Monotony. Sleep deprivation. A lack of proper food. And the constant, gnawing tension of danger lurking just beyond sight. After a few days of trekking through the wilds, those things had started to mess with my head — grinding away at my sanity until my thoughts turned... questionable. Most of them I could still shove aside. But not all.
"What do you think, Rimuru?" I asked the Anemo Slime perched on my shoulder. He watched the world around us with the dead-eyed indifference of someone who'd long stopped caring.
"Yeah," I nodded as he gave a single, sluggish bubble in response. "That's what I figured."
I'd stumbled across this little marvel of nature near the end of the second day. Originally, I was just looking for a decent place to set up camp. I'd just started laying things out when I heard a sound I'd come to recognize far too well: Hilichurl howls. Naturally, I wasn't about to let that slide — not when it was happening practically right next to me.
What I found was Teyvat's wilderness in all its raw, chaotic glory. A group of Hilichurls were locked in a brawl with a bunch of slimes — and surprisingly, they were holding their own. I had no idea what started the skirmish, nor did I particularly care. Free experience is free experience. Plus, they were too close to my camp for comfort. I figured a little preemptive massacre would solve both problems.
The memory brought a bitter smirk to my lips. Funny how fast any lingering compassion I had just... evaporated. I used to see myself as a decent guy. Now? I didn't even flinch at the idea of wiping out living creatures. And this wasn't the same as butchering livestock — Hilichurls might be primitive, but there's a spark of intelligence in them. Or maybe that's just what the system wanted me to believe. Either way, I wasn't sure anymore if it was the game's influence — or if I was just starting to lose it.
Still, none of that had mattered in the moment. With the element of surprise and a clear advantage in power, it wasn't a hard fight. Once the dust settled, the only thing left moving among the corpses was a lone little Anemo Slime, half-hidden in the tall grass, watching me with cautious curiosity. Unlike the Hilichurls, he made no move to attack. But he didn't run either.
And seeing that, I did something most people would call insane — and they'd probably be right.
He was soft. To the touch, the elemental slime felt like a balloon made of memory foam — smooth, dense, and strangely satisfying. The little guy stiffened at first, clearly startled by my sudden affection. But then, slowly, he leaned forward, offering a tentative nudge in return. No aggression. No fear. Just… acceptance.
A weird little creature. But oddly endearing.
After scooping up the synthesis points from the Hilichurls, I returned to camp in much better spirits. What I hadn't accounted for was the slime following me. I didn't even notice the clingy bastard until I'd finished setting up and was already roasting mushrooms I'd gathered along the trail over a crackling fire. Credit where it's due — if not for the observational skill I'd somehow awakened during the journey, I might've grabbed a bunch of poisonous fungi instead of the edible kind.
So yeah — thank you, random survival instinct.
But back to our slimey little stowaway.
Somehow, the sneaky little guy had managed to tail me all the way back to camp without making a single peep — at least not until I sat down to enjoy my so-called culinary masterpieces. I'd barely swallowed the first bite and was just lifting the second to my mouth when I felt a light nudge against my elbow. Confused, I turned to see what it was — only to be met with the wide-eyed stare of one very bold, very persistent creature.
He blinked. Twice. Like some kind of walking anime emote. Then, without hesitation, he nudged my elbow again.
Long story short? The little slime ended up eating nearly half my dinner. And after letting out a loud, satisfied hiccup (curse this anime-ass biology), he flopped down across my lap and passed out like he owned the place.
And just like that, I had myself a new travel companion. I didn't even bother naming him until the next day — and sure, I could've been a bit more original, but honestly, who's keeping score?
Anyway, let's talk about something a little more important. Three days into my journey, aside from covering a solid chunk of terrain, I finally managed to figure something out about the system tied to me. First lesson? I'm an idiot.
Turns out, you don't have to pump stat points into your attributes to level them up. You can also raise them the old-fashioned way — through actual physical effort. Yeah. Who would've guessed?
I only noticed because I got a notification telling me my stamina had increased by one point after a particularly brutal stretch of hiking. That prompted some late-night overthinking, and I tested the theory the next day after another long march.
[Stamina increased +1]
"So, you can level up stats like this..." I muttered under my breath, already reassessing everything I thought I knew.
That little discovery changed the game for me. It meant I didn't have to waste precious upgrade points on short-term gains. I could grind stats manually if I was patient enough. Still, I couldn't help but feel a bit bitter about the points I'd already spent. Sure, they were necessary — Teyvat isn't exactly a vacation spot for lost travelers — but every scrap of power matters when your life's constantly hanging by a thread.
So, while I've got the time and energy, I might as well squeeze every drop of progress I can out of this body. Because if I don't... well, it won't be long before Teyvat spits me out like yesterday's leftovers.
***
"Whoa... that's massive," I whistled, eyes fixed on the city rising above the hill.
Mondstadt was nothing like its in-game counterpart. Not even close. Even from this distance, I could see the sheer scale of it — an actual city, grand and imposing, exactly how a capital of a medieval fantasy kingdom should look. Especially one ruled by a god.
Still, despite my excitement at finally being this close to my destination, the road ahead wasn't going to be easy. It wasn't the distance that worried me — it was the path. The only route to the city cut straight through a forest. A thick, overgrown, ominous hellscape of a forest. Full not just of wild animals, but of all kinds of dangerous creatures better left unnamed.
To say I was uneasy would be an understatement. But I didn't have a choice. With a deep breath, I mentally crossed my fingers, instinctively gave Rimuru a comforting pat on the head as he sat perched on my shoulder, and pushed forward.
The deeper I went, the louder the forest became — a chaotic mix of rustling, screeching, and distant growls that painted vivid warnings in my tired mind. I moved slowly, carefully watching the road ahead. I'd heard too many stories about Hilichurl ambushes to let my guard down.
And wouldn't you know it — the first group didn't keep me waiting.
Four Hilichurls. Same tribal look, but something was different. They were a bit bulkier than the ones I'd faced before, and each of them was gripping a heavy wooden club. A quick glance at the floating nameplates confirmed my suspicion — they were higher level.
Great. Just what I needed.
I'd only just started to get the hang of spear combat over the last few days. I was far from a master, but I'd gotten to the point where I could at least put on a decent show. Honestly, it was kind of wild how fast I was progressing. System-assisted growth had its perks — too many perks, really. And that alone was enough to worry me.
Nothing comes for free. Especially not here.
The fight broke out fast. Faster than I expected. These forest-dwelling Hilichurls weren't just stronger — they were faster too. I'd gone in expecting the usual lumbering thugs and nearly ate a club to the skull for my trouble.
Thank the Archons for my high Agility stat — and for Rimuru. With a burst of wind, he deflected the blow just enough to let me duck out of the way unscathed.
"Thanks, buddy," I muttered, backing off and sliding into a loose battle stance.
With the reach of my spear and Rimuru covering me, I managed to take out the first two fairly quickly. The other pair took a bit more effort, but I got it done.
[Spear Proficiency increased]
[Level Up]
[Gained 12 EXP]
Immediately, my ever-so-helpful system bombarded me with notifications, but I decided to deal with those once I was safely out of this damned forest. Right now, I had far bigger problems than sorting through pop-up logs. Shaking the blood off my spear and straining my ears again, I let out an irritated sigh. The distant howl of wolves had joined the cacophony, doing absolutely nothing to brighten my already foul mood. Wolves might usually steer clear of people, but who knew what kind of beasts roamed these woods?
Using the compass embedded in my map to get my bearings, I quickened my pace, determined to avoid any unnecessary fights. I had zero interest in spending the night here, and there'd be plenty of battles waiting for me later anyway.
Unfortunately, avoiding conflict wasn't always possible. Trying to slip past a group of Pyro slimes, I stumbled right into a Whopperflower — a local plant that turned out to be a lot less friendly than advertised. I realized just how unfriendly the moment a vine silently wrapped itself around my ankle and yanked me off balance. I lost my grip on the spear and twisted desperately mid-fall, my eyes widening in horror as I hurtled straight toward the jaws of another carnivorous mutant.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!"