Who Needs Training When You Have Trauma?

Morning greeted us with a chorus of gurgling slimes and the soft crackle of a dying campfire. My back ached from sleeping on ruined stone, and Luffy had somehow rolled into my blanket halfway through the night.

Lyssa, of course, looked flawless. No bedhead, no dark circles, just her usual smug self brushing out her snow-white hair like we weren’t knee-deep in monster slime yesterday.

“Sleep well?” I grunted, stretching.

“Not really. Had a nightmare,” she replied flatly.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You were in it.”

“Charming.”

After some Ego Hygiene (her, not me), we cleaned up our gear and left the broken tower behind. I held the slime loot sack like it was radioactive. It still jiggled. I didn’t ask why. I didn’t want to know.

We thought we were done with the slimes after yesterday, but Lyssa insisted we clear a few more for extra coin—and maybe to blow off some steam.

So, we returned to the outer edge of Tal’Ruun for a quick morning sweep.

Bad idea.

One of the slimes was different. Huge. Oozing violet with veins of pulsing green light, it shimmered like it had devoured an entire rave party. The moment I struck it, the thing split—and then grew.

“Ren, that’s a variant!” Lyssa shouted, already casting a barrier. “Those things regenerate and spit acid!”

“Could’ve mentioned that before I stabbed it!”

Luffy barked, dodging a glob of slime that melted a chunk of ruined wall behind us. Things were spiraling fast. My armor was already sizzling, Lyssa’s mana was almost gone, and I was one bad dodge away from becoming Slime Chow Deluxe.

Then it happened.

A sharp gust of divine wind cut clean through the slime’s core, vaporizing it in a burst of crackling light. The acid stopped mid-launch and fizzled to steam. The entire boss blob burst like an overfilled jelly balloon.

“What the hell—?!” I shouted, eyes scanning the ruins.

Someone had cast that spell. But who?

Lyssa turned toward the treeline immediately, her face pale.

There, just beyond the bushes, a silhouette stood for half a second. Feminine. Familiar. And then—

Gone.

She disappeared into the forest before either of us could move.

Lyssa didn’t say a word.

“Was that…?” I started.

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. Her.”

So the stalker had finally revealed herself—just enough to help, and then vanish again.

But the strangest part?

She saved us.

What a eventful day. It was time to return.

Return to Old Man Velo

We backtracked to town, arriving a little after noon. The guild receptionist—still the ridiculously gorgeous elf girl—was at the front desk again, flipping through papers.

“Welcome back,” she said, flashing a perfect smile. “Oh. You reek of failure and… fermented pudding?”

“It’s the new cologne,” I muttered. “Limited edition. Slime Supreme.”

Lyssa snorted behind me. The elf girl ignored me entirely and leaned toward Lyssa instead. “Glad to see you alive. And still stunning, of course.”

Lyssa’s eye twitched.

I’d never seen someone look so flattered and irritated at the same time.

We turned in our slime cores for a few silver coins—not exactly a windfall, but better than nothing. I used half of it to buy a single cinnamon roll from a street vendor. I would have fought a dragon for two.

Then, we made our way to Old Man Velo’s Forge—the same grumpy geezer who gave us our first gear. The moment we entered, the scent of metal, sweat, and overpriced enchantments hit me in the face.

“Well, if it ain’t the slime-slingin’ greenhorns,” Velo said, arms crossed. “Heard you stirred up the ruins. Must be desperate for better gear, huh?”

“Desperate’s a strong word,” I said.

“He means yes,” Lyssa corrected.

Velo chuckled, then gestured for us to follow him to the back. “Show me what you’ve got.”

We laid out the slime cores and fragments like a loot goblin’s buffet.

He raised an eyebrow at the glittery fragment. “This one’s… weird.”

Lyssa crossed her arms. “That’s cursed, right?”

“Probably,” he said with a shrug. “But cursed items sell high to the right buyer. Especially mages who think being possessed adds ’mystique.’”

He took our materials and gave us a decent trade on upgrades. Lyssa infused the Fire Slime Core into her staff, causing the top to glow faintly red.

“Oooh. Fancy,” I said.

“Now it does actual damage,” she replied. “So when I bonk you, it’ll hurt more.”

“Reassuring.”

My armor was patched, polished, and reinforced with some slime-resistant coating Velo claimed worked “most of the time.”

Luffy, meanwhile, got a new enchanted leather collar with a tiny blue gem that supposedly increased his agility. He tested it immediately by sprinting around the forge, knocking over three buckets and a goblin-sized anvil.

Once we were suited up, Velo sat us down like a stern grandfather preparing to roast his grandkids.

“You’ve got potential, sure,” he said, lighting a pipe. “But potential doesn’t mean squat if you don’t learn how to survive. Slimes are just the start.”

I nodded. “We’re ready to level up.”

He laughed. “That’s what every fool says before they get their head caved in by a kobold with a frying pan.”

“…That happened?”

“Twice.”

He tapped the edge of the forge with his pipe. “You wanna survive, you need battle experience. Not grinding trash mobs. Real fights. Controlled sparring. Team strategy.”

Lyssa raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying we need training arcs?”

“Exactly. And I know just the guy.”

I groaned. “Please don’t be you.”

He stood up. “Nah. I’m too old. You’ll be meeting an old friend of mine just outside town. Goes by Master Grahn. Bit eccentric. Bit bitey. But he trains adventurers the old way.”

“What does ‘the old way’ mean?” I asked.

“Try not to die, and you’ll find out.”

The Feeling Returns

That night, We went home and sat around the campfire. We were ready for tomorrow or as ready as we could be. We felt a presence watching us.

Luffy growled.

Lyssa stopped mid-spell, her eyes narrowing. “She’s close.”

I turned. “Naomi?”

She nodded slowly. “She’s not watching from afar anymore. She’s… here.”

My hand hovered near my sword.

“I don’t get it,” I whispered. “Why won’t she just talk to you?”

“Because she doesn’t want to talk. She wants to observe. Learn. And then, maybe… take something.”

The fire crackled. Luffy pressed against Lyssa’s leg protectively.

“You really think she followed you through a rift?” I asked.

“She did. But unlike me, she didn’t have to. She wanted to come here.”

A chill crept up my spine. “That means she could’ve prepared. Chosen powers. Gear. Skills.”

“Exactly,” Lyssa said grimly. “She could be ten times stronger than me.”

I took a breath, then forced a smile. “Well, we’ve got Luffy. That’s at least five times stronger than normal.”

Luffy barked like a true hero.

And in the trees, hidden just out of sight, a pair of golden eyes glimmered.

Just before sleep, another system message blinked into my vision:

[Familiar Bond – Level Up!]

Luffy has unlocked: Pack Instinct – Lv. 1

Increases defense and damage when protecting the bonded master or party members.

I reached over and gave Luffy a long pet behind the ears.

“You’re getting better faster than I am, bud.”

He sneezed. Onto my pillow.

“…Totally worth it.”

A Quiet Conversation

As we curled up for the night, Lyssa scooted closer to the fire.

“You think we’re ready for real training?” she asked.

“Nope,” I said.

She blinked. “Really?”

“But that never stopped me before. I died once already. What’s the worst that can happen—dying again?”

She cracked a small smile. “You’re a moron.”

“Thanks, I practice.”

Silence settled between us for a moment.

Then softly, she whispered, “Thanks for not treating me like some fragile goddess.”

I turned my head. “You’re not fragile. You’re just a divine NEET with stalker problems and questionable hygiene spells.”

“Shut up.”

“Good night, Lyssa.”

“…Good night, Ren.”

Luffy snored.