[Slimy Slime] Chapter 59: Stats Galore!

It had been hours. Hours and hours and hours of eating nothing but hearts! Do you know what goblin hearts are like? They are exactly like human hearts in size, dimensions, looks, and maybe function? But smaller. As if they came from children.

My mood was an all time low. Worse… I hadn’t been alone. I’d convinced Michael to leave but not the one who’d brought me the hearts in the first place. It was one [Hob-Goblins], one of the Goblite as I continued to call them.

He had been the one to fish all the hearts out of the sewers. He clearly hadn’t done it alone, there had been too many, and I knew more was going down there even now. The sewer angle didn’t bother me nearly as much as they were fucking hearts. I had tried to send him away but…

“I can’t do that my King! Krrrgg has ordered me to help feed you.” He said, while putting his fist to his chest in salute.

I frowned, heavily.

“I’m not a baby! I don’t need to be fed Orvik. I’ll uhh, figure out a way to move over there.”

Orvik took on a very somber look. More somber than I’d ever seen any goblin of any type have.

“You must eat. We need you my King. Don’t let their sacrifice be in vain.”

I still felt rattled even now. It one thing to feel god damn terrible about murdering so many innocents, robbing them of their chance at being people, but I wasn’t a goblin. Krrrgg may have been a bit of an outcast due to her high position and close ‘relationship’ with the chief… but that wasn’t the same for others. They had other villages, big ones, small ones, a whole territory. Orvik and the other Goblite, they were smart, a cut above the regular goblins. How would they feel, knowing so many people they once knew as goblins were now dead? Their fathers? Their mothers? Maybe even their children… all as hearts on platter. No matter how thick their chaotic nature was, it didn’t mean they didn’t care. The other goblins wouldn’t be… well… ‘there’ enough to think that far. Not until they became [Hob-Goblins]. This war was the worst on my Goblite.

I’d eaten them. I hadn’t been able to move, so like the world’s worst garbage disposal, Orvik had just begun to pour them on top of me. They were flesh, dead flesh at that. And not from anything too terribly tough. My They had melted like witches in water. And the stat points had begun to climb. And climb. And climb.

After hours and hours, I still didn’t believe the number I was seeing. It was an insane number. I had once worried about dragons eating millions of humans. At this point, I felt like that theoretical dragon.

[General/Crown/Evolution/Dungeon

Name: Slimy Slime

Free stat points: 1000

HP: 287/287

MP: 174/174

STR: 50

AGI: 41

DEX: 50

CON: 35

END: 50

INT: 38

WIS: 50

SPI: 50]

1000. 1000 free stat points. That… I was absolutely positive I could reach the limits of a Tier 2 monster… with stats to spare. This [Crown System] was an absolute cheat. Plus… I could finally make my stats look nice! What was that mess?! Absolutely ridiculous.

There was one tiny little problem though… I wasn’t exactly… in a good condition. Just looking at the Spirit stat made my slime shudder. I had over taxed my soul apparently and somehow, I didn’t think boosting my Spirit stat would help fix that. No, no I had a strong feeling that was a good way to become the world’s first slime to die of soul stress. I wonder if I could become a ghost slime… shudder.

Cautiously, having learned from my mistakes, I began to raise my stats one by one. Agility first. I could practically feel myself getting faster, as if my slime had more ‘oomph’ behind it but the right kind of ‘oomph’. Which was funny because I still couldn’t move.

Con next and I knew that one was helping me recover fast, just a little. Finally, the boost to Intelligence, which had the constant splitting migraine I had lessening in intensity. Thank whichever god ruled over that. Knowledge maybe?

Finally, I put stats into somewhere that practically had me giddy. My HP and MP. But I stopped at a certain point. There was… some kind of feeling like… like this was the limits of a Generation 1 monster. At least for slimes under the [Crown System]. Without that… I wouldn’t be surprised if 10 was the max for slimes. It still rankled though. I knew Goblins could go past 50 in a stat while Tier 0. Knowledge had told me different races had different racial limits but it just felt annoying. I guess goblins just had a ‘higher potential’ than slimes, at least when it came to raw stats.

I looked at my stat page with glory in my eyes.

[General/Crown/Evolution/Dungeon

Name: Slimy Slime

Free stat points: 849

HP: 500/500

MP: 500/500

STR: 50

AGI: 50

DEX: 50

CON: 50

END: 50

INT: 50

WIS: 50

SPI: 50]

The still human part of my non-existent brain nearly cried. So… beautiful… It was glorious! Perfect!

And absolutely my current limit.

Until I was healed up… even the thought of putting a single more stat in, had my body doing convulsions. Which was especially disturbing as a slime. I even had to ‘cut off’ some stats when increasing MP, something I didn’t even know I could do until I realized I needed to do it. Until I was healed from my soul over use, I wasn’t going to be able to increase my stats any further.

Still… I felt faster, healthier, quicker of thought, and had over doubled my HP and MP. I was still feeling rough but this has done a lot to alleviate it. Cautiously, barely, I made a small tendril of slime. I’d be able to move soon but… [Spirit Hands] were going to be out for a while. I’d gotten more than a little reliant on it. I mean… it was my hands. I’d have to learn how to do without it for a while…

Orvik had watched, silently, as I’d messed around with my status. I must have turned or moved my slime in some way, because it seemed like he could tell I was done messing about with it.

“My King! What do you require of me now?”

“Uhh…. That’s a really good question.”

I went through my mental checklist of stuff… and my physical one, glancing at the wooden wall. Let’s see. General Training? Nope. Completely impossible. Magical training? Nope. Soul and magic were even more intimately connected than my body and my soul. That was a good way to blow up. Astra Training? …Too scary. Who knows how having an ‘injured’ or ‘strained’ soul would affect that? I might literally blow up if I tried. Sparring? Nope. Perspective training? A pulsing migraine was not the best condition to be trying to change how you saw the world. Dungeon related stuff? Sandra has basically commandeered that completely, being even more of a [Dungeon Master] than I was. She would use my mana in the best ways possible from now on, I was sure, and I didn’t want to mess with that until there was an absolute surplus and we weren’t at war. That meant dropping a ton of different dungeon created acids on me was also a no go for now…

“Orvik. I’m going to be real honest with you… I have absolutely no idea what to do right now.”

The break was one thing… but multiple days of just… not doing anything while we were at war?! That, that was ridicoulous! No, no way. I had to do something. Maybe I could… melt things? I was really good at melting things. Or… or… I don’t know!

“...Perhaps you should rest, My King?” Orvik said, seemingly unsure.

“Nonsense! We’re at War Orvik. This is no time for me to be doing nothing.”

“But… My King… the invasion is handled due to Mistress Sandra’s innovations correct?”

“That… well… but what if-! …I… but… something could change…?” I said, extremely unconvincingly.

“My King, it seems like the War has already been won.”

“Oh well now you’ve gone and done it! You’ve definitely jinxed us. Lesson one, never say something like ‘oh this is going well’ or ‘oh, this is already done’ or ‘oh, what could possible go wrong?’ Fate will always screw with you! Now there’s definitely going to be some new horrible event around the corner now.”

Orvik looked doubtful for half a second, before nodding in terror. Good! Don’t disrespect the wisdom of the world. My ancestors did not sus out the secrets of fate only for it be ignored. There’s superstition and then there’s just really strange facts.

A knock came at my door and my slimy self began to beat harder. Kinda. Whatever. What was it now? The birds? Had big bird come a calling? Was the Goblin Chief here himself in person?!

Sandra opened the door, paused for a moment at the atmosphere, and then kept going.

“Slimy slime, there’s… well… something you should be told about.”

“...yes?”

Oh gods, what is it?!

“The goblins want to hold a celebration.”

I blinked. Uhh… well that wasn’t so bad-

“With you… they’ve been chanting for you for an hour now since they learned you woke up and… they even ‘built’ you a throne.”

Well… that should be fine right? I mean, if they wanted a celebration… it was a bit, no, a lot pre-mature. In fact, it was downright ghastly. But they’d all pitched in over the course of those three days, best they could. They’d seen countless goblins, that looked just like them, slaughtered. They’d donated their mana, which was the only reason we could build that horrible, terrible meat grinder like thing in the first place.

They deserved a break.

How bad could it be?

Wait… shit.

I looked over to Orvik, glaring. Orvik looked gobsmacked, completely confused why his King was suddenly glaring at him.