Mimi’s ears perked up. “I remember something about that. Glaz Insects are actually really important to dwarves.”
Belamus blinked. “They are?”
He’d never heard that before. In his previous life, dwarves had been virtually unknown. Their societal intricacies were unfamiliar even to someone as well-read as he was.
“Yeah,” Mimi said, nodding. “When male Glaz Insects finish mating underground, they die there. And when that happens, there’s this tiny little bug that feeds on their corpses. It’s called an Iron Worm. They’re about the size of a pinky finger, and get this, they produce iron.”
Belamus’s brows lifted. Now it made sense.
“So, the Iron Worms depend entirely on Glaz Insects to survive,” he mused aloud. “And dwarves, being a species that consumes metal, must depend on the iron those worms create.”
“Exactly,” Mimi said. “Most of the metal dwarves eat every day comes from Iron Worms. If they ever disappeared… a huge part of our population could starve. People have tried to find alternatives, but nothing’s really worked so far.”
Belamus studied the incessantly buzzing insects with newfound respect. Just moments ago, he’d written them off as noisy nuisances. Now, he realized they were a critical part of the dwarven ecosystem, a vital link in a supply chain that literally sustained a species.
So, they’re not just pests, he thought. They’re lifelines.
He furrowed his brow for a moment.
Didn’t they have some kind of special condition for evolving…? The thought tugged at his memory, but the detail eluded him. Well, considering how often they’ve reproduced, it must be a simple condition. Probably something instinctual.
Even so, he made a mental note to refresh his memory. Something so vital deserved proper understanding.
“If Glaz Insects are here,” Mimi said, peering around, “then the ground below must be directly over the Kingdom of Crystia.”
Belamus nodded slowly. “So, we’ve made it this far… And we’ve fought monsters, but no sign of dwarven assassins yet.”
“Maybe they already assume I’m dead,” Mimi replied with a small shrug. “No one would expect a town hidden in the middle of a place like this forest.”
“That would be convenient,” Belamus said, though his tone remained cautious. Then he looked at her, brows furrowing slightly. “But there’s something that’s been bothering me. Even if they believe you’re cursed… why are they so intent on killing you after you’ve left the kingdom? Shouldn’t your exile have been enough?”
Mimi’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Who knows? Maybe they really believe the curse is that dangerous: that as long as I’m alive, disaster will strike Crystia, no matter where I am.”
“Either that or there’s something else going on,” Belamus murmured. “They might think it’s a curse, or perhaps this is just an excuse for something deeper.”
He let the idea linger but didn’t press it. The truth likely lay ahead, at the researcher’s facility. Until then, all they had were theories. With a sharp nod, he picked up the pace.
Several hours later, the group encountered another threat.
“What is that thing?” Mimi’s voice trembled with unease.
Up ahead, an amorphous, gelatinous creature blocked their path. Its entire body shimmered in swirling blues, reds, greens, and yellows, mottled together in a dizzying marbled pattern.
“A Rainbow Slime,” Belamus said grimly. “Troublesome.”
Among slimes, the lowest tier of magical monsters, Rainbow Slimes were in a league of their own. Stronger, more adaptive, and more annoying than their brethren.
One of the creatures launched a glob of liquid from its body, the same marbled colors swirling in the air. The shot arced toward Delarosa. It was slow and easily avoidable—or so it seemed. She sidestepped cleanly… until the blob abruptly curved midair and slapped against her side.
“Eww! It’s all sticky! Grossss!” she squealed, writhing in place. The fluid didn’t harm her, but the discomfort was immediate. “I can’t move! It glued me to the ground!” she cried out.
Rainbow Slime secretions were highly adhesive. Once hit, a target would be immobilized until either the slime was destroyed or the effect neutralized with specific magic. Simply tearing free was impossible.
Belamus assessed the situation in an instant. Freeing Delarosa from the adhesive slime would take time, and time was a luxury they did not have. It would be faster to eliminate the Rainbow Slime entirely.
He raised a hand, conjuring a volley of Light Arrows, and launched them at the gelatinous creature. But as the radiant bolts struck, he frowned. The damage was negligible. Even his magic, which was normally overwhelming, was barely leaving a mark.
The Rainbow Slime retaliated. Its marbled surface shifted hue, bleeding into a solid, angry red. A second later, it unleashed a wide, sweeping breath of fire.
Belamus responded instantly, creating a shimmering red barrier spell that flared up just in time to absorb the blast. The flames rolled harmlessly over the shield, leaving the group untouched.
“This thing’s tougher than it looks,” he muttered.
Switching tactics, he summoned Shining Spear, a gleaming lance of concentrated light, and hurled it with force and precision. As the spear closed in, the Rainbow Slime’s body shimmered again, changing from red to pure, gleaming white.
The spear struck dead center and did nothing. It bounced off like a pebble hitting steel.
Rainbow Slimes possessed a rare and troublesome ability: adaptive elemental resistance. Their bodies could shift color in response to incoming attacks, granting them full immunity to the corresponding magic element. In their usual marbled state, they showed mild resistance to all elements. But in the face of real danger, they instinctively adapted: white against light, red against fire, and so on.
Apparently, the Light Arrows weren’t seen as a significant threat. But the Shining Spear? That had triggered a complete defensive shift.
“Whoa! Even Belamus’s magic got blocked!” Delarosa shouted from where she was stuck, flailing against the glue.
“Okay, my turn! I’ll slice this thing up!” Navasha moved to draw her weapon, but before she could rush in, Belamus held out a hand to stop her, catching her just as her blade cleared its sheath.
“Wait,” he warned, eyes narrowing. “Rushing in won’t help, not against this thing. Physical attacks won’t work on it.” Belamus held Navasha back with a firm gesture. “We have to use magic.”
“What? But magic didn’t work either!” Delarosa shouted, still stuck to the ground and squirming against the slime’s grip.