Emily and George walked quickly through the dirty, muddy ground. Emily had a look of disgust on her face.
Since the only way out was forward, Emily and George had no other choice. They either had to keep moving forward without stopping, or they would get stuck here and die of starvation.
"This place looks very dirty."
Emily’s eyes narrowed as she looked around; even though they had been walking for a long time, they were still moving between muddy, dirty, and crumbling walls.
With each step she took, the mud became thicker, and it became increasingly difficult to walk.
"Despite all this walking, we still haven’t found a way out," Emily said with a hint of frustration. While walking on the muddy ground, her eyes turned to George. Although George felt helpless, he was confident as a man.
"We have no other options right now, Emily."
"I wish I had even 1% of your comfort..." Emily sighed. George smirked, then teased Emily. "Maybe you should stop acting like a princess and remember that we’re peasants. We don’t have much luxury in this cursed place anyway."
Emily frowned. "Am I a princess? Don’t make me laugh. I’m the best hunter in your search party. Those princesses in the palaces probably don’t even know how to hold a sword."
"Graahahah!" George laughed foolishly as he ruffled her hair, then his smile faded. Emily rolled her eyes and pulled his hand away from her hair.
After a moment of silence, George suddenly stopped, noticing something strange after half an hour of walking. "Hasn’t it gotten a bit too muddy here, Emily?"
George tried to pull his foot back, but when that didn’t work, he furrowed his brow. He examined the mud. Emily’s eyes widened as she noticed the strange color of the mud on the ground.
"Why does this mud have a blue tone?"
"What?" George examined the mud with curiosity; it did indeed have a blue hue. There was something odd about it. The entire ground was flat. So how could there be so much mud?
George bent down and began to pull at the mud. As he struggled to pull his hand free, he found that he couldn’t do it this time either. With some effort, when he finally freed his hand, his eyes widened in confusion.
"George, I think you should look behind you."
When George heard Emily’s tense voice, he turned around in surprise.
"That’s a Slime..."
Instead of the small, round, innocent, and harmless creature everyone knew as a Slime, this one was deformed. Inside the Slime, visible to the naked eye, were human bones.
Seaweed was wrapped around it, making it look dirty and muddy. The most threatening part were the eyes that it possessed. They were severed human eyes. The Slime had placed the eyes it had taken from a victim into its eye sockets.
"I want to be human."
The voice of a small girl echoed around them. This was the Slime’s voice. Although Emily didn’t understand how the Slime could speak, she had no time to think about it now.
The eye sockets within the Slime wandered grotesquely over Emily. "You look beautiful—so beautiful. I want you, I want to be you... Beautiful and so beautiful..."
Emily’s hair stood on end upon hearing the Slime call out to her; her back was drenched in sweat. Then her eyes turned to the Slime, showing her anger. "You disgusting monster, stay away from me."
The Slime seemed indifferent to Emily’s words. With an appearance reminiscent of a creature from a horror film, it suddenly expanded and lunged toward Emily.
"Stay away from my sister!" George shouted sharply, punching the Slime’s disgusting, slimy body before it could reach Emily.
"Uff!" Emily fell to the ground in relief, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her eyes still held admiration for what had just happened.
"What just happened??" George said blankly, staring at the spot where the Slime had been. His eyes displayed shock, horror, and admiration.
Emily just shook her head and, after resting her lungs, turned her eyes to George. The sudden turn of events had put her in a strange situation.
"This is the power of a God..." George said in awe. His eyes wandered to the spot where the Slime had pierced his hand. Disappointment in himself briefly clouded his eyes. "I really am so weak. I can’t even protect you."
George chuckled at this situation. "I couldn’t even defeat a Slime. Seriously."
"Idiot," Emily said in a stern voice. She then got up from the ground, looked at George’s severed hand, and tore a piece of fabric from her pants to wrap around his bloody hand. She gazed into George’s eyes, which were filled with disappointment. "Are you really comparing yourself to a God? Seriously?"
Hearing Emily’s mocking tone, George shook his head, denying it. As Emily wrapped the cloth around George’s hand, her eyes sparkled with sarcasm. "Then why are you acting all macho? We didn’t know what would happen to us."
"Stop pitying yourself for nothing," Emily said firmly after tying the cloth and looked sternly at George. Then she walked past him.
For a moment, George froze, then he laughed and followed Emily. "Wait for me, Princess! Don’t rush!"
As George and Emily left, somewhere else, more precisely in a throne room, a young man was sitting. His messy red hair was at shoulder length. His eyes shone with a purple hue that defined his immortal nature.
His skin was incredibly pale, almost unbelievable for an ordinary human. It looked like cracked glass, with mana seeping through the cracks. The most intriguing thing was the enormous skeletal dragon that sprawled at his feet.
This young man was Mordred, the bastard of Camelot, of King Arthur’s blood. Known as the Traitor of Albion, he was the prophesied killer of King Arthur, a flawed being born from incest, a traitor, and, with his greatest title, King of the Dead.
He was one of the legendary Knights of the Round Table, immortal in exchange for greater power, fulfilling his destiny to kill his father, and he was also a symbol of treachery and rebellion.
Confirming these grand titles, Mordred looked like someone very angry and arrogant. His haughty eyes drifted toward the Dragon sleeping at his feet.
"Those people are stronger than I expected, especially that old fart." Despite the mockery spilling from Mordred’s lips, there was a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "It’s interesting that even in this age, such a man arises from the Druids. Perhaps I should make him one of my new subordinates?"
The Dragon merely stared at Mordred with foolish eyes. Mordred sighed; even if the Dragon didn’t understand much, it was still good for his loneliness.
"That little girl is dead, what a pity. I had high hopes for her." Mordred flicked his tongue. His eyes rolled mockingly. "You know? The little girl was abandoned here by her mother, she was almost dying. Her body was filled with the sperm of dozens of men."
For a moment, Mordred’s eyes sparkled with disgust. "When she was about to die, I turned her into a Slime. Unfortunately, her mind was so broken that she couldn’t remember anyone except her mother."
Then, Mordred sighed again, his eyes momentarily clouded with sadness. "Some people shouldn’t be mothers. All they do is ruin the lives of innocent little ones..."
Mordred’s eyes returned to their former tight and arrogant gaze. He then examined his skin. His eyes were filled with disgust and revulsion like never before. "This cursed forest is useless now. I can’t renew myself any longer."
As Mordred’s mana surged with anger, the Dragon looked at him sadly and whimpered like a dog. A thin smile crept onto Mordred’s lips. "Don’t worry; it won’t last long. I will eventually be myself again."
As a terrible smile slowly settled on Mordred’s lips, he smiled even more when he sensed another being’s aura.
"It seems we have another guest. A strong one, too."
Even though the Dragon didn’t understand what Mordred was saying, it was happy that its master was pleased, wagging its tail.
A deep, evil, devilish little chuckle echoed through the throne room, and Mordred’s eyes flashed with excitement.
Then, with Mordred’s will, all the torches in the throne room suddenly extinguished, shrouding the throne room in darkness...