The campfire crackled, sending orange sparks dancing into the obsidian sky of the Arorikund Valley. For Blop, the sensation was transformative. He had spent his existence in the damp, cold shadows of the forest floor, but now, the radiant heat of the flames touched his skin. It was more than just a physical temperature; it felt like a soft weight, a comfort he had never known.
His gaze drifted to the prisoner. She lay slumped, the flickering light playing across the heavy iron mask that obscured her face. Quietly, his movements fluid and unsettlingly silent, Blop approached. With a metallic clink, he removed the thick iron mask.
He froze. He had never seen a person like this. Her ears were long, tapering into sharp points that peaked above her silver-white hair. They were much longer than the ears of the bandits he had devoured. On her right cheek, a jagged scar stood out in stark relief, trailing down toward a faint, glowing mark on her neck—a royal crest.
What is she? Blop wondered. He didn't wake her. He retreated to the other side of the fire, sitting under the vast moonlight. He looked down at his own hands. They were a pale, translucent green—a "Glitch" in the visual fabric of the world.
He began to focus. He wanted to look like her. He commanded his biology to shift, pulling from his internal Biological Energy. His skin rippled, the green pigment receding into a matte, human-like tan. He concentrated on his ears, forcing the cartilage to lengthen and sharpen. But his body rebelled.
A sharp, agonizing throb pulsed through his skull. In the previous fight, the D-Rank Hunter had landed several critical hits on his head. Those internal wounds hadn't healed, and he had spent too much energy on the transformation. Dizziness swamped him. The world tilted, the trees spinning into a blur of static. Without a word, Blop collapsed into the dirt, his system shutting down into a forced hibernation to repair the damage.
Blop woke to the crisp, freezing air of dawn. For the first time, he felt "refreshed"—a strange, buoyant energy in his limbs. But as his eyes snapped open, his internal alarm bells rang.
The fire was a pile of grey ash. The chains near the tree lay empty, discarded like a snake's skin.
He scanned the clearing, his heart—or the organ that functioned like one—thudding. The prisoner was gone. He stood up, his gaze darting toward the treeline, but before he could take a step, a sharp, metallic snap echoed from the shadows behind him.
"Don't move! Or I will put a shaft through your throat."
Blop froze. He turned his head slowly. Ten paces away, perched on a mossy branch, was the girl. She held a bandit's recurve bow, the string pulled back so far the wood groaned. The arrowhead was aimed precisely at the base of his skull.
She escaped, Blop thought, dumbfounded. How?
June's mind, meanwhile, was a storm of cold calculation. She had stayed awake all night, feigning sleep, watching this creature through slit eyes. She had watched it change its skin and ears like a demon. She had waited for the moment its energy failed and it collapsed. Now, she held the power.
"Tell me what you are!" she shouted, her voice rough from dehydration but filled with noble authority.
Blop tried to speak, but his vocal cords were still stiff. "Ag... a... jod..."
June's eyes narrowed. "I know you're not human. I've been watching your chest for an hour. You don't breathe. Nothing living stays that still."
She was terrified. In the Arorikund Valley, creatures like this were harbingers of death. If it wasn't an elf or a human, it was a predator. Without another word, she released the string.
Twang!
The arrow was a blur of brown. Blop didn't think; his body simply reacted. He threw himself into a tight roll, the arrow whistling through the space where his chest had been a millisecond before.
June didn't stop. She was a master of the bow, her skillful lineage showing in every movement. She fired three more shots in rapid succession—Twang! Twang! Twang!
Blop was in a desperate dance for survival.
Each shot was precise, aimed not just at him, but at the spots where he tried to dodge. He felt the wind of the arrows grazing his skin. I can't get hit, he realized. (If I bleed now, I won't have the energy to knit the flesh. I'll die here.
He saw his chance.)
As she reached for another arrow, Blop didn't retreat—he lunged. He used his superior leg strength to roll directly under her perch, disappearing from her line of sight. He popped up behind her, his hand moving with a "glitchy" speed to snatch the entire quiver of arrows from the ground where she had dropped them.
He backed away instantly, putting twenty feet of distance between them. He held the arrows in his hand, not as weapons, but as a peace offering.
"I... not... you... hurt," Blop forced the words out. They were broken, sounding like stones grinding together, but the sincerity was there.
June froze, her bow hand shaking slightly.
She stared at him. He had me, she thought. He was behind me. He could have broken my neck, but he chose to take the arrows instead. She stayed in a defensive stance, her mind racing.
"You... you understand me?"
Blop saw her hesitation. Slowly, deliberately, he knelt in the dirt. He placed the arrows on the ground and pushed them toward her with one finger, then raised his palms.
June watched him, her suspicion warring with her logic. She stepped forward, snatched the arrows, and retreated back to a safe distance.
"If you move toward me, I'll kill you on the spot," she hissed.
Blop remained still. He raised a hand and pointed a finger firmly at his own chest.
"Blop," he said.
June blinked. "Blop? Is that your name?"
Blop nodded eagerly, his head bobbing up and down. "Blop."
June stared at him, a flicker of dark humor crossing her mind despite the danger. (Blop? What kind of ridiculous name is that? It sounds like a dog's name... or something a child would call a pet slime.) She let out a long, shaky sigh and lowered the bow, though she didn't unstring it.
"I am June. From the Elven Kingdom."
Blop processed the sounds. "June," he repeated. He pointed at her. "June."
"Yes,"
she said, her expression returning to a stern, noble mask. "Now... what creature are you? You have the skin of a human, the ears of my people, but the soul of something else."
Blop simply tilted his head, unable to explain .
June looked around at the towering, dark trees. She was a high-skill archer, but she was injured and alone in the most dangerous valley in the world. To reach the Elven Kingdom would take months of travel through monster-infested territory. Even at her full speed, she wouldn't survive a week alone.
She looked at the "monster" named Blop. He was strong. He was fast. And for some reason, he had saved her life twice—once from the bandits, and once from his own hunger.
"I am going to Narier City," June said, watching his reaction. "It is the closest settlement. It will take weeks to reach it on foot."
Blop's eyes widened. Narier City. He had no idea what a "city" was, but the way she said it made it sound like a place where he could find answers. He had never been outside this patch of forest. The idea of "Going Out" made his heart race.
"Wanna come with me?" June asked, the words feeling strange in her mouth.
Blop's face lit up with a terrifyingly wide, genuine grin. He nodded so hard his neck made a loud crack.
"Fine," June said, her voice regaining its command. "But listen to me: No harm. If you show your teeth to a human or an elf, the deal is off. Understood?"
Blop nodded again, holding out his hand for a shake—a gesture he had seen the bandits do when they agreed on something. June looked at the pale green hand. With a silent prayer to her ancestors, she took it.
"Carry this," she ordered, handing him a heavy sack of gold and supplies from the bandit camp. "It's heavy, and we need to move. The 'Silver Hawk's' men will be looking for this gold soon."
Blop hoisted the sack over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. He followed her as she began to move through the brush, her movements graceful and silent.
As they stepped into the morning fog, leaving the camp behind, Blop realized his life had truly changed. He wasn't just a monster in a cave anymore. He was a traveler. He was a companion.
And the road to Narier had just begun