The Slime Farmer

The words that Natan spoke were punctuated by the sound of another explosion.

Natan frowned. "That is not –"

The world shuddered, cutting him off.

This time, the quake did not end in the ground calming and the soldiers subtly straightening in anticipation of an army victory.

After the initial quake, the whole world seemed to keep trembling. Dust and pebbles rained down the ceiling and sides of the tunnel.

Abruptly, Defi remembered the sight of the Groaning Cliff, the crumbling dusty spires, the haphazard delicate positioning of the smooth, heavy façade.

He did not appear to be the only person who had the same idea.

"The other prisoners!"

"They're in Stone Cages."

When Raun heard that, he immediately turned toward the other cells. His face changed, dismay peeking out. "I only have two Rockdiggers left."

There were six other closed cells in the corridor.

Defi untied the sheathed sword from his belt, handed it to Natan, along with a sample bottle of savras slime extract. "If you die after such a declaration, I will not stop Emra from laughing at your funeral."

Natan snorted in amusement, but he took the sword. Then the man clasped his arm solemnly, before moving to help the others.

Defi noted he was now wearing soft boots.

When did that happen?

He shook the inane thought from his head and stepped toward Raun instead. "May I see one of those cards?"

Raun handed him a sigilcard promptly. If it was a regular situation, he probably wouldn't have. But a man dying of thirst in a desert would even try and squeeze water out of a stone.

Defi nearly sighed in relief. It was a second-level card, built for miners of iron and other metals.

There were two types of Rockdiggers and the second, built specifically for gem miners who needed more care in excavating than metal miners, was a level above the other.

Defi had only half-way grasped the assignment Jast had given him, but from the look of the Rockdigger card in his hand, it was second-level only because of the incorporation of the minor glyph needed to control the output and the increased power requirements due to that single glyph. It added extra complexity to the design, much like the modelling illusion Karles had shown Defi was a fifth-level card because of the multiple control glyphs needed for it.

The theory and the materials put into the second-level Rockdigger card were basic.

Defi returned the card to Raun, took out a knife and inscribed a circle into the rock wall. The elements needed for the materials were inclined to air and water. Wasn't it a coincidence that savras slime extract fit the requirements perfectly? He had two bottles of the stuff left after giving Natan one.

Raun shook his head with a doubtful look, but he went off to use the last two of his Rockdiggers on the next cells.

Defi only had theories about carving emblems. It was very much unlike inking them. He had studied the slime-summoning tablet but the design was difficult to comprehend.

Stone needed more supporters than paper cards did, for instance. He placed four glyphs carefully at four parts of the circle to help contain the emblem. It was the only one he knew for emblem-carving actually, the most basic containment. In both card-making and stone-carving, the containment, the designs around the edges, would be fancier.

The only reason he considered this, was that carving emblems had a looser interpretation of what ingredients were needed. In fact, apart from minor adjustments, it really needed a steady stream of power inclined to a particular Shade.

Defi was not a person who knew how to manifest the Seven Colors, but so far all his emblems accepted the Current and all the emblems made by others had activated successfully with the power within him.

Savras was inclined to air, slimes were inclined to water. He slathered the savras extract over the design and let the Current flow into the liquid and the stone, enhancing the attributes of air and water and melding them into the emblem.

A few moments that seemed too long, and the rock crumbled, leaving the people in the cell to stare at him in disbelieving dawning joy.

Defi gave them a quick smile, slightly strained. "The cliff is crumbling. Hurry."

Then he made for the second cell.

There were noises of people talking and an explosion behind him, but he focused once again on the circle that he needed to contain the emblem. The feeling of the Current conforming to paths in the design was…it was unsettling.

The Current flowed through everything and nothing, between everything and nothing.

It did not...

It raged and calmed, a force of nature.

It could not be tamed, only directed temporarily.

In all of Defi's experience, only a person could coax a tiny insignificant bit of Current to curb from its flow.

And yet, some simple lines, some ancient arbitrary symbols, some calculations, they actually managed to direct the Creator's Gift?

Alchemy and eikons were different, they did not disturb the flow of the Current and were sooner or later washed away.

This emblem carving…

The Current flowed through the incorporeal channels created by the glyphs, creating an eddy where there ought to be none. If the emblem glyphs were not meant to destroy themselves, that eddy would likely be there forever.

He stifled a sigh.

Ascharon truly was a land that would make a heretic of him.

Ancient texts did say that gods spoke to each other in numbers, but he did not think it would be interpreted this literally.

The rock crumbled before him.

He nodded to the people within.

There was no need to speak of hurrying anymore. The tunnels were shaking more than before.

He turned to the other cells, only to see Emra initiate a water drill of some sort, piercing through the wall in several places and causing the stone cage to crumble.

The woman smirked at him before stalking off. "You were taking too long."

He glanced around. The last cell was open, the scorch marks on the edges bearing proof that it had been exploded by something. One of the men was being insulted by a friend, even as he and the others ushered the freed people down the corridor.

"It worked alright?!" the man yelled exasperated. One of Baurd's cohort, if Defi remembered correctly.

Considering the small cuts on the faces of the still grateful prisoners, it really could have been worse.

"You…Lowpool?"

Defi turned to see one of the people from the cell Emra had broken open looking at him in bleary surprise. He recognized him, glanced at the others. "Jacar. Is everyone in this cell well? We need to run."

The savras seller grinned widely, only slightly gaunter than the last time Defi saw him. "After days sleeping, our feet should feel restless by now."

Defi let his lips curl up in a smile. "Good. I still need your savras, you see."

Jacar snickered, a laugh that grew into a guffaw, slightly hysterical. He subsided, and beamed at Defi. "Sure. You'll have to wait a few more days though."

Defi pushed the last bottle of savras extract into Jacar's hands and retraced his steps into the tunnels. The evacuation should not take more than a quarter hour to sunlight.

He jogged into the corridor that the others were running or hobbling through as best they could while avoiding debris falling from the crumbling ceiling.

The tunnel branched. He glanced at the Genlet hunter waving the people through the other entrance urgently, holding a torch aloft.

He was not going back that way. It was an uncomfortable thought, to not contribute to the end of this matter himself. He held some responsibility.

In the end, heretic or no, noble or no, he still thought of himself as Ontrean.

He could not be anything else.

He paused to take up two halberds from fallen guards and slipped into the dark tunnel. The lit torches that illuminated the hideout had been shaken down the wall sconces already, only one or two left burning steadfast.

It was enough light.

He rounded the corner, stopped.

There were nine people there, digging through a collapsed part of the tunnel. Emra, Natanel, the archer who was Helan's brother, Emeson of the spontaneous poetry, Daved, several more from the surrounding towns and villages.

Natan was not the only one who wanted a piece of the fight in the front.

He stepped forward, angling his first halberd to dig into the rocks and soil when the wall of debris crumbled. On the other side, a guard reared back in shock at the sight of them, white and black on his chest.

Defi hurled the halberd through the opened gap.

This ended today.

*

Major Andar il Vons had lost his horse. His beloved Charolaine had taken down three of the mercenaries before the stallion had succumbed. He glanced to his right as he heard a familiar roar. His summon beast, a blue tigerbear, still leaped and swatted down the summons of the other side. It was the only summons from the company still on the field. He could feel the tug of the bond in his gut. His Artarius was fading even now.

His teeth bared in a humorless smile as he slid his sword into one of the leaders of the bandits.

Blood pumped vigorously through his veins.

He had not expected the enemy to have enough mages talented enough to create the Fireburst Shock. His men had paid the price, too inexperienced to effectively redirect the force of the attack.

In terms of numbers, it was already an excellent thing that only sixteen of them had died. A well-placed Fireburst Shock could decimate ten times that number if aimed properly.

Andar flicked the blood off his blade. "Report."

"Major, we are holding the line. Resistance on my platoon has weakened. But they have the advantage of cover. Major, sir, I…"

Andar glanced at the young man. "What is it, Vice-captain Gerac?"

"…it is nothing, major."

Andar knew what the young man was thinking, had seen it himself. It was a stalemate. That damnable fireburst had closed several avenues he'd been pursuing in one miserable explosion. Unless a miracle happened, they would lose half the company before they could claim victory.

And that was not a victory at all.

"Major!" came a call. "They have reinforcements!"

Andar nodded. "Pull the men back to the stone pillars."

"…sir?"

"Do it, vice-captain."

"Sir!"

The other's reluctance was understandable. They had lost men gaining the ground between their current post and the formation of stone pillars behind them. The other side had lost more, grown too fat and slow catching robbers and standing around city streets instead of marching to battle.

It was the only reason most of his men were still alive.

He remembered hearing of Captain Zises Toren, who after leaving the army was given the honor of being able to create a security force in this area under the provincial governor.

The Gamber Blades.

He had not wanted to believe the boy Defi, thought the mark on the weapons he had brought back a fluke or a plot. Even the public security forces can have their weapons stolen by bandits after all.

He had prepared to face bandits like they were soldiers, even then.

He had not expected to face the actual security force. There were always stories of security forces doing black business. He had always listened with a cynical ear. What was the difference, after all, from the noblemen's guardsmen, who he knew definitely conducted black business.

The Gamber Blades numbered four hundred people, that was already two companies in the military. Captain Zises Toren had done well for herself.

But even if the Gamber Blades were here, he had not expected to see the captain herself conducting what was undeniably an underground operation.

Heroes, he mused, when met in person, always fell short of the mark.

He could not deny that he felt an uncomfortable emotion in his chest, a persistent ache. This was the woman his brother said had led twenty soldiers to slip past the cordon at Darnafall Pass and rescue three hundred prisoners from the slavecamps of Haerdelos?

Brother, I am sorry, he thought regretfully. What must you think, looking at this tableau? Your foolish younger brother in fatal opposition to the hero that had saved your life, what an epilogue to your tale of fine heroics.

With the towering figure from his brother's stories before him, that he still had most of his men was a notch short of a miracle.

And now, the blessing of that almost miracle had ended.

His hand clenched tightly on his sword, glaring at the cliff opposing them.

"Sir!"

He inhaled sharply. He did not need a report to see that the massive cliff was sliding down, falling apart.

His eyes closed, then opened with a fire that burned bright and fierce.

His voice thundered.

"Hold your positions!"

Brother, was this miracle your doing?

**

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Hi, this is Jin Daoran. If you see this work on other sites, know that I post exclusively on Webnovel. If you like the story, please support the author by voting for the book on webnovel.com.