for me, the way high-fashion custom clothes are said to fit. Each plate interlocking seamlessly, offering no restriction. It’s as flexible as if I’m naked.

  Even my vision isn’t compromised. My eyes can see clearly, as though there’s no helmet protecting—or obstructing—my view.

  With segmented pieces along the armor—legs, torso, and head—fitted pauldrons curve smoothly over my shoulders, making it look more like a high-ranking military officer’s power armor than an ancient knight’s gear.

  I can’t see any openings. It’s as if I’ve been encased in metal.

  A flowing white cape covers my back, making me look like some kind of knight in shining armor. Another detail catches my attention: a small metallic dagger on my left side, more symbolic than practical, its sheath bearing the image of the woman from the coins.

  The armor’s color is, as expected, a silvery white, but strange red reliefs adorn it. One prominent design shows the woman from the coins on my chest—one side human, the other with an open mouth full of lamprey-like fangs.

  I’ll have to check with the slimes about the design later.

  What matters most right now is the giant turtle now glaring at the sky.

  Getting back into position behind the skinned tree I’d used earlier, I watch as vines erupt from the turtle’s open mouth, slick with blood.

  The soil grows wet from the dark red liquid flowing from the giant turtle’s mouth, as though someone is spilling barrels of paint across the forest floor.

  I can’t shake the nausea rising in my stomach—or the awful premonition creeping over me. Yes, what would give the turtle a stomachache? A spoiled vampire.

  "Fucking asshole can’t die!" I mutter. I feel sorry for the turtle, but there’s no way I’d wait for the vampire to leave its body.

  Before I can act, new voices flood my mind—this time more cohesive and synchronized.

  "...I feel recovered. It’s not the end of us! Din should have been left behind. Din, happy to be here! Funny turtle, funny turtle. Turtle dying smells like death, will die soon..."

  No doubt it’s the slimes, now a little easier to understand, thanks to the bond, I bet.

  "The problem isn’t the turtle; it’s the vampire inside her. That’s the only thing that could be killing her," I say. I don’t see how I can kill her, but maybe the slimes can offer something. "You’re more communicative now. Tell me what you can do aside from being armor."

  "...Can move master or make master strong. Past master used tendrils to move. Stick jelly, stick jelly. Din is dumb; his tendrils can’t catch things! Din not dumb!..."

  Alright, that seems somewhat useful.

  I make a mental command, asking the slimes to make me stronger... but I don’t feel any different. Seems they don’t work that way.

  Let’s see how it works in battle.

  I command the slimes to retrieve my shotgun, and they do as promised. A tendril shoots forward, grabbing my shotgun from nearby. Another command, and they clasp it to my back, beneath the flowing cape.

  Grabbing it, the shotgun comes off easily, as if held by some kind of magnetic clasp. The viscous substance left behind is definitely ooze. When I put it back, the shotgun clasps into place again. These slimes really know how to be armor.

  "And what about you two—Mia and Geen, right?" One is a weapon, the other a bag. Incredibly weird, but maybe incredibly powerful. Soon, their mindspeak reaches me as the turtle continues vomiting blood like a macabre fountain.

  "...Mia deadly weapon. Past master proud..."

  "...Geen keep treasure safe. No treasure? Geen eat!..."

  Right. Even with the bond, they’re still slimes. How should I speak to them? Like kids, chatbots, or pets? Hmm, maybe like how people speak to orcs in fantasy—their speech patterns are eerily similar now.

  "Alright, what did your past master make you two do?" Better to ask; it would probably work.

  "...Mia took master’s dog for a walk..."

  "...Geen helped staff clean stables..."

  It couldn’t be this hard, right? Fuck.

  "No, no, no. What did he make you two do in battle?" Last try. That turtle seems to have one paw in the grave. Time is running out.

  "...Mia change to complex weapons! Past master said weapon difficulty to make. No problem! Mia can!"

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  "...Geen keep blood supply, jewelry, coins, and vase collection safe. Geen also kept weapons and shards safe, but past master used to fight red knight."

  What could I use a vase collection for?! Blood—maybe I could make use of that. The coins must be those weird ones with the female vampire on them. Probably a better idea to sort through Geen’s stash later.

  As for Mia...

  "How many weapons, Mia?" Variety could indeed be deadly.

  "...One!..."

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  "Why just one weapon?" I really should have been pumping these shards. These slimes really scammed me.

  "...Past master always said, only improve weapons you know how to use by heart!..."

  This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, especially if you only know one.

  "What weapon can you become, then?" I wish their past master had been some sort of gun aficionado.

  "Sword! Jelly Blade!"

  Right. The most generic weapon imaginable—made of jelly! I’d be better off fighting with a popsicle.

  Wait, no. They wouldn’t make something useless just to die. He must have prepared for the succession! Unless the guy was mad—why keep a vase collection?!

  "Transform into it for me and tell me what it does," I say. I don’t like to command people, but they’re slime. I don’t know how the communication and social hierarchy work between us.

  The slime obeys, and the dagger at my side begins to change its form like a living organism until it transforms into a thin, short blade—slightly smaller than my forearm. I wouldn’t call this a sword.

  As I try to draw it from the scabbard, the sheath itself is absorbed into the short sword. The gleaming blade reveals itself, its luminescent form transitioning from orange at the tip to red where it meets the pommel. In a way, it’s beautiful. Strangest of all, the pommel is dark gold—perhaps one of the deceased heir’s wishes. Good taste.

  "...Jelly Blade! Mia attacks, Mia defends, Mia traps. Master needs all but command!! Mia made this herself!..." That’s... great.

  I don’t know if it’s my mind trying to distract me from the mayhem ahead or just me being stupid. Whatever. I do what I want, especially in how I’m called.

  "You all can call me Henrique between us. For others, just call me..." Being called "master" or "heir" would probably be a death sentence here. "Master" gives off creepy vibes. Would the armor design do the same? "For others, just call me... whatever you guys think would be a good name. It doesn’t matter."

  The slimes become quiet, not saying anything. Before I can talk with the slimes and ask about the armor designs, the turtle’s situation finally changes. Its body convulses, eyes rolling back into its head, as if the beast is having a seizure.

  It seems I haven’t been totally scammed. The tremors rock through my body, but the armor absorbs most of the impact, leaving only a small vibration. I don’t lose my footing—the armor works like some kind of suspension system.

  Slowly, a grotesque creature begins emerging from the turtle’s mouth. That thing really looks like a lamprey—its body slim, its mouth taking up almost its entire head, its beady black eyes locking onto me.

  Without delay, I activate my divine blood, pumping. Wait—the slime—

  Before I can explain about the blood to the slimes, droplets of blood appear on my gauntlet, as if sprouting from nowhere. I won’t waste my time asking the slimes how they knew what to do, using my time for the blood manipulation to move a blood sphere upwards.

  If one shot doesn’t work, let’s try two.

  Soon, a feminine voice invades my mind.

  "Elysia?! Shouldn’t you be dead, dear sister?! Impossible!"

  The voice talks again, taking on a mocking edge. "It doesn’t matter. I’m going to finish the job our siblings couldn’t. When I become ruler, I’ll fix this failure in the succession system."

  Its beady eyes trail over my body. "Your fondness for these abhorrent slimes is laughable. When Father brought you one, it was just his way of saying you’re a failure. Hahaha! Only that mad Anwen found any use for his." Its eyes move to the blade in my right hand. "Wait, isn’t that—"

  Like I’d wait for her to finish. Maybe this would’ve worked on the armor’s past owner, but for me, it’s just useless.

  The orb of blood, now the size of my head, glows as I activate my Blazing Ray, focusing on the turtle’s giant mouth. My energy drops to half. Finally, something that feels like true magic—maybe not on par with my world’s armaments, but enough to land me a nice job in the military. Good. If I want to keep this up, though, this degree of power, I’ll need even more energy, more shards.

  The Blazing Ray scorches the air, hitting my target dead center. The vampire has time to pull most of its body out of the way, going deeper inside the turtle—but not enough.

  The giant turtle regains consciousness, its dead eyes locking onto me. Fuck.

  "...Hot, hot! No burn! Henrique dumb! Should do it far away from poor us! Din’s fault!" The slimes assault my mind with their protests, though the palladinum slimes stay silent. They seem to be made of sterner stuff.

  My legs start moving, carrying me behind the turtle. Good luck trying to bite me now.

  The burning blood spurts into action, even as I can’t see the flames, I bet it’s hurting both.

  My legs start moving, carrying me behind the turtle. Good luck trying to bite me now.

  The beast coughs up blood, black spots soon appearing on its body. In a sudden movement, the giant turtle charges after me like a mad beast.

  No problem, my body feels like I’m running on clouds, fast as an Olympic runner—but without any exhaustion. It feels like I’m jogging, not overworking myself to the bone. The flowing cape makes me look cool as hell.

  The bad news? My energy is depleting. Only one way to fix that.

  Time to hit two targets with one shard.