Monster Breeder

147. The Misty Grove, Part 2 (Jonathan Saffron)

Not surprisingly, being able to see them coming trivializes the first-tier Slimes.

Walking with Gale in the Misty Grove is wonderous. It really is a lovely place. A light pattering of droplets continuously falls from the canopy as sunrays filter in through gaps in the branches, transforming the landscape into a rainbow world. Endless bands of color play against the trunks, grass, and mushrooms in coruscating patterns.

The young Rainbird floats through the air while dancing through glorious haloes of vivid illumination. Rosie and Monal marvel at their Mistress’s antics, but Brenda and I never drop our guard. That said, it’s not hard to spot the five-gallon droplets rolling towards us.

A small blue Slime reaches jumping range, halts, and quivers in place for a few short moments before launching itself at us. The fluid monster flattens itself against the ground and uses the elastic rebound of its membrane to generate force. It’s fascinating to watch, but we slap it down with contemptuous ease. Even if it hit us, it couldn’t penetrate our Stone Ooze Skin, and we’d melt it with our Green Slime Acid.

The Slime splatters against the ground like a burst water balloon full of runny gelatin and Olindia plucks its core from the mess.

“Take the next one, Chrissy,” Flou advises. “Throw me, and I’ll home in on the target. Better that you get used to this while the enemies are easy.”

“Fine, fine, I might as well… fuck! Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck it’s coming at me!”

Our angora Playmate bunny isn’t much of a fighter by instinct. Chris panics the first time she has to deal with one of the Slimes herself and nearly forgets to throw the blood-crystal dagger Flou made for her. Thankfully, they’re not a threat. With the element of surprise removed, dodging the basic monsters is trivial since they can’t alter their trajectory mid-flight.

Chris sidesteps the first time a Slime lunges for her, and the second, and by the third, she’s finally worked up the courage to toss Flou in the monster’s general direction. Our Red Swarm Slime, by contrast, is a miracle worker to salvage that throw and slice through the target’s soft jelly membrane. The rudimentary monster spills its guts, and that’s another Core for the pile.

““These aren’t going to help you evolve, though, right, Flou?”” I ask the Fuzzy Slime, still speaking in our doubled voice.

“No. But Alex wants as many of them as we can gather for after the war. They might save the lives of those mortally wounded.”

““Or we could use them to regenerate our cores if we’re damaged,”” Brenda says through me in our merged state.

“That, too,” Flou agrees. “Though it seems they can’t contribute to our evolutions.”

“Pretty sure I can eat one to get back another use of my healing mojo,” Olindia comments from Chris’s jellyfish tutu.

“That’s right! Alex gave Gale a very important job! Every magic rock thingy we get is another friend we can make after the big fight tomorrow,” the Rainbird says, Rosie and Monal nodding along with their wholehearted affirmation. Then the two Harpies turn as one to rip asunder a Slime that dared fling itself at their Mistress.

I have to keep that in mind. This is a critical mission. I’m sorry, Jonathan. You wanted to fight the Sand Worm, I know, but it just didn’t work out today. These things happen. Thanks, Brenda. It’s a bit disheartening knowing the others have a tough fight ahead of them in the caves underground while we’re up here popping overgrown grapes, that’s all.

We backhand another Slime slinging itself our way without blinking. The little buggers are everywhere.

“How can there be so many Slimes in the Misty Grove?” Chris wonders aloud. “Where do they come from?”

“Obviously, we divide like amoebas after we’ve eaten enough,” Olindia says. “Didn’t they teach you anything in the Warren?”

Chris huffs at the dressing down from her dress.

“Umm, is that actually true, though?” Flou asks. “My sub-self repeater crystals are all me. I can’t imagine one of them splitting off to do its own thing.”

I’ve never felt the instinct to reproduce while in my Slime, Ooze, or Symbiont forms.

“Hmph. Well, just because I’ve never done it myself doesn’t mean that isn’t where they come from. I mean, like, literally what else could it even be?”

““Nothing but baseless assumptions,”” we say. ““Did anyone bother to ask Gabby? She has the Book of Monsters.””

Chris shrugs, “I was just curious. Anything to keep my mind off—gaaahhh!” The bunny girl falls on her butt as she ducks under another Slime attack. A second aims for her while she’s down, but Olindia’s tentacles fend off the unwanted assault. “If I never see another Slime again… No offense, you two.”

“None taken,” Flou replies.

“You’re lucky you’re fuckable,” Olindia quips. “Being delicious doesn’t hurt, either.”

The angora Playmate bunny shrugs again, “Not the first time someone said that about my pussy but hearing it from a vaginal freeloader is new.”

“Are these eatable?” Gale asks, apropos of nothing while studying a mushroom the size of her head. It has rows and rows of shaggy frills under the red and white spotted cap.

I step between her and the strange fungi, ““That’s a Gabby question,”” I say in our strange Symbiont double-voice. We don’t have to eat while merged but, I wonder, if it were a bad shroom, whether we’d get indigestion? Regardless, better not risk food poisoning.

The Rainbird pouts but doesn’t argue.

“Is it just me, or does it seem like the mushrooms are making a trail?” Chris brings our attention to an arrangement of huge specimens five times larger than normal, which, while their smaller cousins are ever-present in the Misty Grove, these larger fungi form a distinct line heading off in a random direction. Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

“Monster trail!” Gale flaps with excitement, singing, “Mushroom monster for Alex! She’ll be so proud~”

“Maybe,” Flou allows. “But do we follow?”

Chris and Gale look to us, Rosie and Monal peering over their Mistress’s shoulders at me, and I’ll back your decision, making me the de facto leader of the group. “We came here to gather resources,” I begin, “And part of that is catching monsters for Alex to gain marks from. Let’s track whatever it is, and we’ll retreat if it looks like something we can’t handle.”

“I like this plan,” Olindia comments with a lazy smirk in her voice, “It’s low commitment.”

Another three or four basic Slimes throw themselves at us while we chat. We’re racking up a decent haul of Cores, so what’s the harm in checking on something interesting?

All eight of us proceed along the mushroom trail in formation with Chris in the center of our marching order. This wouldn’t be possible without Gale constantly clearing the mist. It’s not like the tracks are super obvious. The fungi aren’t even a consistent species: there’s a mushroom the size of a cat with bloody beads on its cap, a powderpuff as big as a stool, and a bookcase’s worth of woody shelf fungus. They are certainly enchanting in their diversity.

We’re only sure we’re headed in the right direction because all we see are smaller button mushrooms starting a few feet off the path. The sun’s light grows gradually dimmer as we wander deeper into the grove. Now there are fewer sunbeams and smaller rainbows, giving the damp, dripping forest a less whimsical, more mystical appearance.

“A light?” Gale raises her voice, and the rest of us see what she means a second later. The illumination of a faint, neon-blue glow penetrates the darkest patch of the wood ahead.

“It’s the end of the trail,” Chris states with a certainty that I suppose is not unfounded.

We step forward on our stony legs to ensure we’re taking the most risk at the tip of the spear as our group approaches. The glow brightens with every step, our eyes adjusting to the dim, and it no longer seems so dark. Then the light’s source rolls into our line of sight.

It’s a Large Slime, fifteen gallons of semi-translucent blue fluid contained by a thick membrane with a thumb-sized core in its center. Not only that but there’s also a separate glowing blue sphere in the monster’s gut. A treasure, perhaps? I’ve never heard of such a thing.

“Finally, a second-tier Slime to harvest,” Flou says, sounding eager. This is the prey we must hunt for our Slime allies to evolve.

At the sound of her voice, the Large Slime quivers and produces several pseudopods before charging our way!

Gale starts the battle by peppering our opponent with a barrage of raindrops that hit hard as hail. Still, the Large Slime blocks the majority targeting its Core with a pseudopod that dissolves under the assault. Some rain bullets puncture holes in the main body that quickly reseal themselves. Her primary weapon isn’t super effective against an amorphous blob.

Slime tentacles retaliate against the Rainbird, but her ladies-in-waiting are at her side fluttering their wings and flashing their blood-crystal-coated talons at the enemy. They make short work of the invaders while Gale focuses on inflicting maximal damage.

Chris, meanwhile, strafes the Large Slime while throwing blood crystal daggers. The wide gashes they inflict on the opponent’s membrane is impressive, but her ammo is limited. Flou makes the blades from her body mass, slowly regenerating herself to supply them. Olindia’s tentacles mostly work defense against the enemy Large Slime’s probing attacks.

The Large Pink Jellyfish Slime’s color and form mostly provide utility rather than raw offense so, while she could go toe-to-toe with the Large Slime by herself, she can’t easily overwhelm the enemy and protect a vulnerable Playmate at the same time.

That leaves us to charge down the center and plow into the Large Slime like a Minotaur diving into a snow drift. To us, the enemy’s corrosive slime is no different than water. My acid is a high step above our opponent’s weaponry, and my Stone Ooze nature is far tougher than this delicate membrane. It’s a simple matter of reaching out our hand and plucking the Core from its fluid bulk.

With its heart removed, the Large Slime dissolves like seafoam on the beach. We watch as the blue liquids spilled forth from its interior evaporates quickly even in these humid conditions. In seconds, the glowing sphere that drew us here is released from inside the monster’s stomach to levitate free.

The floating orb is opaque and cracked, but the latter detail begins to reverse before our eyes. A spiderweb of fissures retracts to their points of origin before fading to nothing. The opacity lessens by degrees until the sphere becomes as transparent as a soap bubble. Inside, a tiny figure stirs, uncurling from the fetal position, and the bubble pops.

Dragonfly wings buzz to life, the small person they’re attached to dipping in the air no more than a few centimeters before stabilizing in flight. She’s a perfect porcelain doll of a girl at exactly eleven and a half inches tall, a 1/6^th scale woman, the perpetual blue glow of bioluminescence visible beneath her lustrous skin, a shock of blond hair in a pixie cut, wearing a dress cut from the petals of a morning glory that leaves nothing to the imagination with her ass hanging in the wind. Her hips are wider than her shoulders with thick, plump thighs, her buttocks round as a pair of grapes, her breasts little cherries beneath the soft petals cupping them, her figure drawing every gaze in our group.

A Fairy!

The Smallfolk girl hesitantly unfolds her arms from about her head as if unable to believe she’s escaped her certain doom. Looking around, her gleaming eyes land on us, taking in our appearance from head to toe, Stone Skin, Green Slime flesh beneath, and your handsome musculature. She gasps, expression brightening as she beams at us, “Thank you for rescuing me, oh brave Hero in green! Finally, the prophesied one has come at last!”

Uhhh…