Wet, flopping splashes echoed through the stone walls faintly. The outline layers of those walls vibrated as if they were responding to the rhythmic sounds.

  Cold mists exhaled out from most of the group even though the room itself was lukewarm at best. Some of their hands shivering from the imaginative cold.

  The only light illuminating their peripheral views was from Wattyson’s staff, shining like an overlit lantern. Of course, the pristine wall and worn floors were all they could see—not whatever making those noises.

  Sparks sprinkled out of Xylia’s wands as she cast a fireball. The ball of blinding flame shone out as it raced down the hall. It illuminated nothing of note.

  Arlene flicked her wrist, chanting out her own Light magic. Orb of blinding light illuminated the entire hall. There wasn’t anything that made those sounds, yet it still continued.

  Her eyes squinted—darted around for anything. Splashing echo rang throughout, making it impossible to pinpoint.

  “There!” She unsheathed her sword, and settled into a defensive stance.

  “Where?!” Xylia shouted as she stepped back. Her head swayed all over, moving the wands with.

  The short mage felt a poke to her cheek before her face wrestled in one direction. “There!” Rinea called out sporadically.

  A vague figure of sorts—resembling a blob bounced up and down toward them, and there were numerous behind. They were hidden with transparent camouflage, only found out due to their outlines reminiscing that of a hard stroke.

  The blobs got closer and closer. Which each bounce, the wall shook with it. Lines etched into the wall were becoming more mangled, more wave-y.

  Arlene raised one hand up, lighting it up as it then spread to all four of the group. The spell gave them clarity. All became less prone to nausea from the disoriented wall.

  Rinea took out her two short swords with Naciv doing the same with his aiming sword. Wattyson was standing still, looking over to the barely visible blobs.

  None of them moved. Xylia didn’t fire off another spell. Their collective minds told them those were slimes. However, their own theory of the dungeon evolving made them hesitate. If they were slimes, they wouldn’t know what properties they had.

  Eventually, those blobs got within range of Wattyson’s light. Their appearances became clear—light blue with a small pulsing red orb inside for all of them; Standard Slime. They all stopped just past Wattyson’s light.

  Lines of them bounced in rhythm; once forward and two backward. Their cores shifted upward, dimming in light. It was like they were wild animals stumbling upon something curious. For now, they weren’t attacking.

  Arlene lowered her sword just slightly causing the slimes to move a pace back. Their entire translucent skins spiked up like they were startled.

  She swayed her sword around. Those dimmed cores followed. With each motion, the slimes spiked less and less, becoming more used to her movement.

  Nothing was happening, but something needed to happen. Arlene couldn’t just lead the group through the swath of slimes. She knew asking the horned girl wouldn’t yield much, but there was no other option.

  “Rinea. When you last dived, were the slimes behaving like these?”

  Rinea shook her head, her voice hung low. “No. Last time, they just charged at us—you know; like monsters would.”

  “Is this part of the mutation?”

  Rinea only offered: “I don’t know.”

  Xylia spoke up. “It probably isn’t.” All eyes turned to her. “When a full mutation happens then yes, it affects the monsters too, but we know that isn’t the case.”

  Her wands still pointed to the slimes. “We already confirmed this dungeon never made it past its infancy phase, and earlier down the stairs we concluded it is undergoing a mutation—albeit the early stage.”

  She clicked her tongue as if to emphasize. “That means it’s not a full mutation yet, and whatever is affecting the slimes isn’t related to dungeon core.”

  A wave of wet splashes echoed through the hall as their eyes turned to the slimes spiking up. Their cores flung around inside erratically as they all bounced in place—starting from the far rear.

  The light pulsed intensively, glowing more and more like they were agitated by something. Then something finally happened.

  The slimes rammed into one another, merging together. More and more followed as each blobs grew bigger and bigger.

  Naciv lunged forward. “Xylia!” He roared, taking position right next to her. “Fire now!”

  Swirls of ashen winds gathered around Xylia’s wands. “I’m already ahead of you!” Her hand jerked back as her wands flung upward—recoiling from firing off another fireball.

  The rest stood at the ready as an orb of flame hurled toward the masses of blobs. Upon closing in, sparkles flickered as ignitions clicked on contact—followed by an explosive roar. Small trinkets of cores flew out like shrapnel in all directions. Some penetrated through the other slimes’ cores—killing them while the rest toward the group.

  Without hesitation, Xylia raised her wands simmering in gold. An arch of light shimmered in front like a bubble—halting the cores just enough for it to slow and fall.

  Arlene rushed forward—her sword dragging off the ground. Following her were Naciv and Rinea—together with Arlene they formed an arrowhead.

  Moving with haste, the three struck the fractured slimes—preventing them to mash together. The trio charged through the middle for a destination in mind; to stop whatever was forming at the back.

  However, doing so left the rear opened. Slimes that couldn’t mash with other started to shift forward. Whatever remained of their translucent masses from the explosion, they rolled toward Xylia. Those that made contact merge forming into a rough boulder—tumbling down.

  All lost their momentum crossing through the barrier. Xylia took this chance to wave her wands around—to chant any offensive spells.

  As if spurred by the sight, the slimes redoubled their efforts. They were still living beings, not boulders. Those at the back rammed into the front—pushing them. They spun fast almost to the point of grinding the floor itself.

  Blue liquids splurted out all over as the front slimes lunged. In small pebbles, they threatened to cover Xylia’s view in a hail of slimy pellets.

  Their adversary couldn’t get her offensive spells out. Caught off guard from the blast, she had to change her chant mid-cast to a defensive one. It cost her crucial time. Being sure that time wasn’t on her side, she stomped her foot and turned around—using her back to soak the damage.

  She needn’t have. Her eyes sparkled as her gaze landed on Wattyson already pointing a staff at her. She didn’t see his expression, only the staff and the flame-like beams spiralling out in a vortex. Reminded of such fine control of magic like this affirmed her thinking that the School of Magic had nothing to teach her. The sight made her forget there was a battle going on.

  The beams flew out, waving around the non-existent centre of gravity. Nearing Xylia, it split again like branches, and those branches divided too.

  Behind her, wet splashes rang loud in her ears. The few liquids that landed on her simmered like cooking oil. Her body tensed from the hot contact, but being lost in marvelling magic—she didn’t register any of them.

  The vibration from the beams faded. “Eyes’ forward, Xelee.” Wattyson took a few steps to stand beside her.

  “It’s… It’s Xylia.” Her voice a mix of awe and returning focus to the battle at hand. She swirled her wands around—chanting off offensive spells to support the arrowhead.

  Wattyson stood to deter any slime remnants threatening the rear. For any invaders to their spaces would be met with a hard swipe of his staff or whatever magic he unleashed.

  The humidity from Wattyson’s beam finally reached the arrowhead, striking down the malformed slimes like they were seeking them. The contact blasted off tiny parts of their skins, but once inside caused their entire mass to expand flatly—forcibly melting them.

  The Arrowhead’s leader let out a smug chuckle as she charged through. Her sword cleaved through as her every firm step placed her closer and closer to the slime rear. She had moved so far ahead; her own orb of light didn’t catch up to illuminate the floor further.

  Rinea drifted with Arlene. Her two shortswords stabbed at the slimes’ cores with powerful thrust. Each time she did so, a loud clink rang throughout the hall. Such a body style fit her well; lean body efficiency, manoeuvring like an assassin. No wonder she kept being evasive.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  As for Naciv, earlier before the beam his fighting was on par with an A rank adventurer. Instead of fighting like Arlene who slashed away with ease and moved like dancing, and Rinea with her quick footwork and precise strength, he leveraged his entire body. Arms flailing and bracing to fend off any attack while legs kicked up any disorientated slimes for a strike. There wasn’t any technique—it was learned style from years as an adventurer. Even against slimes, he was ruthless. Was it thanks to his years as an adventurer, or something else attributed to his recklessness?

  The beams zoomed past him, startled him. His blood recoiled just from close proximity. Part of him knew they weren’t for him, but again such a display reminded the old bloods why he should tread carefully.

  The once ruthless punch, kick and slash became sluggish. The slimes died effortlessly before, but now requiring two slashes from him. Strength was failing like it was escaping his mortal coil. The body shivered as the old bloods gnashed from the inside.

  Sweats dripped from the instinctual reaction. It wasn’t him, but the foreign elements that made up him right now—the fear of Anathema. Only a few moments after the beam’s dissipation was he able to gather himself.

  His momentary lapse of strength was not missed. Rinea witnessed it with a small grin before returning to killing.

  Magic bolts zipped past the arrowhead as they made their way through. There weren’t any slimes left. Remains of leftover translucent liquid oozed all over the unidentifiable claw marks continued from the stairways onward.

  They couldn’t take this moment to assess the area. Bubbling bursting in the dark. Something was gooping like boiling water—steaming out like cold air. Glittering in the dark came small slimy pellets, shot out in a cone-like arc.

  Loud stomp crushed the stone beneath as Arlene shouted out a chant; the same defensive bubble Xylia made, but much more potent. The light shimmered into full solid wall. It was barely transparent in its holy radiance.

  Despite its holiness, the pellets hit in a loud bang. Some slipped through, but fell harmlessly after. A whistling fire ball surged past the arrowhead, past the barrier and into the dark. Its trail of flame was the only light source into the unknown.

  Hard stroke outlines shaped the slimes with four legs. Translucent ooze still dominated body, but parts of where limbs and head should be, were smooth solid like polished glass. The core pulsed dimly in its chest.

  The Orb of Light finally caught up and revealed it in full. Slimes had meshed together to mimic a creature in shape of a lion. It had four legs, but the two forelimbs had claws made for holding.

  Its slimy mane’s spiked out like tentacles aiming at the group. Small pebbles of solid slimes were loading up as though they were repeating crossbow. The tentacles’ ends were shaped like a barrel.

  It had no face, just a forgery of what the animal should be. After all, this slime now stood taller than most of them. Trying to mimic an actual lion, its head raised with membrane vibrating all over; mimicking a silent roar.

  The tentacles followed, firing off homing pellets like they were mortar in an enclosed space. The wet ripples from the shots were pathetic, but the pellets itself ricocheted off the ceiling—bouncing with increased speed before they settled and began homing with a sonic boom.

  “MAGIC MISSILES!” Xylia commanded her wands, letting out a swarm of purple bolts to retaliate. Both projectiles crashed into one another, splattering the pellets in purple mists.

  Emerging from the mist, the lion-slime lunged and swung its massive forelimb. Such a massive creature didn’t make a sound. Arlene sidestepped easily as she studied the monster. It didn’t make a sound because it didn’t walk—it dragged its slimy ooze through the floor.

  Naciv ducked with terrifying speed like he saw it coming through the mist. However, Rinea didn’t dodge in time. The massive forelimb caught her, slamming her into the wall with a loud crack. She gritted her teeth, swinging her only free arm against the limb to free herself. With each slash, it only cut away part of the mass before reformed immediately.

  The lion-slime transformed its tentacles into spears, thrusting at the others frantically. Arlene chanted and charged in, using the broadside of her sword to block every thrust in lightning speed. Her entire body glowed in blue.

  Hails of magic missiles zoomed through the hall, countering the tentacles’ thrusts. Naciv saw the opportunity and crawled to the incapacitated member—who was still trying to hack away the forelimb in futility.

  “Do something!” Rinea shouted in a gruff. The slash slowed with every swings. Her eyes kept blinking like she was losing consciousness.

  Naciv joined trying to hack away the forelimb. His swing went deeper, but not completely through. “Damn it!” He kept trying.

  He glanced back to Wattyson, and saw him preoccupied with boosting Xylia’s prowess. At least it seemed like it from him resting a hand on her shoulder, and the magic circle beneath the short mage.

  Thinking Wattyson was too occupied to notice, and Rinea was losing conscious to look at him. He slashed again, but hitting with his hand as well—entombed himself in the slime. He muttered a chant to himself, his eyes briefly formed into crimson diamonds. Red mists released from his stuck hand, streaking out into the mass like they were blood.

  His hand jerked downward with the forelimb falling over, dragging him with its weight. Rinea fell to the ground after, gasping for air. The lion-slime discarded that limb and reformed a new one.

  “Help me get my hand out once you’re done, will you?” He said erratically, his entire body shivered while he tried to hide his temporary growing fang from Rinea, and from Anathema.

  In the heart of the battle, Arlene paced herself as she fought the lion-slime into a stalemate. Each thrust was countered, each swing side-stepped, each pellet exploded by Xylia’s magic missile. Her sight never left the lion-slime’s core. She could end it right now with a divine slash, but she was only human. Her mana was boundless, but it didn’t mean she could use it freely—she knew this.

  Each cast of magic strained her stamina. She had plenty from her training and from the prophecy’s quest, but it still limited her. Every parry cost her it, and this was still Floor Twenty.

  She chose to fight like this, pacing herself with the enemy and letting other dictate the battle unless necessary. Her grin settled and grew wider. It wasn’t everyday she could use her strength as an excuse to enjoy herself as the Chosen One—especially against a monster she hadn’t faced before.

  “Naciv! Rinea!” She glanced briefly amidst dodging. “I’ll keep it distracted! You guys aim for its core!”

  The horned girl dashed immediately after recovery. She rolled through the lion-slime’s thrash and claws. The core was in sight, in the centre mass of the lion-slime, pulsing in rhythm of all its attacks.

  She dived in, her two swords aiming to cut through the translucent membrane, to pierce the core. They made a loud clang—the slime’s skin hardened into solid blue. Every other stab resulted in the skin hardening like they were responding to trauma.

  Naciv rushed to her right, his entire body braced to block the lion-slime’s tail in a huge blocky shape like a hammer. He bashed against the coming strike, letting out a loud groan as it knocked him and Rinea back.

  “Strike harder!” Naciv gritted as he held against the tail’s pushing weight. His feet dragged with each passing moment.

  Rinea stood up from the knock and tried again, but the slime continued to assault them—now from below. Streaks of long elongated needles reached out to poke their vital points. Clicking her tongue annoyingly, she had to divert her strikes to fending off those pokes.

  “Sage,” Xylia turned to Wattyson, her starry eyes shining, “Boost my power! I’m going to use my best spell!” Her body vibrated like magnet. Her face plead with him. “Also! I need to borrow your staff!”

  Wattyson didn’t reply, but handed the staff to her. While holding the wands in place for her, his resting hand gripped on her shoulder tighter and tighter. It started to emit a bright violet glow. His ring finger lifted up, pointing to the staff.

  He wasn’t boosting Xylia’s power since he never knew how. He had been amplifying her already casted spell by just shooting them with force—propelling it out faster. The magic circle earlier was just a theatrics pretend. The grip was the same.

  Pale blue lightened up at the tip of the staff. Then it became denser and heavier, much deeper in tone. Dark navy blue settled in a sphere at the tip. It grew larger and larger with every passing seconds.

  The short gremlin giggled to herself. While charging, she swayed the staff around as if she was trying to lock on a target to enjoy herself. The idea of yelling out to warn others didn’t occur to her mind. Surprisingly, Wattyson didn’t do it either.

  At the stalemate battle, Arlene parried and danced through every strikes. The lion-slime didn’t bring anything new to the table—just tentacles’ thrusts, slime pellets and occasional swipe from its forelimbs and jaw. Looking at the other two adventurers struggling and her own blue glow spell boosting her speed diminishing, she thought perhaps soon was the time for her to end the fight.

  Amidst one of her dodge, her eyes widened at the blinding glow from the rear, swirling in a circle. It wasn’t magic missile. Instinctively, she immediately danced to the side, and bring the lion-slime’s attention with her.

  The lion-slime’s shifted itself to Arlene’s new position, pressing its tail against Naciv in its movement. It slammed Naciv and Rinea back into the wall and to the floor.

  The short gremlin’s eyes sparked at the sight, and straightened the staff. “MOONBEAM!” She shouted with an energy of a child doing play-pretend.

  The energy collapsed onto itself before an unknown benefactor’s mana spilled into it, bursting it out violently. The shock recoiled Xylia, but Wattyson pushed down on her shoulder and helped her maintain stability.

  The beam zoomed through the floor, lighting everything up in its moonlight’s glow in a blinding glare. The sound of metal vaporizing echoed and rang in everyone’s ears. The very heat itself glazed onto the floor and wall, causing them to sweat.

  Arlene lunged down and pointed to Rinea and Xylia—motioning them to stay down while also casting heat resistance over them and herself.

  The beam travelled in a straight line. Nearing the lion’s slime, it immediately expanded out in a cone, nearly devouring the entire monster in its scorching embrace.

  The vaporizing heat dissipated as the beam vanished. The lion-slime’s entire mass was gone, only few remnants and its core falling to the ground in a loud thud. It was larger the size of a head. Looking at it through the translucent skin earlier hid its true size.

  Seeing the remnants slowly oozed their way back to the core, Rinea crawled on the hot floor, her body burned the closer she got. Upon arriving, she lifted her now lit up blade from the heat and slammed it down—piercing the core.

  The core’s pulsing glow dimmed even more and eventually died out. The remnants stopped oozing in its track, and vaporized into dust of mana into the air.

  She immediately rolled back to Naciv and sat against the lukewarm wall. Her hands tapping all over her body as if to put out the fire.

  “Good job.” Naciv let out as he lay still on the only cold ground right now.

  “Shut up,” she said lightly and placed her one blade that was still lit up on his torso, “Hold on to this.”

  The heat burned. Naciv quickly jumped up and kicked the sword away after. His entire face paled from that burn. “Don’t do that!” His voice didn’t suggest any teasing—it was genuine. Much as he expcted, Rinea only smirked in return.

  In the rear, Xylia hopped. “Did you see that, Sage? My best spell so far!” She shoved the staff back to Wattyson and took back her wands. “Let us march to our companions!” The gremlin walked while swinging her arms wide.

  Wattyson didn’t reply. He only followed with her while clicking his staff onto the ground.

  On the other side, Arlene raised her arms wide out and chanted out a freezing spell—lowering the scorched part in its chill, back to its room temperature. Looking at the two bickering, she sighed. Rinea did a good job indeed, but now after combat… she would probably be frustratingly evasive again.

  For now, Floor twenty was taken care of. If the whole floors after were like this, then they were truly in a battle of attrition. Her bags held potions enough for a normal dungeon dive, but this was anything but normal. Floor's wall and floor melted, but slowly reforming back into its respective look; the former being worn while the latter being pristine.

  “Alright,” she clapped her hands to get the two bickering’s attention. “Let us find a spot to rest.”