Uryen forest and Holia city were located in the human kingdom of Rethia. One key aspect of the forest was that it was surrounded by six cities and as much as Lancel wanted to search the entire forest it was far more efficient to wait for the duo at one of the other five cities.
Expecting Jeanne to flee to another continent, he stationed more people to the east.
However Jack and Jeanne were heading north. To Cyros. The last city before entering the Elven Kingdom of Vylara. It had been a few days since the encounter with the ogre and Jack couldn't have wished for a better life.
Being carried around while he had nothing else to do except thinking about min-maxing was nice. Not once has he been an insole for a boot.
"You were wrong," Jack's squeaky voice broke the comfortable silence. He was in her cleavage. A very comfortable spot indeed.
Jeanne kept her gaze forward, her strides eating up the snowy ground beneath her feet. She did not answer him.
"About me being a demon," he clarified, a touch of smugness in his tone.
A few minutes ago when they took a break. Jack had dared Jeanne to use a spell designed to kill demons. A purify spell. She reluctantly chanted the words, expecting him to dissolve.
Instead, his body was cleaned and he was more vibrant blue than gray. The demon-slaying spell had done what a hot bath did.
"Arch demons can hide their aura," she mumbled, a half-hearted argument she didn't even believe in. A tiny huff of vapor escaped her lips. She was sulking.
The priestess had lost her arm. Her belief, if not entirely gone, was on life support. And now, her talking slime husband was being annoying. She'd had a few rough days.
"Usually people apologize to those they had wrongfully tried to kill," Jack continued.
Her shoulders tensed. Jeanne's fingers, hidden inside her pristine gloves, twitched. The urge to smack this piece of blob against the nearest pine tree was so powerful it almost made her stumble.
"Apologize?"
"Apologize?!"
The words exploded from her, sharp and laced with disbelief.
"You desecrated me! Twice!"
His core trembled. He had to admit, the word 'desecrated' did pack more of a punch than he'd anticipated.
"I was healing you that second time," he squeaked.
"You ATE my ARM, you perverse pile of snot!"
She stopped dead, her breath pluming in the icy air. She bent down, her face a mask of cold fury inches from her own cleavage, where he resided.
"I am not okay. I will not be okay for a very long while," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"Next time you decide to touch me. Hand, foot, or any other limb. I will commit mariticide."
She carefully enunciated every syllable of that last word.
"And you'd better believe that's a sin I will confess to, gladly."
Jack gulped. He nodded. Or at least he wobbled in a way that looked like a nod. She gave a final, curt nod of satisfaction, straightened up, and resumed her journey.
From her position she couldn't see the small smile on her husbands face. He was happy that she was more energetic. That was an improvement.
Later, smoke could be seen coming from above the trees. Roads were more frequent which was good. Then they saw Cyros. A massive commercial hub with lots of horse-drawn carriages. The walls were tall and thick. Several paladins were standing guard in front of the main gate.
Jeanne hid behind a tree.
"We can't go through there. They are checking everyone who goes in," she said.
Turning to a different direction, a plan was forming in her head. Every city had a sewer system. However different it was to Holia's, was not a problem since they all followed a similar structure.
"Okay we're going in the sewer again," she said.
The slime hopped off her shirt and landed in a pile of snow.
"Nope. Absolutely not. I'd rather take my chance with the paladins," Jack protested, bouncing a little for emphasis.
Putting her only hand on her forehead, she sighed.
"Are we going to argue about everything?" she asked, her voice dripping with a kind of bone-deep weariness.
"This isn't about arguments. This is about basic slime dignity! I have been in your boot, I've been a tissue, I've been a brain-swimming missile. I will not become a living shit-stain again. My coat is a tasteful blue, not the color of your city's bowels."
He laid down flat on the snow, making snow-angels.
"Also I don't see why we can't just go directly to the elven city,"
His wife shook her head.
Jack's idea on this world was based on his experience and asking the system some questions. It was by all means medieval. So border patrol was practically an old guard in the middle of nowhere reading a newspaper.
"Let's just cross the border illegally," Jack said.
"Sometimes I wish you were actually a slime and couldn't talk," Jeanne exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. The movement was awkward without her other hand to balance it.
"Remember that lightning that almost killed you."
He nodded like a child. Forgetting that lightning was not something he could do.
"Elves are masters at rune crafting. So the moment you cross their territories. Hundreds of those will rain on you. It's called the Veil."
Jeanne said in a tone that made him think of a teacher explaining to a toddler.
He asked his system if that was true.
[Yes. The Elves have evaded the Church's conquest for the past 900 years precisely because they kill any who crosses uninvited.]
"Fine."
The duo sneaked around Cyros' walls trying to find the sewer entrace. And that they did. Paladins were standing in front of it.
"So what's your genius plan now?" Jack whispered.
They were perched on a small hill overlooking the entrance to the sewers of Cyros.
Jeanne's remaining fist clenched.
When Jeanne ran out of plans, Jack came up with the idea to throw him over the wall. He'll find her friend and come back with a sack of gold like he was slime robin-hood. This plan was naturally refused.
Instead Jeanne reluctantly agreed that her husband would distract the paladins with a slime throw, from on top of the wall. That way they'll leave their post.
Maybe this isn't the best plan, he thought.
Standing a hundred meters away from the paladins, next to the stone wall, Jeanne was holding Jack in her fist. She looked down at her blob of a husband with doubt in her eyes.
"What if you throw me over the wall and a bird catches me or something?" he asked.
His squeaky lisp was more pronounced when he was nervous. This entire plan relied on this one-armed non-professional baseball player with religious issues not to miss her mark.
Jeanne grinned. The plan seemed more fun now.
She pulled her arm back, readying the throw. But Jack could hear something. People were running towards the wall, like straight into it from the other side.
"Wait."
Jack shouted as best as a slime can.
"Something's coming."
Just then a woman ran straight through the wall, her ethereal body passing through stone.
A ghost.
But when she went to pass through Jeanne she slammed right into her.
The trio fell to the ground. Jack was sent flying from one pair of boobs to another.