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The Slime Farmer

Desislaf Rimet finds that his father plotted to make him fail the Sacred Trials. He decides: if this world will not accept him, then he will leave the world! In another world full of wonders, moving forward determinedly, he becomes a farmer of slimes. *** Desislaf Rimet is the eleventh son of the Lord of Rimet, the sixteenth child. He has failed the Trials that would make his family proud and cement his station as a noble worthy of his family's name. He discovers that his father plotted to deliberately make him fail and it is the end of all he knows. He cannot be happy in his father's court, and leaves. After all, there's a World Gate conveniently in his father's territory, isn't there? He will leave to see the wonders that await him in another world! Only...the world beyond is more complicated than he imagined. Also, what is this slime? An animal, a vegetable, or some mystery being? *****

Jin_Daoran · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
132 Chs

A Lake is Not a Constrained Sea

Turq somehow understood his need to be alone, and so they were floating in the middle of the lake. The Lowpool was large enough that the closest shore was nothing more than haze on the horizon. The few fishing vessels that sailed past did not bother them, perhaps detecting the cloud of melancholy looming about Defi's location.

He had killed before, seen his arrows and his spears strike with deadly intent, seen blood spreading from the corpses, and felt only satisfaction and joy in the act.

But never another human being.

This had been no hunt, gave him none of the usual accomplishment and enthusiastic energy. There was only revulsion, after the fleeting feeling of triumph.

Why was it different?

The school of the Grass Sage said there was no difference between killing animals and killing humans, that each brought the same retribution on a soul.

He could see why the school attracted its polarizing reputation. One side may have said: how could it be the same, when it feels so different? The other would go: if this is what it feels like, to take a life – then all life is sacred and must be protected.

The warriors of Ontrea, trained from a young age, would find the first side more in harmony with their teachings and beliefs. But the noble warriors were also trained to be priests, and therefore the second side would be considered with great thought. The warrior-priest caste of Ontrea were leaders of the people, and therefore more efficiently followed the practical and political school of the Red River almost to exclusion. The philosophies of the Grass Sage were left to academics and administrators.

His stomach growled.

He didn't feel like going back to the town. Should he go to Sarel's homestead?

He shook his head. It was not her obligation to feed him. Not to mention, he'd forgotten he needed to show up at the homestead and Falie's farm for work.

Just this day…

He would take this day for himself and work harder tomorrow.

He sat up on Turq's back. There were farms on the far side of the lake from the town, weren't there? Someone would surely sell him fruit.

"Turq, let's go that way."

The slime started moving. Ever since it ate the seakrait, Defi had noticed it was understanding him better. The summon bond between them was growing, according to the few passages on summoning that Erlaen had read to him. But slimes were notoriously untrainable. Nothing in the books said slimes were able to devour larger animals either. Possibly it was a trait a small subset instead of a general ability of the species? Was it possible that subsuming creatures might stimulate greater sentience in slimes?

There was no way. Nature did not work in that manner, did it? He smiled at the thought, self-deprecating. He'd long since found that nature in Ascharon worked somewhat differently than what he was used to.

Besides, Turq was infinitely more awesome than its owner. The possibility that Turq was a rare slime was not null. But the most logical explanation was, former slime summoners did not want this ability published. Defeating a seakrait in a single gulp was an incredible thing after all.

He heard the sound of a bell. Were they close to shore already?

A boat was zipping toward them in a speed that was impossible to achieve considering that the boat had no mast or sail. Defi watched curiously. He'd never seen the like. The boat was long and narrow, with a canopy over its deck. As it passed them by he saw that people were seated under the canopy. He waved.

A passenger boat.

His interest was engaged. It was so fast. He made a note to ask someone about it.

"Turq, there's a pier over there."

It looked old, but the sturdiness was evident. Defi jumped onto the discolored wood. It appeared little used.

"Oh? You are Defi, aren't you?"

He whipped around to face the speaker. A man was standing in the trees, looking at him apprehensively. He had long brown hair and a thin face. There was a large wood-framed travel pack at his feet, open and with part of its contents neatly stacked beside it.

"You are the mystic plant researcher." Defi placed him after a moment's wary scrutiny. "Good afternoon," he greeted politely.

"Yes, hello. I prefer Kern, in fact." They stared at each other for a moment, unknowing what to say. The man laughed briefly at the awkwardness. "I don't suppose you could not let on that you saw me today?"

"Of course. Your business is your own." Defi looked back toward the lake. "I would ask, the boat without sails…is it common on the lake?"

"The ferry. There is only one. It's for transporting farmers between town and the northeast farms." The man knelt once more to reorganizing his travel pack. "Mayor Sorza had glyphmasters and boatbuilders here for a whole year making it, according to the stories. It was some decades ago, but the ferry is as effective as ever."

"Are there many farms in the northeast?"

"Oh yes. Apart from the area around the town, it's the biggest piece of arable land on the lake. The Lowpool is contained by a ring of mountains, you see, and viable farmland on its shores is sparse. Unless the town is willing to forge a way up one of the cliffs and brave the mountains to build a settlement."

"They're not?" Nobles in Ontrea enthusiastically sponsored villages in order to increase their trade. Though with the isolated nature of the Lowpool, possibly a village was not as lucrative?

"It's been proposed more than once. Fruit orchards are commonly productive in mountainous areas. But apart from the cost of blasting a way up the cliffs, and building structures to support the first wave of settlers, there is the fact that few young couples would choose a life of such isolation. The town is large enough to give them a taste of what they'll lose if they move to a village settlement." Kern frowned at his travel pack. "I may have taken too much."

"Are you traveling?"

Kern paused, a basket in his hands. "Do you mind if I feed your slimes this? They're herbs, nothing harmful."

Defi took the basket from him, not minding that the other evaded his question but growing curious.

The man sat on the edge of the pier, feet dangling over the water, as Defi tossed herbs to Turq and Jar. "What are their names again?"

"The bluer one is Turquoise, the greener one is Jasper. Turq and Jar, in short."

Kern smiled at the two. "Thank you, Turk and Jar."

At Defi's curious look, he laughed.

"I was at the docks when the seakraits attacked," he said. "Six of them, or was it seven? Some terrifying number, and only Natan and Emra braved the water to confront them. I thought I was going to die. Then Turq swallowed one, and Jar another. Of all the seakraits, they got three. They really saved us that day. I'm very grateful."

"Turq and Jar are awesome, as always" agreed Defi. Which of them got the third seakrait? He eyed the two slimes. Why was he even asking? It was Turq, of course, the glutton.

The man laughed again. Then he sobered, a smile faint on his features. "Do you know why the smuggler Derwain wanted to make the town his stronghold?"

"There is no way I would know that."

"I was one of those who went through the caravan they used to infiltrate the town. According to the data, there is a path from the Lowpool to the headwaters of the Fergaur. It's a river," he clarified. "runs down to Albcasso Cove, on the eastern coast, one of the great ports of the Empire."

If Defi remembered correctly, the mountain range the Lowpool was situated in separated the eastern coastal lands from the rest of the mainland empire. "A smuggler with a secret overland route from the great river to the eastern coast…"

"The thought is horrifying," agreed Kern. "I have those papers with me."

"You...want to travel using a smuggler's map?" Surely not?

"Few people know of it, and it is unused as long as the Lowpool does not develop it. The only concern is the monsters, and I am stronger than I look."

"You know your strengths," Defi said, bewildered at the earnest look Kern was sending him. Like the man thought Defi was going to stop him. "But why are you telling me this?"

"I want you to give a letter to Leraine."

His wife? Defi waited but Kern said nothing more. Ah…just that? "I see no problem with complying…"

"Thank you," Kern looked relieved, pulled a folded piece of paper from the inner pocket of his coat. "My mind is eased that you say so."

The man's expression seemed too relieved for it to be a simple matter, but still. Defi put down the basket and took the letter. He carefully tucked it into his belt. It was a simple delivery. His suspicions were no reason to refuse, were they?

"Did you come to this side of the lake for anything specific? Did Sarel perhaps need herbs?" Kern looked troubled as he asked the second question.

"No, though I'll be sure to tell her you are unavailable for the future. Could you direct me to –"

His question was interrupted when the two slimes floating near them glowed brightly.

Oh, this was familiar, wasn't it?

Sure enough, when the two stopped shining, there were four slimes hopping onto the pier. The two new ones were distinct at first glance. Jar's splitting was also green, but of a shade with stripes of darker green and lighter green circling its body. Turq's splitting was all shades of blue, the light blue of the summer sky.

Or the pale blue of a seakrait, thought Defi.

"You've returned to normal size too." Defi knelt to take all four into his arms. Turq bounced into his usual position on Defi's head. He smiled at the familiar weight.

"Amazing." Kern watched the four, fascinated. "It's not often you see something like this, even in slimes that are known to reproduce quickly. I'm happy to have seen it. Thank you, Defi."

"It's not something I could control," Defi refuted. "I should ask, those herbs…they weren't mystic herbs?"

Kern laughed. "No, still failures. But their vitality is greater than the average, however common they are."

Defi nodded, making a note of it.

His stomach growled.

Kern stifled another laugh. "You came here to look for food?"

Defi refused to feel embarrassed. "I did."

"Then, just follow this path. You'll come across the farmer warehouses soon enough. It's mid-afternoon, so they'll be gathering there. Just ask anyone for help. If they trouble you, tell them I directed you there."

**

Chapter End

**

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Notes:

The school of the Grass Sage – a school of thought in Ontrea, heavily weighted toward respect for life and nature

The school of the Red River – a school of thought in Ontrea, geared toward political, military, and socioeconomic philosophy