Back at the house garden, Piers finally let out the breath he'd been holding. His violet-black hair caught the morning sun as he ruffled it, looking every bit the tired child he wasn't.
"What a hassle I've dragged myself into,"
he muttered, staring down at the blue slime.
It wriggled softly in his arms, letting out a happy, bubbling
"Syuu."
Piers arched a brow.
"Well, whatever. First things first—let's get Mom's permission to keep you, little guy."
…Somehow, that felt like the most dangerous quest of all.
As Piers reached for the door, it swung open before his hand touched it.
Styx stood there, fully geared—boots laced, short sword strapped across her back. Behind her, Rigas adjusted a pouch at his belt, his expression unusually serious.
From deeper inside the house, Xylia's warm-yet-stern voice carried out:
"Be safe!"
Piers blinked, tilting his head. Huh. Are they heading out on an adventure or something?
"Where are you two going?" he asked.
Before either could answer, Styx's eyes locked onto the squirmy blob in his hands.
"Oh, what's that?" Her voice was half‑wonder, half‑glee.
Piers lifted it like a weird trophy.
"It's a slime. I think."
The blue creature gave a nervous wiggle. "Syuu."
Styx leaned closer, eyes sparkling, while rigas crouched beside Piers. He glanced around like a spy checking for assassins, then lowered his voice.
"You know you've gotta ask Mom first, right, son? She's… very particular about new houseguests."
A bead of nervous sweat slid down his cheek.
Piers gave him a flat look far beyond his years.
"Yeah, Dad. I know. I can handle it."
"Where are you going, anyway?" Piers repeated, eyes narrowing slightly.
Before Rigas could answer—
The air shifted. A quiet footstep. Pressure.
Xylia appeared, violet-obsidian eyes sharp as they cut across the doorway.
"…What's going on here?" she asked, calm, but with that motherly edge that demanded answers.
"Nothing, dear! Just—just Piers found something, and he wanted to… uh… ask your permission to keep it," Rigas stammered, shifting like a man on trial.
"Mm-hm." Her tone left no room for debate. With a single brush past her husband and daughter, she took command of the space.
"Alright then, you two—don't block the doorway," she chided gently.
"Let me see him."
Kneeling before Piers, her long dark hair brushed the floor as her sharp gaze softened. Her eyes flickered between suspicion and a rare, gentle curiosity as they landed on the tiny creature squirming in her son's hands.
"Oooh… a slime," she murmured.
"Honey… where did you find this?"
"Right by your flower garden!" Piers said proudly, lifting the slime a little higher like he was presenting some royal treasure.
"Can I keep it?"
Xylia's eyes narrowed.
"…The flower garden?"
she repeated slowly, her voice cool as her head turned toward Rigas. A faint, dangerous edge crept into her tone.
"Darling. You are checking the barrier regularly, aren't you?"
A vein pulsed at her temple.
Rigas snapped upright like a soldier before a general.
"Y-y-yes! Of course! Daily! Even—uh—sometimes hourly!"
The tension hung heavy… then eased.
"So, Mama, can I keep it?"
Piers pressed again, widening his eyes into his deadliest weapon. The slime wriggled in his hands, letting out a pitiful "Syuu," like it was in on the act.
Xylia looked from blob to boy, her nose wrinkling delicately.
"Hmm… It's squishy," she muttered.
"And you know I don't prefer squishy things in the house."
She sighed, folding her arms. Then, helplessly, a small smile tugged at her lips.
"But… if you ask like that, how can I refuse?"
"B-but Mooom!" Styx instantly whined, stomping one boot.
"You didn't let me keep the monster crown I made, and now you're letting Piers keep a whole monster? That's so unfair!"
Her arms crossed tight as she glared at her brother.
Xylia's head turned sharply toward Styx, her smile soft but dangerously sweet.
"Sweetheart, if it's not made of dead things, you can keep it too."
Styx froze, as if hit by a paralyze spell. She stepped back with an awkward squeak, her arms falling limply to her sides.
"Y-yes, Mama!"
Piers chuckled under his breath. Rigas added a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck.
Xylia stood, tightening her apron. Her gaze softened back into calm warmth as she looked down at her son.
"Alright then, dear. Promise me you'll take care of it."
"Yes, Mama, I promise!" Piers said proudly, holding the slime like it was made of crystal.
She really can't say no, Guess this face is my ultimate weapon.
Behind her, Rigas cleared his throat.
"Well then, time for Styx and me to head out, right Styx?"
Styx, eager to move on, perked right up.
"Yes, Papa! Let's go to the base!" she giggled, already bouncing down the path.
Piers squinted. "Ohh, so they're going to the base? Probably training, huh,"
Xylia's head swiveled toward him, eyes narrowing like a hawk spotting prey.
"…Hmm? What base?"
"Rigas's smile twitched as sweat bullets rolled down his face."
"She meant… the base! Y-you know! The, uh… village base! Where we train villagers. Sword drills. Safety tips. Totally normal!"
He nodded way too fast, like a puppet yanked on strings.
Piers stared. …He sucks at lying.
Xylia leaned in, her violet-obsidian eyes narrowing—sharp, piercing, merciless.
The weight of her stare was like a guillotine hovering right over his neck.
Rigas stiffened, his throat working nervously. His eyes darted anywhere but her face.
"T-totally normal… yep…"
Before Xylia could press further, Piers's voice cut through—pulling her attention away from his cornered dad.
"Okay. I'm gonna give him a name now," he declared suddenly, holding up the blue slime like a prize.
"Shyuu!"
The slime wobbled and let out a shy little, "Syuu~," as if sealing the deal.
And then—it began to glow.
A faint light spread across its body like soft moonlight, lifting it gently into the air.
"Shyuuuu~!" it squealed, bright and happy.
CRAP, CRAP, CRAP! Piers's mind screamed.
I forgot about the naming evolution! Please don't change! Please don't grow fangs or sprout wings—eyes flicking nervously toward his mom. What will she do if it mutates in front of her?!
Xylia, Rigas, and Styx all stared, wide-eyed, watching the glow intensify.
Then… just as suddenly, it faded. The slime plopped softly back into Piers's arms. Nothing happened.
"Phewww…" Piers let out a long, relieved breath.
Xylia leaned closer, brows furrowing slightly.
Quack—! Piers stiffened.
She's suspicious already?!
"Ooh… there's some kind of mark on his forehead," she murmured.
"Oh. She's just checking." He forced a grin.
"Cute, right, Mom?"
Xylia blinked once—then smiled, soft and fond. "Yeah, honey. He sure is."
"Styx, let's go now!" Rigas blurted, panic bursting in his voice. He scooped Styx up like a squirming sack of potatoes, one hand clapped over her mouth.
"BYE!"
SLAM.
GONE..
Xylia stared after them for a beat, then exhaled—like clearing smoke from the air.
With a decisive nod, she turned toward the kitchen.
"Alright. Today's a free day. I'm going to try some new recipes—triple fermentation, four kneads, and one secret mom touch."
Want me to make you something?" she called.
"Nope! I'm gonna play in my room with Shyuu!" Piers called, already halfway up the stairs, hugging his slime like a prized treasure.
"Okay, love! Call me if you're hungry!"
"Got it!"
And just like that, he vanished into his room—
a tiny blur of excitement clutching a slime, ready for whatever chaos he'd create next.
* * *