Primordial Slime: I Devour The World

Chapter 40: Beyond the Forest

Two years ago, this place would have been a place of fear. Now it was a goal. Tanaka stood on a rocky outcrop overlooking the vast sea of trees that surrounded his territory. The wind was cool this morning and it carried the smell of pine and wet soil.

Behind him, the town went about its morning business.

Hammers rang from the forge.

Rabbits hummed as they hung laundry.

Slimes rolled past carrying buckets of water. The festival had left its mark on the settlement. Lanterns still hung from the eaves. Chalk drawings covered the walls near the square. The place seemed to be in better spirits than it had in a long time.

But Tanaka wasn’t smiling. The only problem was the world beyond the forest.

Tanaka knew it existed. He knew there were kingdoms and guilds beyond these trees. Entire cities and races. Markets, armies, politics, gods he’d never heard of. But it was all second-hand to him. Memories from a dead hunter. Rumors from refugee goblins.

Stories told around fires. Nothing he had seen with his own eyes.

The little slime bounced onto the rock beside him.

Boing.

It bumped against his knee and settled there, warm. Tanaka smiled, and some of the tension in his shoulders eased.

”I’ve been thinking too much, haven’t I?” The little slime bounced once. Tanaka took it as a yes and ruffled the top of it. ”You’re probably right. Thinking won’t change anything.” Later that morning, Tanaka held a meeting under the Crystal Tree.

Only the leaders attended. The Alpha Wolf, sitting with his tail wrapped around his paws. The Rabbit Leader, ears down in thought. The Goblin Elder, leaning on his stick. And the oldest moss turtle, who took a long time to get comfortable. Their thoughts merged together with Tanaka’s. ”I’ve made a decision.” Everyone listened. The Crystal Tree’s light dimmed slightly, like it was listening too. ”Soon, I’m leaving the forest.”

There was no surprise in the telepathic connection. They had all felt it in him. The Alpha spoke first, his mental voice steady. ”To fight?” Tanaka shook his head. ”To learn.” ”We’ve grown into a village.” He gestured with his mind to the homes, the gardens, the walls. ”We know this forest better than anywhere else. But we know little of the world outside.” The Rabbit Leader lowered her ears thoughtfully.

”Knowledge is as valuable as strength.”

”Exactly.” The Goblin Elder concurred, tapping his stick once. Then he added another thought, slow and heavy.

”If humans return again, we’ll need to know about them. How they think. What they want.” Tanaka nodded. That was actually his point. The real one he hadn’t said out loud yet. ”I can’t let my people down if something happens to me. If I’m gone, someone has to speak for us. Someone has to know their rules.”

The discussion quickly turned from Tanaka’s reasons to how he should do it. The Alpha wanted to send a pack of wolves with him.

”They’ll think twice before touching you.” Tanaka refused, and it hurt to do it. ”Humans would notice them immediately. And I don’t want any of you getting hurt because I was curious. If there’s danger, let it be mine alone.” The Rabbit Leader suggested a small escort. Two rabbits. For healing. Tanaka refused again, softer. ”The fewer the better. If I’m going to walk among humans, I have to look like I belong. Alone.”

Finally, it was the Goblin Elder’s tutn. ”Then go as what you appear to be. A human?” Tanaka looked down at his hands.

Smooth skin. Five fingers. No claws. No glow. If someone saw him on a road. They probably wouldn’t think anything of it. He suddenly remembered. He had never really spoken to anyone as himself. Games had filled him from childhood. Menus. Quests. NPC dialogue boxes. Not real conversations.

His stomach flipped. ”Well, how hard can it be?” he said out loud, trying to sound confident. The leaders didn’t laugh. They just watched him, and in their eyes was trust. The next few days were spent preparing. The goblins made a fine leather outfit fit for long journeys.

Dark brown, reinforced at the elbows and knees. Nothing flashy.

It was much sturdier than anything Tanaka had worn before, though it didn’t look like much. A dark green cloak was attached to it, which would help hide his face when necessary. The inside had deep pockets.

The rabbits prepared a small satchel of food. Dried berries, hard bread, smoked meat. Herbs. Various healing salves in small jars wrapped in cloth. ”You know I don’t really need food,” Tanaka said telepathically to the Rabbit Leader as she packed it. ”Perhaps,” she replied without looking up. ”But humans do. And a man who doesn’t eat is a man people remember. Eat.”

Tanaka blinked, then chuckled. The sound surprised him. ”Right.” The wolves also helped prepare. The Alpha spent three nights teaching Tanaka how to track. How to read footprints. How to tell if someone had passed through hours ago or days ago. ”Humans aren’t the only hunters,” he said, nose low to the dirt.

”Never ignore the ground. It tells the truth.”

Tanaka listened closely, taking in every word. He practiced until his legs ached.

While he had the memories of the bearded hunter, hands-on experience from someone who lived in the forest every day was invaluable. The hunter’s memories were fragments. The Alpha’s lessons were real.

One afternoon, Tanaka visited the Craft Quarter. The refugee goblin who worked there was stitching leather. He didn’t stop when Tanaka entered. He just held out a pair of gloves. ”They’ll hide your hands.” Tanaka raised an eyebrow. ”My hands?” The goblin nodded. ”Too clean.” ”Too clean?” Tanaka questioned. ”Traveling humans usually have scars. Calluses. Rough skin. You look like someone who’s never worked a day in his life.” Several nearby goblins nodded in agreement. One snorted.

Tanaka looked at his hands again. Soft. No marks. No dirt. ”I... never thought about that.” The whole workshop broke out in laughter. Not cruel. Warm. It seemed pretending to be human was more difficult than he thought. And he was human once. Well, maybe turning to a slime had changed his entire outlook. His body had reset. He took the gloves anyway.

Meanwhile, the village carried on. Construction had slowed, not because there was nothing left to build, but because the village had reached a point where it no longer needed to grow in panic. It could grow properly now. Children woke up early every morning for lessons. The Goblin Elder taught young goblins how to woodwork, tapping their knuckles when they cut wrong. The Rabbit Leader taught her apprentices about herbs and medicine, making them memorize bitter names.

The Alpha taught young wolves how to patrol in packs, correcting them with a nip to the ear.

Even some of the older slimes had taken it upon themselves to teach the newly transformed ones how to properly control their acidic bodies. ”Don’t dissolve the bench, Little One.” Watching it all happen. Tanaka realized something, and it settled in his chest like a stone and a feather at the same time. The village no longer needed him. That was a good thing.

A leader should never be the only pillar of their society. If it fell without him, he had built it wrong. The thought made him proud. And a little sad. That evening, he wandered the village alone.

He paid his respects to the goblins who still worked in the forge. One pressed a small carved charm into his hand. ”For safe travel.” He watched the rabbits water the herb gardens. The Rabbit Leader handed him mint. ”For tea. You’ll miss this.” He scratched the Alpha behind the ears just long enough to embarrass him in front of the younger wolves. The Alpha huffed but leaned into it. The little slime bounced happily behind him the whole time. Boing. Boing. Stopping to sniff every flower.

Nothing special really happened. No grand speeches. It was perfectly ordinary. Maybe that’s why he enjoyed it so much. Because ordinary meant peace. As the sun set beyond the horizon, painting everything gold, Tanaka climbed the watchtower one last time. The scent of home greeted him as he climbed higher. He looked out towards the edge of the forest. Past the trees was a road he’d never walked. ”I’m not leaving tomorrow.” The little slime looked up at him and boinged softly. ”There are still things to prepare.” ”I still have things to learn. How to talk. How to lie. How to not die.” He smiled. ”But soon, very soon.”

His gaze turned back to the village. The Crystal Tree glowed at the center of it all, steady and blue. Children played around the town square, chasing each other. The wolves changed shifts, bumping shoulders. Goblins argued loudly over whose craftsmanship was better. The rabbits laughed as they sorted through herbs. Tanaka closed his eyes. The wind was cool.

”When I return. We’ll take another step forward.”