Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Dark Slime and Vampire
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◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Philip leaped into the air as if flying, swinging his sword.
The falling black mass caught on Philip's blade, but there was no satisfying sensation of slicing through flesh.
It felt like a lump formed from clumped sewage, and Philip instantly recognized its true nature.
'Dark Slime? Wait, does that mean...?'
One half of the bisected Dark Slime lunged toward Janis Muruella.
"Kyaaak!"
Janis screamed as the inky liquid mass engulfed her face.
"Eup! Heu-eup!"
As the squelching, sticky mass invaded her nose, mouth, and ears, she plunged into full panic in an instant.
"Miss!"
Stefan and Cheryl cried out.
Philip, cold sweat beading on his brow, swung at the remaining half of the Dark Slime. It shattered into several pieces, vanishing amid a plume of foul smoke.
'Damn it. The core's probably in that half.'
The core seemed to be in the piece that had smothered Janis.
"What in the world?"
Instructor Perek rushed over and examined Janis's state.
"...A slime?"
He hurriedly began chanting a flame hand spell. Philip bellowed.
"Stop!"
He smacked the flat of his blade against the staff in Perek's grip. No mage's feeble hold could withstand a swordsman's strike.
As Perek shot him a look demanding answers, Philip rapidly relayed the key information.
"It absorbs mana."
Perek paled in shock.
"What? Then how do we...?"
"Fire! Pure flame fueled only by human strength—no mana involved."
Philip's urgency mounted.
Dark Slimes were horrific beasts that didn't appear until the original story's midgame.
Not a natural monster, but a race spawned by demonic hands—nicknamed the "Mage Crusher." Without knowing the proper counter, you were helpless.
Fail to eliminate it upfront, and it devoured the victim's brain, absorbing their knowledge and experience to grow endlessly.
That spelled certain death for Janis Muruella.
The ideal fix was dousing it in oil and setting it ablaze the moment it appeared. Its mana-absorption trait made flame magic useless, and its liquid nature resisted sword aura too.
In desperation, Philip thrust his hand toward the Dark Slime smothering Janis.
Without clearing a breathing path, she'd suffocate before he could resolve it.
"...No helping it. Everyone, stay back from me. This thing doesn't pick targets."
"Got it for now. Can you handle this?"
Instructor Perek asked. Philip nodded.
"Somehow."
The instant his hand touched the Dark Slime's body, a vile, profane energy coursed through his arm.
He pushed his aura to its absolute limit. The Dark Slime began to writhe.
"That's right. Come to me."
Demons had imprinted Dark Slimes with just one instinct.
Survival.
Dominated by the primal urge to endure and evolve into something superior, the Dark Slime shifted toward a tastier energy source.
Had it possessed any intellect, it would've finished off Janis—the easy prey already in its grasp. But it was merely an inorganic blob.
Philip felt it slithering up his arm. His hard-earned aura tasted far more appetizing than Janis's mana.
Suffocating terror and nauseating revulsion made his body shudder involuntarily.
A single misstep here, and it'd devour his brain instead. Yet Philip trusted himself.
'Bring it, you filth.'
The mana property conversion he'd grasped recently. With that, a mere Dark Slime was no match. Forcing himself to ignore the black ooze creeping toward his face, Philip focused his mind.
A force antithetical to the creature's corrupt, vicious mana—one embodying purification and evil-slaying.
That was the very essence pursued by the secret art Moonlight Sword.
A faint glow soon emanated from Philip's body: a pale, ethereal light reminiscent of moonlight.
He sensed the Dark Slime thrashing in what seemed like a scream. Moments later, it tried peeling away from his arm.
"Instructor!"
Perfectly timed, Instructor Perek hurled a burning robe. It blazed fiercely, as if oil-soaked.
It sailed past Philip, landing near Cheryl. On pure instinct, she snatched it up and dashed toward him.
"Back off. It might go for you next."
Philip clung to the fleeing slime, steadying his voice as much as possible. Cheryl retreated a few steps. Gritting his teeth, Philip plunged his arm into the roaring flames.
Belching black, acrid smoke, the Dark Slime began to melt.
"......"
Philip kept his arm in until the body charred completely away.
Even shielded by aura, searing pain lanced through him. When he finally withdrew, his sleeve had burned to ash, exposing raw skin.
"Phew..."
The moment Philip exhaled in relief, the dungeon trembled violently—like an earthquake.
"Inst...ructor?"
"Run—everyone!"
Philip shouted urgently. His battle-honed instincts screamed that collapse was imminent.
Instructor Perek sensed it too, glancing at him.
"Instructor, move—now!"
Philip was already in motion. He scooped the unconscious Janis into one arm and seized Cheryl's hand with the other.
But they were a step too slow.
Philip felt the ground beneath him split wide. Desperately, he wrapped his arm around Cheryl's waist.
Lunging forward would've guaranteed a fall—the footing too unstable for three bodies.
'This is insane. Actually insane.'
He sighed, then yelled toward Perek and Priscilla.
"Get the students out now! I'll manage here somehow."
"Don't be ridiculous! We leave together!"
As Instructor Perek's neck veins bulged, the platform under Philip gave way.
"Kya aaaaak!"
Cheryl shrieked, clutching him desperately.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Janis Muruella awoke to a pounding, skull-splitting headache.
'...I can breathe. I'm alive?'
Her body responded to her will, thoughts flowing clearly. The surroundings were dim, but not pitch-black.
"...Hic."
Clarity brought a flood of pre-faint horrors: terror, helplessness, despair. For a sixteen-year-old girl, death's shadow weighed far too heavily.
"Sniff... Hiiing..."
Tears welling, she scanned her vicinity—and spotted Cheryl standing guard nearby.
"Miss?"
"Che...ryl?"
"Are you alright? Any injuries?"
"I’m... sniff... seems fine. Where are we?"
"Dungeon sublevel. The ground caved while you were out..."
Janis sensed something off. Cheryl avoided her gaze. Worse, raw fear laced Cheryl's voice.
"What... what happened?"
Cheryl hesitated, then replied.
"Instructor Philip shielded us and fell with us. He said he'd scout and headed that way briefly..."
"W-well, people will come soon enough. What's the issue?"
"It's... not that simple. Passages all seem blocked. Even if the academy sends rescuers, finding this spot quickly seems unlikely..."
Their location was a cave, not dungeon proper: one wall sealed, a deep passage opposite.
"Still... the instructor's here, so..."
Janis clung to optimism. She knew Philip's reputation. As a noble lady from a prominent house, how could she ignore the infamous delinquent whispered about in high society?
She'd simply never cared.
Cheryl nodded stiffly at Janis's words. Without Philip here, terror might've driven her mad.
But Cheryl held her tongue.
To spare her and Janis injury, Philip had taken the bottom of the fall—and paid with wounds.
"We need to move. I'm a mage who can assist the instructor. Helping might turn things around."
Janis rose as she spoke. Then it hit her.
'...Why am I so damp down there?'
Her lower body felt unnaturally wet.
'No way... I didn't? Me? Janis of House Muruella?'
Denial changed nothing. Grimacing tearfully, she sniffled. For one raised in luxury, the shame was crushing.
"Miss, what's wrong?"
"N-nothing. Really."
The stench alone would've tipped Cheryl off. Janis realized she was tactfully ignoring it.
She accepted the kindness quietly.
"...Let's go."
"Yes."
Cheryl agreed Janis ranked among peers' top mages. Keeping distance, the pair trailed Philip's path.
"That's... blood, isn't it?"
Mid-passage, they found bloody smears.
"He took the brunt protecting us with his body. That's probably why..."
Cheryl's voice cracked. Janis's heart raced. She'd mastered every magic field possible—except healing, which demanded innate gifts she lacked.
Hurrying, they nearly overtook Philip. At the passage's end—opening to a vast cavern—he faced something.
Janis shuddered despite herself.
"Uh... huh?"
"What... is that?"
Philip, sensing their approach, sighed heavily.
"Why didn't you stay put?"
Janis Muruella trembled violently, jabbing a finger ahead.
"Instructor. What is that thing?"
It bore a human silhouette.
Save for the membranous wings... and skin far paler than any mortal's.
Janis nearly choked on a hiccup.
'Vampire... a demon...'
A demon straight from legend: a vampire.
Despair drained Janis's face. If it was truly a vampire, Philip, her, Cheryl—all doomed.
Vampires ranked with titled demons. Even elites like the Orum Knights or Crimson Mage Tower shunned solo confrontations with such monstrosities.
"...Kik."
White fangs bared, the vampire leered. Janis gripped her staff with quivering hands.
'This is a headache.'
Philip's body was far from peak.
No fractures or organ trauma, but scrapes everywhere meant heavy bleeding—practically offering his vitals on a platter.
The vampire's innate "Blood Manipulation" wreaked divine havoc on the wounded.
Less dire against an aura-wielder like him, but hastening his blood loss? Trivial for it.
"Janis, Cheryl."
Calling their names, Philip raised his sword.
Prolonging this meant defeat. One decisive strike was essential.
A pureblood demon vampire wouldn't perish from mere wounds.
"I appreciate wanting to help, but please—just stay put and do nothing."
No choice. He invoked the Moonlight Sword, a technique barely begun.
From the iron sword he'd brought in Neria's stead, pale moonlight sword aura surged—not the blade's original blue.
The secret art of a swordmaster from ages past—"Otem"—revealed anew to the world.