Whimpers erupted in the forest, followed by trails of blood as Jeanne and Jack made their journey to the northern edge of the forest. Their goal was to enter another city and lie low. But for the moment they were still dealing with wolves and other monsters.
She was cutting through them with effortless grace, each spear of light a silent, deadly whisper.
Jack however couldn't be seen. He wasn't in her cleavage nor in her palms. No, Jeanne had a special place to store her husband. Her right ankle was swollen and she couldn't run as comfortably, so she used her husband as a foot cushion. More specifically as the insole of her right boot.
"Hey your sweat does not taste that good, lady," Jack muffled from inside her boot.
Each squelching step was a new kind of hell. But he had to admit the warmth from her feet was better than the cold forest ground.
Jeanne just gritted her teeth and pressed her weight down a little harder. It was a silent, efficient punishment for the slug who had desecrated her most sacred space.
[HP: 19/20]
"No way that actually did damage!"
The slime had been talking with his system for most of the journey. Looking at the shop. Apparently it costs 200 HPP to evolve to the next evolution for the weapon-slime tree. So now Jack had to farm another 100 HPP.
Imagine being forced into marriage and not being able to hand hold your own wife. At least he received one title.
[Title: Husband of Jeanne D'Amain.]
Apparently Jeanne knew the vows to bind them for better or for worse by heart. Jack hadn't the faintest idea about marriage but the benefits of being a husband was +2 stats when in presence of Jeanne. This stat boost was negated by:
[Stat boost only applies when the wife is happy.] the system's fine print added.
"Can you smile?"
He was immediately squished again by her step.
Feeling that Jeanne had stopped, he wiggled himself a bit to see the world.
"What the...?"
Jeanne was frozen, her good foot hovering over a patch of suspiciously untrampled snow. Her head was turned, her eyes fixed on the tree line in front of them. The usual morning chorus of birds was gone. Even the wind seemed to be holding its breath.
"Paladins?" he asked.
For some reason Jack couldn't hear anything.
"Snow ogres," she whispered.
Jack had to check with the system.
[Snow Ogre: A monster often mistaken for an avalanche. This pack contains a mother with two cubs. They are very aggressive to anything that steps foot in their territory.]
"Can we go around?" he asked.
Jeanne shook her head. She took him out of her boots and placed him on her shoulder. She couldn't fight alone.
"I can't afford to use too much mana."
He couldn't help but feel a little special.
"The wife doesn't need to fight all the battles," he said with a hint of playful mischief.
But he was a level 2 slime. A slime with a nail in it.
"What's the plan when they appear?" he asked.
"I'm going to throw you at their eyes."
She said that with a straight face. Jack wasn't sure if she was joking or being sadistic.
"And you stab their eyeballs?" Jeanne said, questioning her own idea.
With that, she continued walking, her stride deliberate, her gaze fixed ahead and completely ignoring the arguments of the one who was demoted from husband to makeshift shuriken.
Jack decided he was better off not asking for clarification.
Snow had been falling for the past hour. No sign of any snow ogre. He had started to believe the system was being dramatic for comedic effect, like a game over exaggerating the danger of common rabbits.
Loud footsteps caused the forest floor to tremble.
One shadow fell over them, blotting out the pale afternoon sun.
It was big. Jack couldn't believe how big this mother ogre was: it almost towered over the trees when it stood upright.
[That's a cub.] The system helpfully chimed in.
"What!?"
Noticing his scream, the ogre turned around with its eyes that could fit hundreds of Jacks inside. Then it roared. A deafening roar that sounded like an avalanche starting, close enough to shake the snow from the pine branches overhead.
"Maybe we should come up with a different-"
Jeanne interrupted him and with a flick she sent him flying.
The slime, now a sentient, indignant blue-gray missile, tumbled through the frigid air, hitting the ogre right on its forehead. A tiny thud against a mountain of shaggy smelly white fur.
The beast blinked, its massive head swiveling as if a gnat had just landed on it.
Jack dodged its hands, running like an Attack on Titan protagonist through the massive fur, climbing up and over a crag-like ridge of its brow. He was aiming for the eyes.
"Right eye," he muttered, the words squishing out as he bounced.
He had almost made it across the vast expanse of the creature's forehead when it finally registered him. A colossal, furred finger, bigger than Jack's entire body blocked his path.
"Weapon infusion," he commanded.
His slimy body hardened. The rusty nail inside him dissipated. His head was now a sharp spearhead of solid iron.
Just as the ogre's finger came down to squish him, he jabbed upwards with all his enhanced might.
A tiny hole was drilled into the thick callus of the beast's fingertip.
The ogre howled, not in pain, but in pure, unadulterated shock and annoyance.
Finally Jack reached its eyes. He prepared himself. He gave his all into a leap.
A direct hit in the center of the eyeball.
"Yes!" he screamed.
"Go into its brain! The eyes aren't enough to kill it," Jeanne shouted from the ground.
"What? You want me to do what?"
But before he could formulate a new plan, he was squished into the eyeball. The slime felt as if he was swimming in a mixture of tears and vitreous humor. Like a pointy worm he made his way through the skull.
"Shit where is the brain," Jack mumbled.
His metallic head acted as a drill.
The ogre thrashed, and Jack was tossed around the dark, damp confines of the skull.
[It's tiny.]
His pointy head bumped into something the size of a small fist. That must have been it. Not waiting a second, he plunged into the organ, stabbing it with a pointed iron head he created from slime.
Death took over the beast instantly. The mountain of white fur collapsed with an earth-shaking thud that sent plumes of snow into the air.
Jeanne walked over, still on alert when a small figure burst through the eye socket of the corpse like a champagne cork. He was coated in ocular fluid and bits of ogre brain.
"I think I'm going to be sick."