The cavern, once a cramped fissure, now yawned wide and inviting, a testament to Bathilda and Hiro's tireless bor. It was a transformation, a metamorphosis mirroring Bathilda's own. She stood at the entrance, a dark silhouette against the pale, otherworldly light seeping from the pit below, surveying their handiwork with a sense of quiet satisfaction.
"Good job, Hiro," she said, her voice echoing slightly in the vast space. "Now we can move on to the next step. Maxing my level."
She stretched, her wings unfurling and catching the faint breeze, the leathery membranes rustling like dry leaves. Below, the pit reeked of decay. The bloated corpses of the King Tarb and his swarm of Brats y scattered, a grisly tableau of their recent battle.
The stench, a cloying mix of rotting flesh and earthy musk, hung heavy in the air. Bathilda wrinkled her nose. The carnivorous Brats, true to their nature, had consumed their own, leaving no living creature in the immediate vicinity. She hoped some other subterranean predator would soon cim the festering remains, sparing her the enduring stench.
"It's amazing how hard someone can work when threatened by a confident Batwoman," Hiro quipped, attempting to lighten the mood. He'd sensed her earlier tension, a coiled energy that radiated from her like heat.
Bathilda rolled her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips. "Don't call me that, please. Not only does it remind me of some of the cheesy horror flicks I endured during my grad days, but I'm sure there's a copyright infringement lurking somewhere in that phrase. Besides, Lady Bat sounds far more refined, don't you think?"
Hiro, ever the bewildered companion, caught the sarcasm, but the phrase "grad days" sparked his curiosity. "What are grad days?" he asked, following her as she stepped out onto the ledge overlooking the pit.
"A chapter best left closed," Bathilda replied, her voice tinged with a hint of mencholy. "A time of endless studying, cheap wine, and… regrettable encounters. This world, with its penchant for brutal efficiency, is a stark contrast to my past life. Now, let's focus on the task at hand before I succumb to the temptation of dredging up those less-than-stelr memories."
Without waiting for a response, she unched herself into the air, her powerful wings propelling her upwards, away from the stench and the grim reminder of their recent struggle. She forewent the Bart King's tunnel, her resolve firm. She needed to ascend, to escape, and to find a challenge worthy of her growing level. The custrophobia of the depths was beginning to gnaw at her.
Reaching the top of the pit, she retraced her steps, navigating the byrinthine tunnels until she arrived at the familiar forked path. Her destination was the pce of her rebirth, the site of her initial terror. She was no longer the frightened creature she had been. Now, she was ready to confront her fear, to conquer the source of her unease.
Rounding the jagged corner, Bathilda confronted the colossal being that had once instilled paralyzing dread. Now, however, the fear was tempered by a burgeoning confidence, a direct result of her hard-won evolution. Her four eyes, a testament to her metamorphic journey, registered every detail of the monstrous form before her.
The creature shimmered in the dim, phosphorescent light emanating from the cave's walls, a translucent, quivering mass of getinous substance. It was a monstrous, Godzil-sized blob, its form a testament to raw, undiluted vitality. "What the hell is that thing?" she muttered, her voice a low growl, her eyes widening as she took in the sheer scale of the creature.
She activated (Identify), her skill now honed to level 4, its expanded capabilities revealing a wealth of information. The data scrolled across her vision:
Name: None
Race: King Slime
Level: 24
HP: 650/650
Undeterred by the imposing statistics, Bathilda unleashed a barrage of (Wing Ssh+), the razor-sharp bdes of compressed air slicing through the Slime's getinous body. The impact was visible, creating deep, shimmering gashes that momentarily disrupted the creature's form. But the wounds closed almost instantly, the Slime's form reforming as if nothing had happened, the viscous material flowing back together with an unsettling fluidity.
Name: None
Race: King Slime
Level: 24
HP: 646/650
"Well, that's just unfair," she grumbled, watching as the Slime's HP steadily regenerated, the numbers ticking back up with arming speed. The creature remained passive, a silent, unmoving mass, its translucent surface reflecting the dim light like a distorted mirror.
Bathilda circled the Slime, her enhanced vision searching for a vulnerable spot, a weakness in its seemingly impenetrable defense. Her limited arsenal offered few options, and she cursed her previous reluctance to invest more skill points into offensive capabilities.
She hesitated to use (Poison Fang), the thought of biting into the creature's viscous body repulsive, a primal revulsion that warred with her need for victory. Reluctantly, she sank her fangs into the Slime's side, injecting a dose of her venom. A dark purple ooze spread through the Slime's translucent body, a stark contrast to its natural pallor. But as it moved, it diluted, fading to a pale pink before disappearing entirely, absorbed and neutralized by the Slime's regenerative properties.
"Amazing," she murmured, her voice ced with a frustrated awe, watching the wound knit itself back together, leaving no trace of her attack.
Hiro arrived, his eyes widening in astonishment, his voice echoing in the cavern. "What the hell is that!?"
"It's a King Slime," Bathilda expined, her voice sharp. "(Wing Ssh) is useless. My poison was too weak. It just dissolved."
"Maybe if we both use (Poison Fang) in different spots, we can overwhelm its healing," she suggested, her mind racing, searching for a tactical advantage.
Hiro recoiled, his face contorted in disgust. "I'm not putting my mouth on that thing!"
"Unless you want to spend eternity in this cave, you'll do it," Bathilda retorted, her voice leaving no room for argument. "We need to kill it, and this is our best shot."
With a reluctant sigh, Hiro agreed, his expression a mask of distaste. They positioned themselves on opposite sides of the Slime, ready to execute their pn. Hiro bit first, his venom mixing with Bathilda's, the combined toxins spreading more rapidly, staining the Slime a deep purple-pink. Bathilda, emboldened by the increased potency, continued to inject her venom, pushing her limits, channeling every ounce of her power into the attack.
Lost in her attack, she didn't notice the Slime's form shifting, its getinous mass flowing around her, enveloping her. Suddenly, she was trapped, submerged in the creature's viscous interior, the thick, getinous substance pressing against her from all sides. Panic fred, a primal fear of suffocation, but she forced herself to remain calm, her enhanced senses searching for a way out.
Struggling to move, she spotted a small, pulsating gem at the Slime's core. It pulsed with a faint, ethereal light, hidden from view from the outside, the source of the Slime's regenerative power.
Taking a gamble, she forced herself towards the gem, swimming through the thick, getinous substance, her wings useless in the viscous medium. Reaching it, she opened her jaws and bit down, her teeth grinding against the hard, crystalline surface, chewing on the gem with all her might. It yielded, cracking and shattering under her powerful bite, and she swallowed the remnants.
A surge of power coursed through her, notifications flooding her senses, her body tingling with newfound energy. Her skills leveled up, new abilities unlocked, her senses heightened. The Slime's body dissolved around her, the getinous mass dissipating into nothingness, leaving her floating in the air, her wings spread wide.
"Why were my st two opponents Kings?" she mused, a smirk spreading across her face, her eyes gleaming with newfound power. "Am I destined to be a Queen? Queen Bathilda… I like the sound of that." The cave, once a prison, now felt like a stage, and she, its rising star.
