The Slime Farmer - 123 Another Near Death Experience

The body was long and slender, its back studded with ridged armor like the illustrations of crocodiles Defi saw in one of the local books. Six clawed feet clicked on the cobbles as it slithered out of the pot it had been slumbering in.

It was one mar long from shoulder to tail tip, with the snakeheads at least another half-mar in length.

Defi skipped back to avoid the rather vicious heads, now hissing in fury at having lost one of their number to Defi’s knife.

“Chel, it really is a scyllarelis.”

Defi glanced back at the familiar voice. Cuthes, the town adjutant who headed the local guards, stared at the creature in consternation.

Half the heads hissed at the adjutant, undulating in his direction.

“Enclose it!” Cuthes didn’t falter, only called to the gathering guards. “Don’t injure it more or it’ll breathe out its poison!”

“Oh,” Defi sheathed his knife and moved to help Cuthes carry one of the flower stand’s heavy potted plants to block the path of the creature. “It’s poisonous. Of course it is.”

“Only when agitated,” Cuthes exhaled as he lifted the corner of a planter pot. “Some people keep them as pets, you know. Great rat-catchers.”

“I see, yes, of course that makes everything all right.”

Cuthes just chuckled at the sarcastic mutter. Defi looked around. In the few moments since Cuthes spoke, a haphazard barricade formed with the help of the townspeople.

The beast, the scyllarelis, knew it was being penned. Its eleven remaining heads waved and jerked around anxiously. It deliberately nudged at the edges of the barricade with its body, as if testing the enclosure.

“What’s to be done?” In Ontrea, hunters menaced by snakes in the wild would cut down a forked branch and pin down the head to render the snake unable to use its fangs. That method wouldn’t work in this instance, where the creature had multiple heads.

Cuthes hummed, waved a guard over. “Go and see if the apothecaries have any serpentsleep fern. Bring…eh, about half a kilogar, it’s not full-grown yet.”

Someone nearby clucked her tongue. “Better make it a full kilogar, it’s wet weather in the east. The beast’s likely incubating right now.”

Oh. There was going to be more of the thing.

“Is the poison strong?” Defi estimated that with a sharp sword and sufficient strength, it would be possible to lop off all the heads at once. They were not so thick, nor did the long snake-tendrils looked as armored as the creature’s body.

He glanced at the speaker.

Emra, who he had not seen since the Groaning Cliff, grinned at him wildly. “Kid, you breathe in those fumes, you better be ready to bring out your head’s weight in gold or resign yourself to a good long chat with the Bridgemaker.”

Cuthes looked exasperated. “You and Lemat better keep your hands off—”

“Adjutant!”

“It’s moving!”

The scyllarelis had slither-scrambled up the stepped shelves that held flowers, gained enough height to fling itself onto the lower bushes off the barricade in order to escape. Twigs crackled sharply as they broke, but ultimately held the weight of the animal.

The problem was, Defi and Cuthes being the only ones to make their part of the enclosure from the flower stall’s bushes, the angrily hissing creature was headed right at them.

Warning shouts and gasps sounded behind Defi.

He ignored the piercing sounds of the screamers, put some distance between himself and the other two. His knife blade flashed and another snake-head fell to wriggle bloodily on the ground.

“Get back! Get back, further back by Chel!”

He heard Cuthes roaring but his attention was on the animal now whirling sinuously toward him. He started quickly backward, unwilling to lose eyes on the enemy.

The hisses from ten remaining heads, entwining together, now sounded more like furious shrieking.

Idly, Defi thought the sound of the screeching of revengeful witches on Tharak Mountain in the Ontrean tales would be something similar, a promise of violence and malice thinned by the high winds and carried to the ears of fearful children on the distant plains.

The heads reached out as one, a faint green-colored smoke around the snakes’ menacing mouths.

Sparks of Shades in the periphery of his sight. Too far.

Defi wished for a larger blade, but only had the knife.

It would have to do.

He bid the Current rise like a wave inside him, and readied.

Must be fast, to cut off the fumes, to prevent its spread.

Another shriek. Ten pairs of eyes unwaveringly fixed on his neck.

He exhaled. Conceited beast.

Come then, creature.

Defi skipped back again, inhaling carefully.

Unexpectedly, the movement ended before it was supposed to.

His heel caught something, crunched loudly, broken by the force of his foot. Defi stumbled, fell backward over shards of shattered jar, knife skittering away.

His eyes widened, body falling, the thing’s claws on his boots. Not dead here, surely?

“Inizar!”

“Defi!”

The heads of the creature stretched, hunter’s eyes not wanting to let go of his now vulnerable neck. Fast. Too fast.

No.

Animistic single-minded focus of fury and revenge, gave him a chance.

“Inizar!” A rope of water twined around the snake-beast’s body. Emra, he recognized the voice in the back of his mind.

Greater chance.

Defi twisted away, tucking his body in and under.

Something ripped the feel of claws from his boots. Defi thudded on the ground, rolled to a crouch.

A dull crash of wood, breaking plates, a meaty crunch. Livid hisses cut short.

“Move back!”

“Inizar!”

Defi’s body bent forward to attack, instinct still set on life and death.

Too late.

Hands opened and closed at his sides, frustration, loss of prey, battle still pumping in his blood.

He stood, inhaled and exhaled deeply, eyes half-closed to hide the sharpness.

He let the Current subside, take away the anger and fear and exultation of another near-death.

They were removing a traveling trunk from atop the remains of the beast. Fire Shade was red, quickly incinerating the poison from the inside.

Less than ten pairs of eyes, dull in death, still remained from the vicious thing. The rest were crushed by the trunk or damaged by the rescuing glyph-users.

It was over.

“Defi?”

“Haral.” He’d seen the other of course, the sight processed and filed away like all the data from his senses. “Are you alright?”

Haral was a little pale. He looked at Defi in disbelief. “Am I alright?”

“You look very well,” Defi deadpanned.

“That’s not what I meant!”

Defi hid his amusement by checking the contents of the satchel still firmly belted to his side. To his relief, nothing happened. “Then, is your trunk alright?”

The traveling chest the boy had been carrying was now being scraped clean of scyllarelis remains.

Haral paled further, grimaced in horror at the bloodstains evident on the wood. “Oh no, she’s going to kill me.”

Defi almost laughed. “Which one of your sisters owns it? Please tell her that it saved my life, and I am very grateful.”

The other looked relieved, then indignant. “It saved your life? How about me, huh? Am I a stone?”

“Yes, yes.” Defi looked around for his knife, then back to see the crossed arms and pouting face of his companion. “Thank you, Haral, oh savior of my life, may you be blessed with fortune forever. I’ll treat you to a meal at the Corner Tavern. Your sisters too, if you want.”

Haral beamed.

“Now have you seen my knife?”

“It’s a good knife.” Emra said from behind him.

Defi tried not to twitch, turned to see her rolling the blade through her fingers. “Thanks for the…water-chain?”

“Whoo, now I’m tempted to say finders’ keepers.”

“That only applies if I abandoned the blade on the field of battle.” Defi protested immediately. It really was a good knife.

She hummed, blade still flicking between her fingers. “You did throw it away.”

“By accident!”

She laughed. “Oh, even you can get sulky if your toys are taken, huh?”

She returned the knife to the sheath on Defi’s belt.

“What does that mean?” He definitely wasn’t sulky. And the knife was a very useful everyday utility item, not a toy.

Haral snorted, but only grinned when Defi glanced at him.

“Seems I came back at an interesting time. Maybe I should join the town guard this year.” Emra eyed the guards incinerating the scyllarelis, while others kept the gossiping and still pale onlookers away. “Pity they’re burning it. Would fetch a good price in any apothecary guild whole. Oh well. I suppose they’ll save the bones.”

“I…wasn’t someone saying it spat poison?” Haral looked over as well. “What is it, anyway?”

“It’s more common past the southeast border mountains, where it’s hotter and more watery. Not native to Ascharon.” Emra offered easily. “Scyllarelis, twelve headed snake-lizard, rank three mystic beast. Don’t actually know what it’s doing here.”

“Considering the flower-seller tried to say it was an ornamental plant…”

Emra snickered, then laughed. She stopped herself quickly, but still had a big grin on her face. “Yeah, not funny. There are stories where it’s been sold as snakebraid before.”

Defi was certain that, unlike this one, those stories had no happy endings.

**

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Notes:

A human head weighs about 5 kg apparently.

The word ‘Inizar’, is the standard safety activation word for card-based Emblems in Ascharon.

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Hi, this is Jin Daoran. If you see this work on other websites, know that I post exclusively on the Webnovel site. If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting on webnovel.com. Thanks!