Gold Lionheart Fortress.

This was Chen Yu's second time arriving at this border fortress.

The first time was for conquest, to bring this stronghold guarding the edge of the Sia Forest into the Slime Kingdom’s territory. The second time was to inspect the land that already belonged to him.

This magnificent fortress, like the more northern Storm Fortress, had now become the solid bulwark of the Slime Kingdom’s southeastern border.

Chen Yu rode his Flying Sword, hovering above the fortress.

The winter wind was sharper at that height, stirring his round, emerald gel body. He stood on the blade and gazed ahead.

Beyond the snowy open ground in front of the fortress, faint figures the size of ants could be seen busily working at a distant mountain pass.

They were Misty Bay Harbor Trade Alliance craftsmen, expanding and reinforcing an originally small fortification, trying to build a defensive work to face Gold Lionheart Fortress.

The freshly turned earth and piled stones were not yet fully covered by snow, standing out under the leaden sky.

The Trade Alliance council had not let down its guard toward the Slime Kingdom, a dangerous and mysterious neighbor. On the surface, both sides maintained a “friendly” trade and personnel exchange agreement, but in practice the vigilance and caution never stopped.

Chen Yu guided the Flying Sword and slowly descended onto the wide main battlement of Gold Lionheart Fortress. Snow on the wall had been cleared into a passage, but merlons and arrow towers were still thickly coated.

The cold touch of the snow came through beneath his gel body, carrying winter’s chill.

Arno, already informed, came out to meet him.

He wore a heavy fur-trimmed leather armor, a cloak over it for warmth. Seeing Chen Yu, he rubbed his hands and chuckled, “Boss, you finally made it across the sea.”

Galvin knew nothing about politics or governance, often dragging Anna into the nearby Sia Forest to hunt Magical Creatures and train, so the day-to-day management and administration of this fortress naturally fell on the comparatively reliable Arno.

Though Arno himself was still a bit rough around the edges, once just a merchant rider, fortunately Slime Scholars dispatched from Winterhold and Slime City had come to help.

With their assistance, the fortress’s postwar tasks—repairing damaged walls and buildings, dismantling and clearing slums, relocating and settling original impoverished residents, establishing adventurer camps—had all been completed in advance.

Gold Lionheart Fortress had now become the checkpoint for the kingdom’s adventurers entering the Trade Alliance. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

In the adventurer camp outside the fortress, many adventurer teams and small to mid-sized caravans traveling between the two nations were stationed.

Smoke rose from cabins and tents, voices, horse neighs, and the sounds of cargo loading mixed together, bringing life to this cold military stronghold.

While Misty Bay Harbor had opened its border to the kingdom’s adventurers, the Slime Kingdom, adhering to a principle of reciprocity, also opened its gates to the Trade Alliance’s adventurers and merchants.

Of course, it was limited.

Most destinations were the established-order regions of the Dark Realm, deeper trips would head to Winterhold for trade or adventure.

The swamp core, the Dryad domain, and some important territories remained closed to outsiders.

“How’s the business intel shaping up?” Lin Zefa asked, hopping down from Winterhold’s shoulder.

News of Lin Zexiao’s adventurers capturing New Sun followers in Misty Bay Harbor had long been sent back to the kingdom through the Gel Network.

Even the first Selene adventurer contingent that later went to Lin Ze had returned successfully to Gold Lionheart Fortress to rest before completing their missions.

What Chen Yu wanted to know now was precisely the commercial intelligence those adventurers brought back—about Arno’s market, goods, prices, and merchant guild influence.

At the mention of that, Winterhold visibly brightened. I raised my voice and edged closer to the Trade Alliance, whispering loudly, “If not for these adventurers, you still wouldn’t have a preliminary grasp of the main factions outside Arno’s council and the forces behind us.”

“Nor would you know the routes of several key trade lines, the usual categories of transported goods, or the market prices for some niche items in Misty Bay Harbor.”

“As soon as Scholar Pum compiles the scattered intelligence everyone brought back into a report, sends it through the Gel Network to Winterhold’s post station, and hands it to the think tank scholars for analysis and planning, we can try opening a trade route to the southern kingdoms.”

Pum?

Chen Yu remembered that this Slime seemed to be one of Little Flower’s capable assistants—meticulous in thought, skilled in analysis and planning, and now apparently working for the kingdom’s newly formed think tank.

Not bad.

My great Slime Kingdom truly breeds talent.

Chen Yu thought with satisfaction, and a few small cheerful bubbles rose from his gel.

He and Arno walked side by side along the cleared walkway on the battlement, strolling atop the snow-dusted wall.

The cold wind occasionally whipped up flakes that hit their faces with a chilly sting. They chatted about everyday matters, like Little Arno and Amy’s enrollment at Winterhold’s newly established “Comprehensive Academy,” and whether Arno’s wife had adapted to life in Winterhold.

Arno scratched his hair, mussed by the wind, a smile on his face that was proud and a little helpless. “There are indeed quite a few Stone Descendant students at the new academy, also vampires, humans, and even a few elf children.”

“I heard Little Arno set up some club with a bunch of Stone Descendant and vampire classmates called ‘Stoneheart Society’ or something. They act all secretive, nobody knows what they’re up to.”

“Amy is quieter. She seems to prefer being with those Slime classmates—she’s made a lot of Slime friends.”

“They’re doing well in Winterhold. The school has Warm Stones, they eat well, it’s just... sometimes they write home complaining it’s too cold outside, or that they haven’t seen sunlight in a long time.”

...

He chatted idly with Arno about fortress management, family trivia, and past anecdotes.

Chen Yu felt like he hadn’t simply chatted with Arno in a long while.

He remembered their old days leaving the swamp together, crossing the Dark Realm, experiencing countless adventures.

Back then Arno had been plagued by petrification illness, a down-and-out rider full of uncertainty about the future.

Now Arno was head of the Belmont Family, guild leader of the kingdom’s Adventurer’s Guild, with responsibilities on his shoulders and a family behind him—no longer able to follow him into adventures as before.

Arno was remembering too.

His thoughts drifted farther back, recalling the past year—from failed business and crushing debt, nearly dying in the Sia Swamp Forest, to meeting the boss, being cured of petrification, and then embarking on a string of legendary adventures...

In just a year they had built from nothing, from a single little Oak Tree, expanding territory to span across the Dark Realm for the kingdom.

It all felt like living inside a bizarre, hyper-real dream.

He even felt the stone bricks under his feet sway a little.

He vaguely feared waking one day to find it all an illusion, an overly realistic dream,

or worse, that all this was his last hallucination before dying in that deadly swamp forest.

That unlucky Arno, the Arno tormented by petrification, had perhaps never truly left that forest.

“What’s that?” Chen Yu’s curious question pulled his thoughts back.

Arno followed Chen Yu’s gaze and saw in the adventurer camp below a human adventurer walking while biting into a golden, crispy pastry sprinkled with sugar and dried fruit.

The sweet and oily aroma drifting off the pastry could almost be smelled from a distance.

The rider on his shoulder—the Boss—was staring at the pastry with a hunter’s focus, almost drooling.

Arno scratched his head and laughed at his own foolish fantasy.

The Boss was still the Boss, unchanged.

And he was still a rider.

.......

Deep within the swamp, the Dryad domain welcomed several extremely special guests today.

Selene, a visitor from the distant south and a Great Sage of the Forest Sage Council, arrived with five sages and entered the swamp, greeted by the Silver Guard Fardoern and sage Alders.

When Alders saw Selene leading the group, he cheerfully stepped forward with his staff, placing his right hand over his chest and performing an ancient courtesy. “Greetings, Selene of the Celestials. Long time no see. You appear the same as ever.”

He hadn’t expected that simply mentioning the Slime Kingdom’s situation and the levitating castle to the council would catch Selene’s attention, prompting her to personally lead a delegation in response.

This Great Sage seemed intent on personally inspecting and feeling the miracles happening on this land before pursuing cooperation with the Slime Kingdom.

Selene nodded slightly in return. Her gaze did not linger on Alders; it fell instead on Fardoern.

“A Gold-Rank War Treant?”

“No... it seems somewhat different.”

Alders smiled and explained, “This is the Arcane Ancient Tree I mentioned to the council. Currently only the Slime Kingdom has mastered the cultivation method for this type of ancient tree unit.”

He patted Fardoern’s hardy trunk, which emitted a low, friendly hum.

“This old fellow is no younger than me, and just recently crossed the Gold-Rank threshold. Although this is the first true Arcane Ancient Tree, it’s an excellent start.”

“Perhaps, give this newborn kingdom a few hundred years, and they might cultivate a force comparable to the Ancient Tree Council’s treant battalions.”

Selene’s eyes flickered, thoughtful.

She said nothing further and simply signaled Alders to lead the way.

Finally reunited with old friends not seen for decades, Alders opened his mouth and chattered as he guided them along a forest path covered with snow and fallen leaves, explaining eagerly as they walked:

“His Majesty the Slime has temporarily left Slime City to inspect the border. It’s unclear when he’ll return. Before that, Lord Selene, everyone, you’d better stay in Rootwhisper Forest for the moment.”

“This is Viola’s territory. Though she is not a formal member of the council, she stands with us and can be trusted.”

“We should meet the forest’s mistress.”

“If you see Slimes passing by, don’t be surprised. They are formal subjects of the Slime Kingdom, possessing intelligence not inferior to humans, and quite different from those barbaric Magical Creatures.”

He animatedly cited examples. “I must mention Mr. Pum—he’s the smartest, most organized Slime I’ve seen, with unique insights into many new fields....”

Selene listened to Alders’ chatter, but her gaze kept drifting to the roadside.

She saw Slimes hugging Warm Stones passing by, curiously glancing at the strange strangers, pausing with a tilted head, then hopping away.

As Alders said, these Slimes were not only intelligent but more social than she expected. She even saw a Slime carrying a fungus or seed bag larger than its body, communicating with a human farmer, bouncing along.

“How marvelous...” a younger accompanying sage whispered, already taking notes of what they saw.

Is this the Slime realm? Selene thought.

More interesting and more complex than she had imagined,

She began to sense this journey might yield unexpected gains.

They emerged from the forest path into a clearing.

They entered fields that spread along the woodland opening, neatly planned; even in winter some areas were covered by translucent gel greenhouses with faint greenery inside.

Grimmerlings and Slimes bustled in and out of these strange gel greenhouses, carrying fertilizer, seeds, or harvests.

Human farmers in thick cotton clothing, faces plain and smiling, were working the fields, gesturing and communicating with Slimes, bending to tend the soil.

Alders explained, “The Slime Kingdom’s population has recently increased significantly, and grain demand is rising. These human farmers were recruited by His Majesty the Slime from far eastern lands.”

Selene nodded slightly, scanning the field workers. Unexpectedly to Alders, she walked straight toward a busy group at the field’s edge.

Her gaze finally fell on a somewhat thin young man trailing a Slime Agronomist, earnestly learning how to identify seed quality.

“Mr. Alders,” Selene said calmly, “I have some questions I’d like to ask these farmers. Please bring that young man over.”

Alders understood her intent—this Great Sage wanted to hear the Slime Kingdom’s truth from the mouths of immigrants.

He nodded and went to speak quietly with the young man and the nearby Slime Agronomist.

With the Slime Agronomist’s permission, the thin young man came over in a daze.

His name was Lyle. He had relocated from Gold Lionheart Fortress as a destitute resident.

After signing up for the Slime Kingdom’s recruitment with Uncle Tyler, he had brought his mother and little sister Mira, leaving the dilapidated, crowded slums beneath Gold Lionheart Fortress. After much travel they arrived at this strange forest.

Though unfamiliar and bitterly cold in winter, the Grimmerlings and Slime Agronomists were kind and patiently taught these new farmers how to cultivate in this realm, use the strange gel greenhouses, and breed swamp-adapted crops.

They were given warm mushroom huts, plenty to eat each day—hot, thick soups, soft baked bread, and sometimes cured meat and fresh tubers.

It was far better than life in the slums; at least they no longer feared cold and hunger.

These days Lyle had been following the Slime teacher in the fields, helping weed and water, recording crop growth. Though hard work, his heart was steady.

Uncle Tyler watched a small herd of cold-hardy goats on the forest’s edge—apparently part of the kingdom’s experimental ranching program.

At night they gathered in the communal warm house to eat and chat. The weathered old hunter always drank a mouthful of light berry wine, then with a flushed face praised the good life and boasted how wise it was to join the migration. He often ended up drunk and unconscious, carried back by Bolair and neighbors.

Lyle was grateful to Uncle Tyler. If Tyler hadn’t grimly chosen to take the risk, his family might still be struggling in the slums.

He was even more grateful to the Slime masters. Though odd in appearance, they had sincerely helped them.

Recently he had heard from the Slime teacher that Winterhold opened a Comprehensive Academy not far from here, accepting kingdom subjects beyond Slimes for free basic education.

When his little sister Mira turned six she could go to school to learn to read, and maybe even those mysterious Arcane Arts.

All these decrees were said to be personally issued by His Majesty the Slime who governed the whole kingdom.

When Lyle heard this news he was so happy he hardly slept that night.

He vowed to work harder and learn more agronomy to repay His Majesty the Slime and the kingdom that accepted them.

But the work hadn’t gone on long before a group of unfamiliar elves arrived in the forest.

Lyle had to stop what he was doing and follow Alders.

He awkwardly copied the greeting he had seen before, right hand stiffly on his chest, bowing slightly, head lowered, voice dry from nervousness.

“M-Master... are you looking for me?”