So now he was having a staring contest with a slime.
Strange? Yes. But there was a deeper reason behind it—one born not of curiosity, but desperation. His mouth was dry as sand, and the more he stared at the bouncy, blue blob in front of him, the worse it got.
Now that he thought about it, he hadn't had a single drop of water since waking up. And that slime… it looked suspiciously hydrated.
Now the real question was: was it edible?
He took a step forward.
His green eyes narrowed on the Hydro Slime as he licked his lips, a thirsty gleam in his eye.
"Are you… suckable?" he whispered with complete seriousness.
The slime visibly shuddered, as if it somehow understood—quickly it turned in fear and bounced away into the forest.
"Oh no you don't!" Riven shouted, sprinting after it.
The chase zigzagged through the trees, weaving past rocks, fallen logs, and uneven terrain.
Riven was barefoot, and he could've sworn he stepped on every sharp rock in the forest—but he didn't care. He was determined.
"You're not getting away!" Riven shouted.
He lunged for the slime, but it slipped from his grasp, bouncing straight into a hollow log and shooting out the other end.
Riven groaned and scrambled over the log—it was too wide to crawl through.
On the other side, he spotted it bouncing away.
With a final burst of energy, he leapt forward, tackling the slime mid-air and clutching it like a long-lost pillow.
Without a second thought, he pressed his mouth to its squishy surface and began slurping.
The juicy water slid down his throat and, to his surprise… It was delicious—cool, sweet, and oddly refreshing.
But then the slime let out a soft pop—and burst in his arms.
The aftermath left him covered in sticky slime remains. As he wiped himself off, smaller slime remains fell to the ground around him, and at the center lay a glowing blue core.
He quickly wiped his mouth, glancing around the remains nervously.
Yeah… definitely not telling anyone about this.
Carefully, he picked up the strange core and tucked it into his bag. It might be useful. Maybe.
But then he paused.
He looked up… and froze.
A whole herd of Hydro Slimes stood at the edge of the clearing, silently staring at him.
Riven slowly raised his hands. "Was that, uh… one of your family members? Oh. I'm uh—so sorry."
His eyes twitched.
Great. They totally watched me drain that slime.
What followed could only be described as a full-blown angry mob. A herd of furious Hydro Slimes launched into motion, bouncing after him.
And who were they chasing?
Yours truly.
He dashed through the forest, leaping over twisted roots, ducking under low branches, and regretting… well, okay, not everything.
"The slime was delicious!" he shouted over his shoulder, grinning.
But the slimes weren't laughing. They were relentless, bouncing after him with squishy vengeance—determined, angry, and honestly, kind of terrifying.
With no other choice, he scrambled up a tree, panting hard. From his perch, he peeked down. The slimes had surrounded the base, bouncing in place and staring up at him with watery wrath.
Then, in perfect unison, they leapt—splashing down with a force that sent a wave of Hydro up the trunk. The whole tree shook violently. Riven clung tighter to the branches, eyes wide.
"Aha! You're not getting me that easily!" he laughed nervously.
But then his smile faded.
One of the slimes looked… different. Bigger. Darker. With a faint swirl inside it.
It puffed up like it was inhaling, expanded twice its size, then began to float.
"It can fly!?"
Before he could react, the flying slime launched a blast of compressed air—Anemo, right at him. He tried to dodge, but couldn't move much, clinging to the tree.
The gust slammed into him.
He tumbled from the tree, crashing hard into the ground below—right in the middle of the slime herd—with a sharp crack echoing through the clearing.
Riven winced, pain shooting up his arm.
"…I think I broke something."
Before he had a chance to recover, the slimes pounced—one after another, bouncing on top of him like they were taking turns delivering squishy justice.
Then, the crowd parted.
A larger slime emerged, oozing authority and rage. This one was different, denser, darker, pulsing with energy. Maybe it was their leader… or worse, their mother.
Riven closed his eyes.
Well… this is it. I never even got the chance to remember who I am.
But then—his hand brushed against something in the dirt. A broken tree branch. Gripping it tight, he growled through the pain. No. Not here. Not like this.
With a surge of adrenaline, he pushed himself to his feet, the branch shaking in his injured hand. The end was jagged, sharp enough to matter.
He raised it and glared at the slimes.
"Back up," Riven growled, gripping the jagged stick. "Unless you want to end up like your friend, drained dry because I wasn't even satisfied."
The slimes didn't flinch. If anything, they looked more furious, bouncing in unison, ready to strike.
Then—
"Woof! Woof!"
A bark echoed through the trees.
Out of nowhere, a white-and-black husky with piercing blue eyes darted into the clearing, leaping and snapping at one of the slimes. Its fangs sank into the slime surface, causing it to squeal and wobble away in panic.
From the shadows, an old man stepped forward, calm as still water.
He wore a long, weathered black coat, its edges trimmed with faded gold and embroidered with old Mondstadt hunting patterns.
A wide-brimmed black hat rested on his head, tilted just low enough to cast a shadow over his sharp brown eyes. Slung over his shoulder was a well-maintained flintlock rifle, brown wood with intricate metalwork, clearly custom-crafted, but built for real use.
Pinned to the side of his coat hanging from his belt, was a deep red, encased in ornate gold. Its soft glow pulsed like a steady ember, marking him unmistakably as a Vision bearer.
The old man raised his rifle, took aim, and without a word—
BANG!
The shot cracked through the air. The large slime exploded in a splash of Hydro mist.
The remaining slimes froze… then scattered in every direction, bouncing for their squishy lives.
Riven blinked, still clutching the stick.
"…Okay, whoa."
From beneath the brim of his hat, the old man narrowed his eyes.
"Well now… what in Barbatos' good name are you doin' all the way out here, nearly buck-naked? Don't tell me you're one of those treasure hoarders."
He casually lifted the rifle, taking aim.
"Wait, wait—no! I'm not!" Riven yelped, throwing his hands up fast.