--- Back in Holia City.
After the unlikely duo of monster and priestess escaped, the arch bishop had sent a letter to the Inquisitor General. Inquisitors were the opposite of Paladins. Like patrol officers compared to police detectives. Seeing as what Jeanne did wasn't the most severe heretic act in the world but it still warranted an Inquisitor.
Above Holia's sky, a magnificent white griffin circled. It landed on the catacombs: the birthplace of Jack the slime. The rider was a tall man in an impeccable black uniform; not a stitch out of place. The only color was the golden cross on his back.
His holy sword.
He dismounted, not needing the reins as the Griffin stood with the discipline of a knight. A dozen paladins surrounded him. And they did not move from their stance without permission.
"Inquisitor Lancel," a knight stepped forward.
"Show me what you found."
"Here, your excellency."
The paladin presented a tiny piece of blue slime preserved inside a glass vial.
Examining the small vial, Inquisitor Lancel's fingers tapped the glass, carefully opening the vial, releasing a scent reminiscent of fresh river water, a hint of swamp gas, and a whisper of holy magic residue.
His gauntleted fingers, each joint articulated with the precision of a clockmaker, hovered over the sample.
"An ordinary slime?"
He was mostly talking to himself. Obviously it couldn't be a normal slime; it had to be a demon.
"Fascinating." A rare, thin smile touched Lancel's lips. "Truly fascinating."
Turning to a nearby Paladin, he handed him the sample.
"This needs to be examined by a professional. Where is she?"
All the paladins shuddered at the question. They knew exactly who the Inquisitor was referencing.
"I'm afraid your excellency... she was whisked away by the Adventure Guild."
Lancel's smile vanished. The air grew noticeably colder.
The paladin raised his hands in surrender.
"Your excellency knows how strange those slayers are."
Sighing, Lancel said, "When the Slime Slayer returns tell her to report to me immediately. In the mean time issue a heretic decree. Jeanne D'Amain isn't allowed within any city walls under the church's name."
"Understood, anything else your excellency?"
"Yes... the one who let her escape."
The paladin gulped. "Keith?"
A silent nod was the answer Lancel gave.
"But she overpowered him."
Lancel narrowed his eyes.
"A level 20 overpowering a level 36?"
A beat of silence passed, one filled with the unspoken question of how such a feat was possible.
"Burn him at the stake in two days. That's all."
Without a further word, the Inquisitor climbed back onto his Griffin, his movements as mechanical as the ticking of a clock.
--- Uryen Forest.
Jack was being squished by Jeanne's cold stare and her hand. She seemed to have gained a second wind after her little power nap, her pale skin still clammy, but her eyes were blazing.
She was holding him in practically a headlock for the past 10 minutes without saying anything. Of course he would have broken the silence.
But.
[Handholding points +1.] kept popping up.
It seems it counted as a handholding having his entire body in her hand. A great farming technique came to Jack's mind. He decided to keep quiet.
Her fingers had this special grip that seemed to press right against his slime form.
"You touched my bare hands," she said.
A drop of mud fell off her braid onto Jack.
"Say something demon."
Jack was still not saying anything.
Her other hand moved to poke him in the core, as if trying to see if he was listening. Jeanne let him go. The rain had stopped, but the world was still drenched and shimmering.
With a sudden, fluid movement, she dressed herself. Tears were trying to escape her. She started walking away from him, from the person who violated one of the most sacred rules of her faith.
[Handholding Points: 0 -> 100]
"Wow, 10 points per minute. What about if I..."
Noticing Jeanne walking away, his chest tightened.
"Hey, where are you going?" Jack hopped after her.
"..."
Jeanne didn't even look back. She just kept walking, well limping. Each step a testament to her endurance, and to Jack's rather crude healing attempt.
They walked in silence. With Jack walking behind her as she easily killed a wolf who attempted to ambush her. It died with a clean slice across the throat with a small spear of light. He had to admit her skill was impressive even in her weakened state.
She seemed to be following the stars. He had made plenty of attemps to talk to her about anything but he only got ignored.
After a few hours of excrutiating silence they stopped in a cave. The inside was damp and smelled of wet earth.
"Since I've saved your life," Jack began, deciding to break the silence.
"..."
Jeanne started a fire.
A small spark. She conjured it not with a flint, but with a flick of her wrist, her fingers moving in a gesture that looked too complex for a simple spell.
"An apology is that what you want?" Jack asked.
She didn't answer. Instead she simply stared into the flames with empty eyes. She wanted him to go away. Every second he was here was another reminder of his defilement.
Finally, she spoke, her voice barely audible above the crackle of the fire.
"Is this my punishment?" she asked, looking at the flames as if addressing a god.
"To be stuck with a perverse, talking slug that has no respect for holy doctrine?"
Slug. The word stung.
Jack's slime form quivered, a visible jolt of indignation.
"I'm not the one who tried to incinerate a perfectly innocent reincarnated individual," he retorted, his squeaky voice losing some of its hesitation and gaining a sharpened, accusatory edge.
Jeanne's shoulders tensed.
"Did you only touch my hand to make me mad?" she asked.
She buried her face in her hands, her gloves back on.
"Tell me it wasn't just to gain power,' Jeanne shook her head, "You're probably a wrath demon, you feed on anger."
Jack would have scoffed if he had lungs.
"Wrath? Please. I'm a pragmatist. A utilitarian. I saw an opportunity, and I took it."
He hopped closer to the fire, letting the warmth seep into his gelatinous being.
"Why would that be an opportunity? To touch my bare skin," she emphasized with a shudder.
Jack paused, then admitted with a frankness that was disarming, "I grow stronger by holding hands."
There was no point in mentioning the system or how it exactly worked but convincing her that he wasn't a demon was a better strategy.
Slouching forward, she grabbed him by the core and raised him up again like a kitten.
"Hey, watch the core."
"Demons can't evolve, yet your core resembles that of weapon slimes."
She brought him to the fire. The light revealing a gray-ish hue.
Jeanne's observation hung in the air, a puzzle piece Jack didn't know existed.
"Okay," she said.
"Okay what?"
"From now on you're my husband."