Young Writers Society

The kingdom of Itozan was once a peaceful place. Visitors would flock from neighboring regions to admire its natural beauty. Though, like any other kingdom, it was filled with monsters, Itozan and its visitors had relatively few issues with its monsters. But then King Ithos died, and his son – the just Ximum – came to power. The monsters took offense to the area's new ruler, and an enemy rose from the depths of darkness to fight against his kind rule. Known simply as the Slime King, he commanded hordes of monsters at his disposal. Some believe he may have once been human, while others believe his origin lies among the slimes he leads.

But wherever his past truly lies, it does not matter. After King Ximum took the throne, reports of villages ravaged by monsters began to flood Itozan's capital and the surrounding cities. The monsters leave few in their wake. The only survivors have been ushered into the kingdom's castle, and all have been so traumatized that they haven't left it since.

King Ximum has sent the royal army to defeat the Slime King and end his reign of terror, but none of the troops have been successful. They have all been outwitted or defeated by the monstrous hordes. The king – and his kingdom – have grown desperate. Few wish to risk their lives. As such, King Ximum was left with a single option: band together a group of unlikely heroes and set them off into the wilderness with the promise of a reward – should they succeed.

Can you and your party defeat the Slime King?



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It had always been a talent of his to find forgotten spaces, and, today, he put it to good use. After a short bit of searching, he found a tree that laid abandoned in the center of Itozan's bustling capital. The only people who acknowledged its presence was a group of children playing ball a short distance away. Some gave him inquisitive looks when he approached, but a warm smile underneath his bandages made any apprehension they had fade.

He made himself comfortable among the tree's roots, resting up against its dark brown trunk.

He retrieved his tablet for the bag he had placed beside him. There had been no message from Nakhem since they had last spoken, but that was for the best – he wanted to send one last one before he left on his journey.

To my dearest Nakhem,

The day has finally arrived. I've spent the past week preparing for this quest – for whatever horrors we'll face along the way, and for whatever people end up traveling with me. I hope that we'll be able to get along. I'm used to the occasional glance or suspicion, but it grows tiring when I keep being met by the same actions.

Please take care of Myst while I'm gone. You know how to reach me if she does something unexpected – which is likely, considering that the bird never wants to stay put. I will let you know if anything comes up that will lengthen the time of our quest.

I can only hope that I'll have made friends out of my fellow travelers by the time that our quest is over. If not, I suppose you'll have to allow me to host them at your residence, as food and comfort do wonders for friendship. There is the added benefit of your dwelling being more guarded than the taverns I have spent the past months at; one can never fully trust strangers.

Best of wishes, Nakhem, and may we see each other's faces in the nearest of futures.

Sincerely,

Erevan Lalian

As he went to return the stylus and tablet to their rightful places in his bag, he suddenly found the children's ball being hurdled at him. He likely hadn't been the intended target, but he caught it regardless. The children marveled at the quickness of his reflexes, and watched with wide-eyed wonder as he returned it to the nearest one.

“Who are you?” one of the children – a young tiefling girl – asked, looking up at him as he grabbed his bag from the tree's base.

“My name is Erevan Lalian,” he said, with a small nod of the head. He glanced up at the sky. The sun had not yet reached its peak; he still had time before the group was required to meet at the gates. With the message to Nakhem taken care of, all he had left to do was meet them there.

He turned back to the children.

“May I join in on your game?” he asked.

There was no discussion needed – the kids all nodded and cheered as he placed his bag down on the ground once more, and the game of ball resumed.

Ren sat in their one-room cottage on her straw tick, checking everything in her knapsack. Waterskins. Compass. Dried meat. Hardtack. Change of clothes. Medicines. Flint and tinder. It was all there, and yet she felt as though - she knew - she was leaving something behind.

She peered out the window to see her father discussing weapons. She was going to leave him behind in her quest, and that made her heart sink lower and heavier in her chest. Ren heaved the knapsack over her shoulder and stepped out, catching her father's attention.

He stopped talking to his apprentice and hurried over to her. Before she knew it, she was wrapped in a hug that nearly crushed the breath out of her lungs. “I'm ready to go,” she whispered to him.

“My Ren, my beloved Ren.” He squeezed her in his muscled arms even tighter, his embrace telling Ren what he could not say. “I want you to stay.”

Ren looked up. The blacksmith's eyes were filled with tears, and when she touched her own eyes, they were wet too. “Father...,” she whispered. “You know I cannot.”

“And I can't force you to stay either. Not because the king wishes it, but because you want to.” Father swallowed. “You know, the hardest thing about being a parent is not when your child is difficult, it is when they must leave.” He leaned forward and spoke in her ear. “Come home quickly and make me proud, Ren, not because you have killed the Slime King but because you went on such a journey.”

He stepped back and the two studied each other, memorizing the other's features, figure, scars, expression, knowing that a reunion would not happen for a very long time. Ren was the first to break off. “I promise you I will be back soon to pester you again and again till you get tired of me. I promise I'll come back maybe wiser and less clumsy. I promise you, Father, I will be fine. So...good-bye.”

He nodded and raised a hand in farewell, too, as Ren started from the bustling center of the castle. Others nearby—servants, merchants, mages, soldiers—waved at her as she walked past and shouted after her. Ren's heart swelled with sadness at the thought that she would have to leave everybody, especially Father. She dared not look behind her, afraid that it would make her stop.

You wanted to go, she told herself. You wanted vengeance for your clan. The Slime King's evil invasion into the land had claimed the clan her mother had hailed from, one of the clans of nymphs scattered in the dark forest to the east. Day after day, when the benevolent King Ximun had been accepting refugees, Ren had longed to see the clan members she had grown up with. Not one passed through the gates of Itozan, and she had to swallow the truth that they had become one with nature, as all things eventually do.

She walked faster, clenching her fists, till she reached the gates of the castle.

“Good luck, Elementalist,” a guard said as he let her pass into the main marketplace. “And—and—wait.”

For the first time, she turned around, tilting her head.

The guard pulled an amulet from his pocket. It was a necklace made of coarse cloth and an etched stone. Though the one King Ximum had presented her with earlier was much more elaborate, Ren appreciated the simple gesture. “Thank you,” she said, taking it from him, shoulders. “Thank you. I will treasure it always.”

“I know you will save us,” the guard called after her as she resumed her walk, and his words made Ren suddenly aware of the magnitude of hope the castle residents placed on her, and the other traveler's shoulders. She clenched the rough stone in her fingers, wishing the strength of their hope would save them all.

Kaicella

The deep calls of an owl echoed through the woodland, the lone sound under the nocturnal blanket of silence but for the beating of Kai's heart in her chest and the murmur of leaves as her winged shadow followed her. Her quarry was near, she could sense it. Every step brought her closer to the pale-furred, night-stalking, monster that had come from the north and hunted her woodland's creatures more than they could handle. The predator that was now her prey.

A shimmer of something glinted in the starlight and she froze. Her breath came out in pale clouds in the air and she knelt, muscles straining to preserve her position perfectly. Claws sank into the grass-covered loam of a forest clearing and a scaly nose dipped into the singing brook. It was reptilian, and almost white under the night's silver cast, with red eyes that gleamed in all their serpentine glory. Muscles rippled under thick hide and it moved with a grace known only to the most supreme of creatures. A furry, almost squirrel-like tail hung in the air behind it, crackling with energy.

It was beautiful.

Her blades glistened as they silently left their sheathes at her back. She'd covered the inside in the fur of a bear she'd felled long ago to prevent her prey from detecting her presence when they were removed. The beast before her didn't even twitch as its tongue dipped into the crystal water of the stream. It was powerful, unconcerned, confident in its presence as any beast of such magnitude should be. She wished it could roam these woods forever. However, if it did, it would merely hunt the local beasts to extinction and be forced to move on to do so again, and again, and again, until it got back to wherever it belonged. If it ever got back to wherever it belonged.

Still, it would be her honor to be the one who stood beside it when it took its last breaths, to be the force of wild wind and raging adrenaline that forced it to return to the earth from whence it came.

It settled its weight back into its haunches as it raised its head and looked upwards, studying the sky. Whether it searched the stars or something much nearer was impossible to know. It could not speak, but it very well could dream.

And now, it dreamed its last dream.

The hunter's bare toes touched the duff, slowly pressing it into the soil as she put one foot in front of the other. Not a single twig snapped, nor did a leaf crumple; she may as well have been a part of the woods herself. As she reached it, she slowed and stopped, allowing it to have peace for the last time.

And then she lunged.

Sinews and tendons worked alongside muscles to move the well-oiled machine that was her nameless quarry as a humanoid shadow sprinted towards it. Golden eyes turned crimson and her blades flashed in the moonlight as she leapt.

Her rear hit the ground as it lunged, ivory fangs snapping at the air where her head had been as she slid under it and her sword flashed forward to strike its leg. It stumbled forward as scarlet stained a once-green earth and bloodied now-murky waters and she rolled back onto her feet, pivoting to strike again. No matter how big or strong a monster, all it took was a single hit to slay it--one just had to know where to strike.

She hadn't hunted any creature such as this before, but she did know one thing: in almost all creatures, the neck was vital. There was a heart pounding in their barrel, too, and should that be struck they would fall. Don't try to stab through the front of their chest, however, for it was well-armored even in the avians; attack from the side, and only the side, through the ribs and into the lungs and the heart. Should she miss one, she would almost certainly strike one or both of the others.

With something as large as the beast she now faced, however, she couldn't hope to pierce it like she would smaller quarry. Her blade probably wouldn't reach a vital area in the torso even if she tried. Thus, she was left with but one target: the neck and the head, which she would hit when it turned to attack again.

What she hadn't expected was it to strike with its tail.

Upon missing her with its fangs, the beast didn't turn to face her; rather, it whipped around in a circle and the white fur of its near-prehensile appendage crackled with lightning she saw too late. She ducked but all it took was a few hairs to brush her shoulder as she tried to dash out from under it, and the jolt arched through her body.

She fell, blades slipping from her fingers as she hit the ground and pain lanced through her. It wasn't the kind of pain that was akin to white-hot metal or the freezing touch of winter. No, this was different from what she'd experienced before. This was overpoweringly kinetic, trembling in her veins and making her feel as though she would explode. The world spun and flashed around her and her fingers grasped the grass in a vain attempted to steady herself through the tremors that might've been in herself or in the earth.

There was movement, and a shriek, and the rush of adrenaline flowed through her.

Her partner.

A flash of feathers dashed through the air and talons met scales, sending the creature into a tailspin as it tried to dislodge the winged beast that now bound to its face and struck towards the eyes. Kaicella scrambled to her feet and the sky righted itself, her mind clearing as her familiar joined the chase, scooping up her blades once more before she spun around to engage in another attack. This time, she cut close to the flank to avoid the swinging tail as it thrashed its head side to side. It let out an unearthly shriek that made her ears ring as it reared up onto its hind legs and hit the ground with unsurmountable force to dislodge its avian attacker and buy it a few moments with the earth-bound one. The ground shuddered beneath its force and her comrade flew through the air, hitting the lush grass with a solid thump where it rolled and stood, dazed and disoriented.

Kai herself stumbled, nearly losing her footing, and in those precious few seconds, its head made contact with her chest. It flung her backwards and she felt a much more familiar pain strike her as she hit the ground with a similar intensity to that her hawk had experienced. Her blade flew out of her fingers and landed beside the rushing water, meters away and far out of reach as the silver monster bounded forward and, in a single leap, pinned her beneath its claws. Talons dug into the leather that barely protected her flesh and she felt warm blood well up as onyx claws met her arm. It raised its head, fangs revealed once more in the starlight as it prepared for its final strike.

The back of her left wrist hit the ground and her own claws extended with a shnk. It dropped with lightning speed, her arm left the ground--

--blood bathed her as her talons made contact with its neck, right where the back of its jaw connected, and its teeth hit the ground to the side of her. It jerked back and stumbled, ripping her weapons from its side as its stance wavered and it fell to the ground for the final time.



Kaicella pushed herself back to her feet, the pounding of her heart fading and the pain disappearing into the dim background as she approached her dying quarry. The beating of wings sounded behind her as her familiar alighted upon her shoulder and she knelt beside the head of the monster whose lifeblood joined the river below.

Its crimson gaze met her now-gold ones and she rested her hand against the side of its face in a gentle caress. "Hush, my dear," she murmured, her forehead meeting its cheek. "Be still, and return to the earth that bore you. The stars have sung your song this night."

The roots of the trees. The glimmering of a nighttime sky. The chorusing of distant frogs. The warmth of the slowing pulse that pounded against her hand and the last, shuddering breaths of a creature whose unique beauty was unrivaled. The woman, the bird, the beast, the woods around them, became one. There was no human. No hawk. No monster. Nothing but the essence that was life as much as it was death.



The woman stepped out of stirring waters, the last bits of crimson washed away with the morning. Her bird had miraculously been unharmed, and though the wound in her own arm still throbbed, it was nothing compared to the near-lethal strikes other creatures had inflicted in years past.

The flesh of the creature she'd dubbed simply "Temper maal"--"of the storm," in the tongue of her ancestors--was being visited by the vultures, ravens, coyotes, wolves, cougars, bears, and numerous other beasts of carrion that were near starved for a meal. Its massive form had more than enough for all, and that wasn't yet counting the fungi and bacteria that had likely already made it a home. Its skin hung on thick rope strung between two trees in front of the small wooden structure that served as her home. A cabin, of sorts, though the door was merely old hides stitched together and the walls were but thick branches she'd woven through one another.

She reached for the fur that awaited her on a nearby log and pulled it around her shoulders as she made her way back to her home and ducked inside. A small fire crackled in its center, surrounded by stones, and her hawk perched on the piece of driftwood she'd fashioned into a bow-like shape for it to rest on. She sat next to the flickering flames and let them dry her, leaning back.

Had that truly been what could very well be her last hunt here?

Tomorrow, she would put her few belongings into a bag and start for the capital where she'd been summoned by a king. The letter had shown up on her doorstep a few days ago. Apparently, a few local villages knew of her presence, and had put together that it was she bringing down the alien monsters that had begun to threaten this place one at a time. Her survival skills--and her hunting ones--were evidently something the leader of men required. The source of the monsters was someone known as the "Slime King," a being who'd risen to power since the last human monarch had died and was responsible for upsetting the balance that Kaicella fought so hard to preserve.

That was the only reason why she'd agreed. Human matters didn't concern her. They had their place in the world, and she had hers, and they had been separate until now.

This would be the greatest hunt of her life. A potentially deadly one, but a necessary risk. A smile graced her lips at the thought. Any quarry that was worthy was of interest to her, even if she disliked how far away it would be and how it would pull her from her home.

That was how she would end up in the capital a fortnight later, standing alongside the ragtag group of warriors that would eventually become her closest allies and embarking upon the greatest hunt of all.

Pharin enters the capital city. He has read about it, seen illustrations of it, even observed it from a distance as he travelled, but he was astounded nonetheless. The city was a sprawling hub of civilisation that greedily devoured land from miles away. It was like an entirely new planet to Pharin, one of stone, cluttered with buildings that jostled each other for space. One of bustling streets, and technology unrivalled. He thought back to his hometown, nature covering it like a shroud. A cloak that hid his fellow elves from developing as a society. Pharin could not accept that. Why must they hide like insects under rocks, when they could outperform these humans with ease. He would show his fellow elves that this was the way to live, and that they could build a city to make this one seem like a miniscule microcosm in their sprawling sea of empire.

Despite the grand exterior, Pharin could sense the dread that hung in the air like a foul smog. People wore thin masks of happiness, of contentment. But they were all terrified. They all knew that the king's forces had been crushed, scattered like dust. They were horribly aware that the Slime King's soldiers were practically clawing upon the gates. A noose hung of their heads, each and every one. It was tightening with every passing second.

Pharin strode up to the nearest guard. The man's face was as cold and hard as his armour. He was just as sullen as the other humans he had met on his journey. Pharin showed him the letter from the king which had accepted his offer to be sent on a suicide mission. The guard's stone face cracked and twisted in bewilderment, however, he nodded and led Pharin through the city.

Unbeknownst to the guard, or Pharin, a messenger had just stumbled up to the gates. He delivered the news that the Slime Army had reached within fifty miles of the city, and that it would soon be under siege. Panic tore through the city like a plague, people abandoned their pretence that nothing was wrong and trampled each other trying to escape to safety. Within less than an hour, the streets were a sea of hysteria. Pharin watched the show with contempt (especially when his own guide ran off into the crowd.) How could these humans be so quick to abandon their own kin? How could they stampede each other like a horde of frenzied elephants just for their own lives? These were the questions he asked himself as he he trudged towards the castle. Pharin expected to hear of how the king had been spirited away to safety, just like the rest of these foolish creatures, but he was shocked to see the king standing outside the castle. His voice was like thunder as he tried to rally the mob and quell their panic. Pharin looked on with surprise and admiration at the tenacity of a king who was willing to stand among these wild animals, at the risk of being attacked by a crowd who was desperately searching for someone to blame. This human was different to the other cowards who littered the streets, Pharin concluded.

Pharin showed his letter to the remaining guards at the castle. He entered into the great grim gates to meet his fate. He felt fear gnawing on his insides, but shrugged it off. He would not cower away in fear. Not now.

Zai On — H.E.L.L.I.O.N
First devil of Compound Forty-Three

•Type-1. They could only be described as tiny blobs of various colors, usually green or yellow. They had what looked like tiny spikes that circled around the top of their shapes; spikes that shone right before they turned themselves into an acidic puddle that inexorably moved towards whatever was their targets. In this form, they had a tendency to move in a straight line.

Zai On lifted her eyes from the paper she calmly reviewed to look at the sight below her vantage point.
Screams of agony. Despair of the complacent. Death of dozens.
Among the chaos that unfolded below her feet, Zai On looked for one thing in particular: a group of human soldiers using specialized spears to stab what looked like advancing puddles of a strangely persisting yellow liquid, atop of which could be seen tiny green spikes. One of them moved underneath the feet of one of the soldiers, whose shout joined the concert of others as part of his metallic boot began to melt away. More Slimes advanced towards him, and as a result, more humans fell back.

•Type-2: Exclusively yellow-colored, these Slimes lack spikes atop their round shape, instead featuring purplish bubbles inside of themselves. Soldiers have managed to defeat them by stabbing through it multiple times (instead of just once or twice, for the Type-1s). They seem to have an ability which allows them to merge with each other to become bigger; after which all their injuries are healed. However…

Zai On once again lifted her eyes from the paper, gazing at another part of the battlefield. A group of human soldiers were locked in fighting against three giant Type-2 Slimes, who were slowly diminishing in size due to the amount of strikes they were receiving.

...Unless they fuse to a large enough extent, they become powerful, but big enough targets to be taken out quickly.

•Type-3: They usually come in brown or silver colors. They’re larger Slimes, unable to liquify themselves, or even fuse: however, they seem to have elemental properties. The brown ones, here referred as Type-3b, can ignite themselves, thus healing whichever injuries they have and systematically setting fire to everything they touch. If other Type-3bs come in contact with said fire, they also ignite and heal themselves, while further propagating the fire to other places.

This time, Zai On didn’t need to look up to confirm that the information given to her matched what happened on the field: she heard, smelled and very much felt the heat of the various fires from which civilians were fleeing or dying to.

Then, the silver ones, or Type-3s, could spontaneous electrify themselves, thus healing their injuries and moving at increased speeds: a feat they used to out-maneuver soldiers, or catch up to civilians and kill them.

•Type-Prime: N/I

“No information.” Zai On muttered. “Understandably.”

“So?!” a voice shouted behind her. “Can you do something, or what?! You’ve been stan-”

“Shush.”

“NO! I won’t—”

Without further warning, Zai On took a swift step towards the soldier that had just spoken to her and kicked his armored stomach, sending him flying several meters away. The rest of his squadron looked at him as he hit the ground, a visible dent in said armor.

“State your name.” Zai On calmly demanded to the man on the ground. One look at his figure told her that he was very much angry. “And before you attempt to strike me, look at your armor and listen to your body’s pain. It should give you an idea as to what will happen if you do.”

A silence followed.

“...Estilian.” The man said, eyes glued on Zai On. “Squadron Captain Estilian.”

Zai On nodded. “Your concern and ability to keep calm in such desperate times is appreciated, Captain Estilian.” she locked her gaze with him. “This is no joke. About your accusation, allow me to once again make it clear: I am a Shepard — in other words, a user of Herd-based Magic. While I am here, reviewing the report you gave me, I also manage my Silkwings so that they can properly heal those who need it. But they are just as much in danger than any other living being that isn’t a Slime. And I care about your soldiers as little as you care about them. So, their safety is my priority. Still, they are doing their job.”

“Are you done with the report, then?”

“Yes.”

“Then what happens now?”

“Now, I strike. Exactly where I need to to halt the advance of the Slimes.”

“People are still dying.”

“But my Silkwings aren’t. I am your sole healer. If I cannot heal, then none of you are getting back up on your feet. So, if I am not careful, we all die.”

Estilian closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “That makes sense.”

“I’ve seen tragedies before. I understand you, but this particular one isn’t personal to me. Still, I accepted this work, so I will see it through.”

Gather, and become the wings of my endurance. Zai On thought.

Immediately, an army of glittering blue spheres rose from all corners of the battlefield, directly themselves towards the sky. Then, they assembled to form one, massive sphere, directing itself towards Zai On’s position. She looked at the lone Silkwing left on her shoulder. Stay here, Col. I still need you separated.

I know. The Familiar replied. Go kick ‘em.

With this, Zai On handed the report to Estilian as the Silkwings merged within Zai On’s body, only for her cinder gray skin to emit a faint glow. She caressed the hilt of the sword at her belt, then opened her hand. Then, in a flash of light, appeared: a blade composed of a simple gray-colored handle from which could be seen a serrated blade forming an almost C-shaped arc, ending in a pointy tip designed for stabbing. Below the pointy tip was located a round rotor emitting a blue aura that spun inside continuously.

The Winmillion was fully charged.

“Regardless of my inability to emotionally empathize with humans such as yourself, please accept my apologies, Captain Estilian.” Zai On declared as she swung her sword with relative satisfaction. “I like to know what I’m up against before rushing in.”

“Well. I guess that’s probably why you’re still alive.” Estilian commented. “...Sorry for my outburst.”

“It is. And you are forgiven. Now... To battle.”

******

It began with a bell’s rhythmical tingles: herald of a massacre to come. Though Zai On’s steps were silent as an assassin’s, the Beast Bell she wore as a necklace betrayed her presence, but she was too fast for the first Slimes to register — a squadron of five Type-3sils.
Zai On ran towards her targets at full speed, then abruptly skidded on the grass-filled ground and used her momentum to twirl in place and drop her arm, thus performing a downward slash to strike her foe with the precision of an executioner’s ax. She twirled again as she removed her blade and crouched in the same movement, this time to perform a powerful lateral slash to cleave the enemy in two. A purple sphere appeared in the middle of the slime’s wounded body: but not for long, as Zai On crushed it with her foot before leaping forward, lifting both arms as the rotor of her Winmillion began to move. A blue light engulfed the blade, and Zai On struck, slicing the second Slime in half, alongside the core that kept it alive.

Three left. One moving. Wait.

Zai On simply froze as the rotor of her Winmillion continued to spin. Finally, the three Slimes began to move towards her, but before they could even activate their special ability, Zai On turned back and slashed again, this time to create a blade of air created thanks to the charging rotor. The spinning disk passed through the slimes, destroying the core of the first one, and exposing those of the two survivors. Then, Zai On ran towards them, swung her blade as she passed, and it was over.

Done. Next.

Always preceded by the tingles of her bell, Zai On moved from squadron to squadron, destroying every slime she met without fail. She knew exactly where to strike, and had the mastery to understand when to strike. On top of it all, her entire army of Silkwings allowed her body to function with no loss of endurance, could empower their Artifact (the Winmillion), and should she take damage, they’d cooperate to heal it almost immediately. She was, effectively, an unstoppable war machine: and before long, the tide of the conflict turned. But defeating slimes was but one aspect of the task she threw herself into.

“Do not fear.” she said to every soldier she helped. “I am Zai On, your helper. You must regroup with Captain Estilian: he is securing the field behind me. Follow his orders and take any wounded with you. Is that clear?”
Speedy nods and desperate thank yous were the usual replies she got, and she replied with a nod of her own. As she looked at the soldiers and townsfolk, she mentally kept notes of the amount of wounds they had, and began to organize her Silkwings and organized them in shiny squadrons with very simple orders: to heal their targets until they were back to full health, then rush back to their mistress and re-merge with her body as soon as they were done.

“Soldiers,” Zai On said to another group, “I am Zai On, your hired helper. You must regroup with Captain Estilian, who is securing the field behind you.” she pointed at the Silkwings fluttering around her. “These healing creatures shall accompany you until they are back to full health. If you see any wounded I have not seen, you can order them to help them. Is that clear?”

Though fighting was but a banality to Zai On, managing her Silkwings alongside so many people proved to be much more difficult. As she continued to dash and slash, she couldn’t help but spare a thought for the king of this land, using tools, aides and his wits to manage his kingdom and everyone in it.
Then, finally, Zai On stopped her rampage, looking around her as she realized that no slimes were left to pollute her sight. As she scanned the quiet battlefield, feeling slightly light-headed. Her Silkwings suddenly came back to her side, giving her a burst of much needed energy.

“Lady Zai On!”

Without turning back, Zai On already knew that the voice belonged to Estilian. “Lady?” she repeated, more intrigued by the use of the word than the noise of several dowens of footsteps at Estilian’s side.

“Y-yes. Lady.” he hesitated. “Is that not your gender?”

“I am a woman, yes. I am merely surprised that you would use the word ‘lady’ for me. Is that not a title of nobility?”

“It’s also a mark of respect used for, um… someone of the female gender.”

“Hmm. I was not aware. Are those soldiers beside you ready to do battle once more?”

“Either that, or assist you for anything else. Did the slimes run away?”

“Your assistance shall not be required any longer unless I fall. As for the slimes, they have been defeated. Except for that one.” she used her free hand to point at a single, barely visible slime that stood atop a hill, away from the battlefield — as if it supervised it. It was blood red in color, with a crown of brown horns circling its cylinder-shaped body.

“Definitely the commander of this attack.” Estillian commented. “Is that why you want to take it on alone?”

“The full might of my Silkwings rests within me, so I will not die easily. That will give you plenty of time to analyze its movements and deal with it should I actually lose. However, your assistance isn’t needed for a different reason still.” Placing a hand at her belt and unsheathed the physical blade she hadn’t used so far, revealing it to be an almost exact copy of the Winmillion, except for the fact that it was green in color, and its blade wasn’t serrated.

“Simply put: I will not lose, and I shall not have any of you take more damage than necessary.” she declared as she slowly walked up the hill, to the encounter of her final enemy. As the rotor of her blades roared to the point where both of her arms shook from the sheer power building up within the two rotors, Zai On witnessed an unforeseen phenomenon: liquids of various colors began to fly from somewhere behind Zai On towards what most certainly a Type-Prime. Before her eyes, the slime grew from the size of a small mouse, to the size of a gigantic blob of around three meters. Its crown of horns had grown with it, becoming sharper, thicker and pointing towards Zai On, ready to impale her. However, Zai On saw that the purple core inside its body had also grown bigger. Meaning that she’d had to hack through her enemy’s protective body in order to hit it.
Ignoring the shocked gasps of soldiers behind her, Zai On slightly bent her knees, spreading her arms to lower the strain of the rotors’ power.

One hit. Zai On estimated. With both blades out and such an exposed core, one powerful hit should be enough. Still, she let a tiny grimace temporarily decorate her face, aware that she would not enjoy the pain that would follow the hit — after removing the influence of her Silkwings, that is.
The casual thought almost made Zai On miss the slime’s subtle bounce, as well as the discreet disappearance of one of the horns of its spiky crown. It only took a second for Zai On to connect that strange phenomenon with the sudden trembling of the ground at her feet: she then leaped forward, narrowly dodging an abnormally thick spike coming out of the place she previously stood on. This, however, seemed to be the slime’s plan all along, as it suddenly performed an impossibly fast dash, thrusting its body forward as another spike appeared on the front side of its body. During a fraction of a second, Zai On had the time to realize that the monster in front of her was at least as fast as the speed-oriented Silver slimes she had observed previously, despite being several times bigger. At that moment, Zai On very much understood why people struggled so much against them. One Prime could outmaneuver several dozen of squadrons without breaking a sweat, and impale them with just as much ease.

Slimes were terrifying.

But then, Zai On vanished. For a short moment, the slime abruptly stopped itself and seemed to direct its improvised horn upward: but before it could complete its movement, two crescent-shaped blades of energy cut through the center of the monster’s body as if it were soft clay. Zai On landed behind her enemy, turning back to watch it slowly melt as its core disintegrated. For a split second, it lit up, then finally disappeared for good. Zai On frowned, unsure of what that meant: but she had no time to think about it. Her senses were immediately overwhelmed by two things. First, the cry of triumph uttered by the large group of humans that had watched her short battle. Second, the pain.
Zai On had exceeded the limits imposed by her Beast Bell, and she was already suffering from the consequences. Her entire body began to ache, and she could feel her bones trembling inside her body. If it wasn’t for her Silkwings, she’d have already collapsed without a scream.

Walk. Get to the castle. Report to the King.

Zai On slowly opened one of her hands, and her Winmillion disappeared in a flash of light. She did, however, kept her other blade, the Spur, and used it as a cane to walk down the hill, thank the humans for their support, and refuse all physical contact.

“Are you alright, Lady Zai On?” Estillian eventually asked in the middle of the crowd. He and several other soldiers seemed to notice Zai On’s difficulty to carry herself.

“There is a price to pay for my ability, Captain Estillian.” Zai On revealed. “I am ill; the kind of ill that doesn’t yet have a cure. But don’t let that spoil the taste of this victory: though my life is painful, it is not hopeless. I must go see the King and answer to his summon, now. I trust that you take care of things here?”

Estillian chuckled. “Well. That’s my job.”

Zai On smiled. “So it is. ‘Til we meet again.”

“Safe travels, my lady!”

Estillian’s parting words were repeated countless times by the fellow humans of the crowd, and Zai On decided that they deserved a friendly wave from her as she slowly left, walking with the undying support of her beloved Silkwings.
When Zai On arrived at the castle’s doors, a group of people — certainly the other people summoned by the king — were already assembled, visibly waiting for her.

“Greetings.” Zai On began. “You may refer to me as Zai On. I trust you can forgive my rather pitiful entrance: It seems as though the frontlines are still as unforgiving as ever.” She managed to slowly straighten up, then placed her Spur back in its sheath with a swift and dexterous movement. “At any rate, my health is of no concern to you just yet. Shall we be going?”