Vel stared at the basement with mounting horror. Slimes—dozens of them—oozed everywhere. Green, blue, and even a few oddly translucent ones squirmed across the stone floor, clung to wooden beams, and stretched between crates of merchandise. One particularly large specimen had engulfed what appeared to be an expensive vase, distorting its silhouette through its gelatinous body.
"Ugh." Vel's face twisted in disgust as he took in the basement full of his least favorite creatures.
The gooey masses wobbled as they moved, defying physics in ways that made his skin crawl. Some had fused multiple items together—fine silverware melded with silk cloth bundles—while others simply rolled aimlessly, leaving behind slick trails.
"Please be careful with the goods," came a nervous voice from behind them. Merchant Belwin stood at the top of the stairs, peering anxiously into his compromised storage room. "Those are imported silks from the Heartian Union and glassware that cost me a month's earnings."
Vel's jaw tightened. The contract said nothing about preserving merchandise—just eliminating slimes. He watched one blob stretch itself impossibly thin to reach a higher shelf, adding yet another expensive item to its collection.
Celia surveyed the disaster with growing skepticism. "This definitely should pay more than five silvers if you want us to take care of the slimes while keeping everything intact." She turned to face the merchant with hands on her hips. "This is work for real adventurers."
"What?" Belwin's face contorted with indignation. "Then I must have to pay extra fees for the Guild's tax... and..." He descended a few steps, taking in the scene with obvious dismay. "They weren't this many when I submitted the request."
Vel noticed the merchant was right—the slimes were multiplying before their very eyes. One larger specimen appeared to be dividing, separating into two distinct entities with a sickening squelching sound.
"They're reproducing," Vel said, disgust evident in his voice. "We need to eliminate them quickly before the situation gets worse."
Vel calculated the odds of conventional slime extermination—chopping, burning, or freezing—and grimaced at the likely collateral damage. Direct magic would risk the merchant's precious goods, and physical combat would just splatter slime residue everywhere, potentially damaging more merchandise.
"There has to be a systematic approach," he muttered, watching a slime absorb a small decorative figurine. Vel studied the basement layout—stone walls, wooden support beams, that drain in the corner...
Then it clicked.
"I'll flood the basement," Vel announced suddenly.
Celia whipped around to stare at him. "What?! You're going to add water damage to this mess?"
"Everything here would be ruined!" Belwin gasped, clutching his chest.
Vel shook his head. "Not necessarily. Are there any goods down here that would be damaged by water?" He asked the merchant directly.
Belwin hesitated, surveying his inventory with a critical eye. "No, not really. Only those spices and salt." He pointed to several burlap sacks stacked in the corner. "But they're not important compared to the silks and glassware."
"Hm. Perfect." Vel smiled, his plan crystallizing. "I'll flood the basement with water. Celia, you'll use your lightning sword art—but target the water instead of the goods or the slimes directly."
Celia's brow furrowed before understanding dawned. "The lightning will spread through the water..."
"Exactly," Vel nodded. "Water and salt make the perfect conductive elements. The current will stun all the slimes simultaneously without damaging the non-conductive materials like glass and silk."
Vel turned his attention to the logistics of their improvised plan.
"We need to plug that drain first," he pointed to the corner where water would escape through. Without it sealed, they'd never build up enough water for the plan to work.
The merchant followed Vel's gaze and nodded in understanding. "I have this."
Belwin cautiously descended the last few steps, skirting around a particularly aggressive blue slime that lunged toward his boot. He reached the corner drain and twisted an iron handle beside it, shutting off the drainage system with a metallic screech. Once the drain was sealed, he quickly backed away, taking the stairs two at a time.
"Alright, everyone stand back," Vel instructed, positioning himself at a safe distance from the basement floor.
He focused, drawing mana into his core as he prepared to cast. The sigils for water generation formed in his mind, and he raised his hands toward the basement opening.
"Fluvenis Aquar Vastare!"
Water materialized from his outstretched hands, cascading down into the basement in a powerful stream. The torrent was far stronger than a simple conjuration—this was continuous generation, designed to fill rather than merely exist.
Minutes passed as Vel maintained the spell, sweat beading on his forehead as his mana reserves steadily depleted.
This much mana already costs more than five silvers, Vel thought bitterly. The payment for this job was looking increasingly inadequate as he poured literal energy into solving the merchant's problem.
The slimes began to float as the water level rose, their gelatinous bodies bobbing harmlessly on the surface. The precious merchandise remained mostly submerged, protected from direct contact with the creatures. When the water reached halfway up the basement walls, Vel finally cut off the spell, stepping back and wiping his brow.
"Celia, your turn," he said, nodding toward the flooded basement.
Celia drew her rapier with a flourish, its slender blade gleaming in the dim light. She approached the edge of the basement floor, now transformed into a murky pool containing dozens of floating slimes.
The creatures bobbed and rolled on the surface, producing soft gurgling sounds—almost like mischievous laughter—that made Vel grimace. How did they even make noise without vocal cords? The slimes seemed to be enjoying their chaotic mess. Without hesitation, she extended her arm and plunged the tip of her rapier into the water.
"Trinity Volt!" Celia called out, her voice steady as she executed her sword art with smooth confidence.
Instead of striking the slimes directly, she aimed at the water's surface near her feet. The rapier's tip glowed with crackling energy before discharging into the liquid. Blue-white electricity arced from the point of contact, dancing across the water's surface in jagged patterns.
The current spread instantly, linking every conductive point in the basement. Vel watched in fascination as electricity found the path of least resistance through the water and the salt, creating a deadly network that ensnared every slime.
The gelatinous creatures jolted violently. Their bodies convulsed outward, stretching as if being pulled from a hundred different directions at once. Some expanded to twice their original size, their translucent forms distorting grotesquely as electricity coursed through them.
Then, one by one, they grew still. The convulsions stopped, and the slimes began to sink, their bodies losing cohesion. They softly bobbed down beneath the water's surface, melting into formless goo. Their cellular structure—or whatever passed for it in these abominations—dissolving completely.
As the last slime died, their remains dissolved into the water, creating a disgusting mixture that resembled sewage more than anything else. The basement now contained a murky, viscous soup of former slimes and dirty water, with the merchant's goods still submerged in the revolting liquid.
"Yuck," Celia said, wrinkling her nose at the foul smell rising from the basement. She sheathed her rapier and stepped back. "Someone needs to pull that drain now."
Vel looked at Celia, who was already backing away toward the stairs, making it abundantly clear she had no intention of wading into that filth.
He turned to the merchant, who returned his gaze with an expectant expression.
"I... paid you to do this," Belwin said, gesturing vaguely toward the offensive mixture.
Vel placed his palm against his forehead and slowly dragged it down his face. Of course it had to be him.
Vel groaned as he waded toward the drain, each step sending ripples through the disgusting mixture. The foul odor intensified as he disturbed the surface, making him hold his breath. Gritting his teeth, he extended his arm down into the murky soup and twisted the iron handle to open the drain.
Immediately, the mixture began to swirl and flow toward him, creating a powerful current that threatened to unbalance his already precarious footing.
"Ugh!" Vel jumped awkwardly sideways, splashing through knee-deep slime residue to avoid becoming the center of this revolting whirlpool.
The vortex formed quickly as years of drainage engineering did its work, creating a powerful suction that drew the dissolved slimes toward the now-open drain.
"Thanks the gods I didn't reincarnate as one of them," Vel muttered bitterly, standing waist-deep in slime residue.
The comment seemed directed at no one in particular—though if someone had been watching closely, they might have caught the hint of self-recrimination in his voice.
As the water level dropped, it revealed the true extent of the damage. Residue clung to every surface—walls, floor, wooden beams, and merchandise alike. A thin film of translucent slime covered everything, glistening in the dim light. The basement floor emerged wet and sticky, coated with the remnants of their extermination effort.
Vel sloshed his way back toward the stairs, each step accompanied by an unpleasant squelching sound from his soaked boots. He paused at the bottom step, deliberately shaking each foot to dislodge some of the clinging residue.
"Well, good luck with the cleaning," Vel said to the merchant, who looked horrified at the state of his basement.
Belwin's face fell as he surveyed the aftermath of their slime elimination strategy. Though effective, it had left an entirely new problem in its wake.
Vel glanced down at his pants, now thoroughly soaked up to mid-thigh with filthy water and dissolving slime residue. The formerly neat Academy uniform was ruined, at least for today.
"I feel bad for Hileya when she cleans this and the questions that she might have," Vel muttered as he contemplated the mess he'd made of himself.
Vel trudged alongside Celia as they entered the Lona Guild Hall, his boots making an unpleasant sticky sound with each step. The dried slime residue had crusted over his once-pristine Academy uniform, creating stiff patches that crackled when he moved.
"At least it doesn't smell anymore," Celia remarked, keeping a deliberate distance from him.
"Small mercies," Vel muttered.
Voices echoed off the stone walls as adventurers called out completion reports to harried receptionists. Papers rustled at every desk while others clustered around bulletin boards, pointing at notices and arguing over territorial claims. Vel and Celia joined the queue for quest completion, standing behind several battle-worn adventurers waiting their turn.
A tall man with shoulder-length brown hair turned from outside the line, his eyes immediately dropping to Vel's crusted pants. A silver-white card hung from a chain around his neck.
"Let me guess, slime quest?" he asked, lips quirking into an amused smile.
"What gave it away?" Vel replied flatly, gesturing to the dried patches covering his lower half.
The adventurer burst into laughter, clapping Vel on the shoulder before walking away, still chuckling to himself.
That's it. If I ever get the chance, I'm purging them from existence.
"How would a genocide spell work in this world?" Vel grumbled, loud enough for Celia to hear.
"Vel!" Celia scolded, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.
As they inched closer to the front of the line, a familiar boisterous voice carried across the hall from another queue.
"Come on, shouldn't I deserve it? I've completed your request to every detail and more."
Wait. I know that voice.
"Sir, these requests are not from me," a female receptionist replied, her tone professional but clearly strained.
"I get it, but still, at least tell me when you get off work."
Vel froze. That voice—loud, overconfident, borderline obnoxious—was unmistakable despite the years that had passed.
Honka. The gold-ranked monk from Elnor's guild.
He stood at Mori's desk, his large frame leaning forward as he attempted to charm the clearly uncomfortable receptionist.
"Is he courting her?!" Vel whispered in disbelief. "Of all people, Honka?"
Vel stepped out of the line, gesturing for Celia to continue forward without him.
This I have to see for myself.
"I'll catch up," he whispered.
Celia raised an eyebrow but nodded, sliding forward to hold their place in the queue.
Vel approached Mori's desk with measured steps. The receptionist maintained her professional composure, hands folded neatly before her, though Vel detected the slight strain in her posture. Her eyes flicked toward Vel, perhaps hoping for rescue from Honka's unwanted advances.
"Sir, if you have no more request, please leave the line for the next person," Mori stated, her voice level despite the evident annoyance in her eyes.
Honka scratched his bald head, the thick muscles of his arm flexing with the casual motion. He wore the same style of fur-trimmed clothing Vel remembered from years ago, though the specific garments looked newer.
"But there's no one else here—" Honka began to protest, then turned as he sensed someone approaching.
Honka tilted his head, clearly trying to place the familiar face. He blinked hard, shaking his head as if to clear his vision. Then his mouth dropped open in sudden understanding.
"By Iz'mir, that you kid?" Honka's booming voice echoed through the guild hall. Several nearby adventurers glanced their way, curious about the outburst.
Honka stepped aside as Vel approached, allowing another adventurer access to Mori's desk.
"Didn't expect to see you here," Vel said, crossing his arms. "Weren't you registered to Elnor's Guild?"
Honka's chest puffed up with his usual bravado. "Ah, the world of high-ranked adventurers isn't bound to one location, kid."
Despite the familiar boastfulness, Vel noticed subtle differences in the monk. His face appeared more weathered, with faint lines around his eyes that hadn't been there before. Something about his gaze seemed more thoughtful, less impulsive. And whenever Mori glanced their way, Honka's eyes darted toward her, his posture straightening ever so slightly.
Honka looked Vel up and down, his eyes lingering on the dried slime patches covering Vel's pants. A smirk spread across his face. "Though I see you're already making small coin. Academy uniform and all."
Before Vel could respond, Honka raised his voice, just loud enough to ensure Mori could hear from her desk.
"After saving you from those Wulfangs, I've been promoted to upper Gold Rank." He thumped his chest proudly. "You might not know, but the higher the rank, the more valuable an asset you become. Every guild branch has work for you when you reach my level."
Vel noticed Honka's obvious attempt to impress Mori, who maintained her professional demeanor despite the clear display happening mere feet from her desk.
Mori's hands paused briefly over her paperwork before resuming as if she hadn't heard.
Honka's expectant smile faltered at the corners when Mori showed no visible reaction to his self-promotion. His shoulders sagged slightly, the earlier bravado diminishing by a fraction.
Vel bit back a smile. Four years had passed, yet some things remained unchanged—Honka's transparent attempts at impressing women were still as ineffective as ever.
The monk's large hand suddenly clamped onto Vel's shoulder, pulling him a step closer with surprising gentleness for someone of his strength. Honka leaned down, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that smelled faintly of ale.
"Hey kid, see that lady over there? If you come here often, put in good words for me."
Vel glanced at Mori, who was now helping another adventurer at her desk, her professional demeanor unwavering. He considered the monk's request, finding it oddly endearing that someone of Honka's status would ask for help from a mere Academy student covered in dried slime.
"In return, I would teach you a few moves that I've learned in this line of work," Honka offered, his voice unexpectedly sincere. "Deal?"
It had never occurred to Vel before. He'd been so focused on sword techniques and magical spells that hand-to-hand combat remained a blind spot in his training. Yet Honka's offer was surprisingly valuable. Monk combat styles—fighting with nothing but your bare hands—could be a lifeline if he ever found himself without a weapon or unable to cast magic.
Vel nodded slightly, considering the proposition. He might not have liked Honka's boisterous demeanor during their first encounter years ago, but now, the monk felt like a long-lost acquaintance. After everything that happened with Clara, some part of Vel genuinely wanted to help Honka find romantic success too.
"Okay," Vel agreed. "I'll put in a good word when I can."
Honka grinned and clapped him on the shoulder again. They had just sealed their deal when Celia walked over, quest reward in hand.
"Vel, I got our payment for the—"
Celia's words died on her lips as she recognized the large monk. The transformation in Honka's expression was immediate and jarring. His smile vanished, replaced by something raw and pained. The sight of Celia—with her striking resemblance to Clara—clearly triggered something in him.
Guilt contorted Honka's features. Vel understood immediately. If not for Honka's recklessness during that fateful mission, Clara might not have lost an arm. She would have been at full strength when facing those Alpha Wulfangs. The weight of that knowledge seemed to press down on Honka's broad shoulders, momentarily stealing away his characteristic confidence.
Vel looked at Celia, her expression unreadable as she stared at Honka. The guild hall's noise seemed to fade around them, creating a bubble of tense silence.
Celia's knuckles whitened around the coin pouch, a flash of recognition hardening her gaze.
Would she still blame Honka for what happened? Or had she moved on from it? Vel held his breath, ready to intervene if needed.
"You must be..." Celia said slowly, her voice carefully controlled.
Honka swallowed hard, his usual bravado evaporated. "Honka," he confirmed quietly. "I was in... under your sister's command back in Oakhaven."
"You must be Celia," Honka continued. "I've heard of you from within Elnor guild."
Celia took a long pause, her eyes scanning Honka's face as Vel recognized a complex storm of emotions washing over her—grief, curiosity, and deeper anger. But as she studied the guilt-ridden man before her, the hardness gradually softened. This was not the reckless adventurer from the reports.
Finally, Celia straightened her shoulders.
"Thank you," she said, her voice measured and calm, "for helping Vel and his village."
Vel blinked in surprise. Of all the things he expected Celia to say, simple gratitude wasn't one of them. She deliberately avoided mentioning Clara's sacrifice or Honka's role in what happened that day, leaving a conspicuous gap in the conversation.
Honka's broad shoulders sagged with visible relief, though his eyes remained heavy with regret.
"It was my duty," he said quietly, all his earlier bravado gone. "Though I wish things could have been different... better."
"You did what you could. If anyone were to blame, it should be those monsters."
A sharp pain lanced through Vel's chest at her words. The blame she deflected from Honka landed squarely on him—a heavy, secret weight of a creator responsible for his own tragic creations.
The abrupt silence seemed to draw Mori's attention. Vel noticed Mori glancing up with genuine interest—his vulnerability had accomplished what his boasting couldn't.
Celia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her posture relaxing slightly.
"What happened in the past belongs to the past," she said softly. "We all did what we could with what we had."
Honka's expression lightened at her words, the burden of guilt visibly lifting from his broad shoulders. He straightened up, some of his natural confidence returning, though tempered now with newfound humility.
"Whenever I'm not on duty," Honka said, his voice regaining some of its former strength, "I'm still looking for her, gathering information that might help. Similar cases, strange portals, unexplained disappearances. Nothing useful right now, but as soon as it does..."
He left the promise unfinished, but its meaning hung clearly in the air between them.
Celia nodded, a flicker of appreciation and hope crossing her features.
Honka gave another glance toward Mori, clearly uncomfortable with the situation's emotional weight. The receptionist quickly looked down at her paperwork, but not before Vel caught the faint smile tugging at her lips.
"Alright kids," Honka said, giving Vel's shoulder a light punch that still managed to make him wince, "if you need any help, you know where to find me."
With that, he excused himself and left the guild hall, his confident swagger slightly more subdued than when he'd entered.
As Honka disappeared through the main entrance, Celia turned to Vel, the small pouch of coins from their quest still in her hand. The tension had drained from her shoulders, replaced by a thoughtful quiet.
"He's... not what I expected," she murmured, more to herself than to Vel.
"He's changed, somehow," Vel agreed, watching Mori at her desk. The receptionist was attending to another adventurer, but her movements seemed lighter, the professional mask less rigid.
"I read the reports, you know," Celia continued, her voice low. "About Oakhaven. About what happened to Clara-neechan. For a long time, I... I wondered if I should hate him."
Vel remained silent, letting her speak. This wasn't a moment for his input.
"But seeing him just now... he's carrying it, too." She finally looked at Vel, her gaze clear. "He hasn't forgotten. That's enough."
She offered him a small, genuine smile. "Come on. Let's go. I'm starving, and you still need a new pair of pants."
"Right. The pants." Vel glanced down at his slime-crusted uniform and sighed.
As they turned to leave, Vel caught Mori's eye one last time. She gave him a subtle, almost imperceptible nod of thanks before turning back to her work. The deal was sealed, and a new, unexpected alliance had been formed. The day had turned out far more complicated than a simple slime quest.
---
Vel spent the weekend buried in research, emerging only to check Hileya's dagger practice or ensure Celia received her meals. The memory of Honka's guilt-stricken face kept intruding on his reading.
The walk home from the Guild had tested his dignity. Servants quickened their pace. Students pointed and whispered. One merchant had actually crossed the street to avoid the slime-crusted Academy student.
"What happened to you?" Falken had asked when Vel shuffled through the entrance, leaving flakes of dried slime on the polished floor.
Upon reaching his room, he'd found Hileya waiting with dinner. Her eyes had widened at the sight of his uniform.
"I'm so sorry in advance," Vel said. "This might be beyond saving."
Hileya accepted the crusted garment with surprising grace. "I've handled worse," she assured him, though her expression suggested otherwise.
Now, as Cosmos-day* evening faded, Vel's thoughts kept returning to Clara. His chest tightened each time he remembered Celia's forgiveness of Honka—forgiveness that should have been directed at him.
Four years of protecting Celia, supporting her Academy dreams, being the friend she needed—and still his conscience remained unsettled.
"What happened in the past belongs to the past," Celia had said to Honka.
If only she knew who she was really forgiving.
Vel closed the elemental theory tome with a decisive snap. Tomorrow brought classes with the unstable group—Tomas, Enya, Mira, and Rohen.
Perhaps by understanding Chaos, by proving these students weren't broken but simply misunderstood, he could begin to balance the scales of his conscience.