Eldren Splurge comes

Lafran wiped the sweat from his brow as he stepped out of the pasture. 

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the fields. 

The cows, now bandaged and resting, would recover, but their injuries had taken a toll on him. He trudged back to the small cave that had become his temporary refuge, each step heavy with exhaustion.

Inside the cave, Corora, a young female goat, lay on a makeshift bed of hay and blankets, her breathing shallow but steady. 

Lafran approached her quietly, not wanting to disturb her rest. He knelt beside her, gently checking her pulse and the bandages he had wrapped around her earlier. 

Satisfied that she was stable, he settled down next to her, leaning against the cool cave wall.

Just as he began to relax, his eyes scanned the dim interior of the cave, and he noticed something was off. 

Whitegale, the donkey, their faithful companion, was nowhere to be seen.

"Whitegale?" Lafran called softly, his voice barely above a whisper, so as not to wake Corora. He rose to his feet and carefully searched the cave, his brow furrowing with concern. There was no sign of the animal. "Where could it have gone?"

He stepped outside, the chill of the night air making him shiver. 

The donkey was a creature of habit, rarely straying far from the cave, and when he went back. 

Lafran's eyes adjusted to the darkness, and then he saw it – a small bundle left just near the entrance.

"Huh?" 

He knelt beside the bundle, curiosity piqued. 

Inside, he found a jug of milk, a loaf of bread, an oil and a thing to use to light a fire, and the lost striking thing was a massive black knife. 

The knife caught his attention immediately, its blade gleaming ominously in the moonlight. 

It was a tool specifically designed to kill Eldren Splurge, the black slimes that infested the area and but doesn't pose a significant threat to the village livestock.

"Why did the donkey leave this behind?" 

Lafran muttered to himself, his mind racing. He picked up the knife, its weight familiar in his hand. Then, a realization struck him, freezing him in place. 

Tonight was the night the village elders turned off the incense spell, allowing the Eldren Splurge to roam freely and cleanse the animals. 

It was a necessary but dangerous practice; while the creatures were harmless to livestock, their touch could burn human skin.

"Did my father want me to prepare as an exercise for the Adolescence Ceremony by surviving these Splurge creatures?" 

Lafran's thoughts spiraled as he pieced together the clues. 

The donkey, usually so reliable, had left supplies and this knife behind, a clear signal from his father. He never experienced this and has only heard this, so maybe his father wanted him to taste a little of the true meaning of survival. 

The knife had always been their last resort, a tool of survival when accidents prevented them from returning to the village in time.

When the Donkey left, he concluded the real intent of it. Whitegale wouldn't leave early, unless it was ordered by his father. 

"Ahuh, I see, I see." 

Lafran tightened his grip on the knife, his jaw set with determination. His father had always emphasized the importance of facing challenges head-on, of proving oneself through action rather than words. 

This was his test, his trial by fire.

He took a deep breath, the cool night air filling his lungs. "Alright, Father," he whispered to the wind, "I understand."

With a final glance back at the cave, where Corora lay sleeping, Lafran steeled himself for the night ahead. 

…

As the evening deepened, Lafran sat by the small fire he had built inside the cave, sipping milk from the jug left by Whitegale.

The warmth of the fire did little to ease his growing anxiety. 

Corora, who he believed would show signs of intelligence once she woke up with a level six or above that suggested she could understand and follow his commands like other animals in the tribe, lay only still and unresponsive.

"Hey, Corora," he called softly, hoping for some sign of life. 

"Corona, what is going on? Corora, Corora," He repeated her name while asking, his voice growing more insistent, but the young goat remained motionless. 

Lafran's concern for his little doeling and his situation deepened. Without her help, he felt the problem of the night's challenge will be hard.

He had blocked the entrance with a massive stone, a barrier against the impending threat. Yet, despite this precaution, he could not shake his unease. 

Suddenly, the quiet of the night was suddenly broken by a wet, splurging sound from outside. 

The Eldren Splurge had emerged from their hiding spots beneath the ground.

Lafran swallowed hard, his throat dry with fear. He immediately went for the knife and tightened his grip on it, making his knuckles turn white. 

The sound grew louder, more pronounced, as could feel the creature's shadow moved closer to the cave. He didn't need to look; he knew they were there, lurking just beyond the stone barrier.

With each passing second, his confidence wavered. He could feel the pressure mounting, the weight of his father's expectations to make it through the night felt absurd, but he couldn't do anything about it now.  

The knife in his hand was a lifeline, a symbol of his readiness to face whatever came next.

"Stay calm," he whispered to himself, trying to steady his racing heart. "You've always trained for this. You can do this."

As the splurging sounds intensified, Lafran positioned himself by the entrance, ready to defend against any breach. He could feel the creatures' presence, outside with their uncomfortable wriggling. 

His head began to think with countless strategies and contingencies, for his upcoming battle. 

Suddenly, a dark, viscous substance began seeping through a small gap in the stone barrier. 

Lafran's eyes widened in terror, his breath catching in his throat. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, and his hands trembled slightly as he clutched the knife.

For a moment, he was paralyzed, his mind screaming at him to run, to hide. But he knew that waiting would only bring more harm. Steeling his resolve, he forced his body to move, each step heavy with dread.

His heart pounded in his chest as he approached the gap, the substance now oozing more rapidly into the cave. 

He raised the knife, his muscles tensing with the effort, and brought it down with a swift, determined strike.

The blade pierced the slime, and an eldritch screech filled the air, the sound reverberating through the cave. 

Kiiiiiiiccchh!

The creature writhed and twisted, its form becoming more aggressive and hostile. Lafran gritted his teeth, the fear in his eyes replaced by a fierce determination.

He knew this fight would not be easy. 

The knife was not a direct kill; it required multiple, precise strikes to subdue the Eldren Splurge. 

The knowledge from the old planet Earth guided him, reminding him of the importance of persistence and resilience.

The creature lashed out, its tendrils reaching for him with malevolent intent. 

Lafran dodged to the side, his movements quick and agile despite the terror gripping him. He struck again, the blade sinking into the slime with a sickening squelch. 

Another screech echoed through the cave, the sound grating against his nerves.

Kiiiiiiiccchh!

Lafran's arms ached, each swing of the knife demanding more from his exhausted body. He fought to maintain his focus, his mind racing to predict the creature's movements. 

The Eldren Splurge surged forward, forcing him to retreat a few steps, his back nearly pressing against the cave wall.

With a determined growl, he lunged forward, the knife stabbing into the creature repeatedly. 

The slime recoiled, its form shuddering with each blow. 

Sweat dripped down Lafran's face, mingling with the grime and dirt of the day's struggles. His breathing was ragged, each breath a battle in itself.

The fight dragged on, each moment stretching into an eternity. 

Lafran's strength waned, but he refused to give in. He gripped the knife tighter, his knuckles white with the effort. His muscles screamed in protest, but he pushed through the pain, his resolve unyielding.

The Eldren Splurge lashed out once more, a tendril striking his arm and searing his skin with a burning intensity. 

Lafran cried out in pain, his vision blurring for a moment. But he did not falter. 

"Aarrghh!!"

He raised the knife high, a fierce roar escaping his lips, and brought it down with all his remaining strength.

The blade plunged into the heart of the creature, the impact sending a shockwave through his arm. 

The Eldren Splurge convulsed, its form losing coherence. With one final, ear-piercing screech, the creature collapsed into a formless heap, its malevolent menace slowly dissipating.

Lafran staggered back, his body trembling with exhaustion. He leaned against the cave wall, his breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. 

The knife slipped from his fingers, clattering to the ground.

He had done it. He had faced the Eldren Splurge and emerged victorious. 

The fear that had gripped him was now replaced by a ssense of accomplishment. He glanced over at Corora, still lying motionless, and whispered, "We did it, Corora. I killed one…"

The battle had been long and arduous, but Lafran had proven his worth. He had faced his fears and emerged stronger for it. 

However, he knew this was not the end; there's a lot more outside that will soon come inside. 

If he had trouble getting rid of one, how could he get rid of others more? 

Can he even do it and survive? 

He looked at Corora and looked up at the ceiling of the cave and said, "Father, bad timing." He knew it wasn't his father's fault. Everything was just bad timing. Corora was still unconscious and unable to help him in this dire situation.

Suddenly, he heard a sound like an answered prayer. 

Ding!