Slime Immortal.

Chapter 172 Believers +1 +1 +1
"Woo!!"

A loud wolf howl echoed through the forest, and a giant, silver-gray shadow darted and darted through the shadows of the trees, carrying orcs wielding flail and bone axes as they entered.

"Lord Gron, we've arrived!"

"Surround them!"

"Don't let them get away!"

Only thirteen orcs entered this time, but without exception, they were all elite Frostwolf riders from the Horde who had passed the test of wolf riders.

The tacit understanding they developed with the frost wolves from a young age has made them accustomed to the bumpy ride, enabling them to maintain high mobility while coordinating attacks with the frost wolves' bites and claw strikes.

It can be said that the orc tribes here were able to become the overlords of the snowfield largely because of these frost wolf riders who roamed the snowfield.

Their appearance was undoubtedly a double blow to the savage tribe, casting a shadow over the fleeing savages and adding a touch of fear to their eyes.

"Traitors, they all must die."

The berserk Gronn became extremely irritable and lost his mind, but in return, he gained terrifying power.

His entire body was crimson, like a wild beast crawling on the ground, with magic and ferocity surrounding him like blood, forming an even taller and more violent blood shadow.

This terrifying aura caused Sermia to pause slightly.

Immediately afterwards, with a loud "bang," Gron sent snow flying, leaving a bloody shadow, and instantly arrived in front of Sermia, swinging his crimson fist straight down.

Sermia's eyes narrowed, dispelling the aura that had been so intimidating.

She did not choose to compete in strength with this beast-like orc; her supple waist bent at an incredible angle in an instant, dodging the punch.

Before Grom could react, Sermia had already slid behind him and stabbed his shoulder blade without hesitation with her remaining bone blade.

"Pfft!"

The bone blade had only penetrated halfway when it was blocked by taut muscles and bones. Gronn roared like a wild beast, his crimson eyes flashing like fire meteors behind him, forcing Sermia to retreat.

However, the berserk Gronn had long lost the ability to feel pain, and without even removing the bone blade stuck in his shoulder, he launched a fierce and relentless attack on Sermia.

The crimson fist left afterimages as it smashed down, causing Seremia's arm to ache and tiny cracks to appear in her tough ulna and radius.

Just as she was struggling to hold on, Sergash used the spiked club he had taken to smash a wolf rider orc and his frost wolf away.

"You despicable orc, your opponent is me!"

Serghash, wielding his spiked club, charged forward like a reckless little pig.

The clear shout startled the berserk Groon, bringing some clarity back to his eyes. Before he could turn around, a tremendous force struck his back as the spiked club's nails pierced his flesh, sending him flying several meters before he managed to land.

Sermia seized the opportunity to escape, drew her spare short blade, and chased after the Frostwolf riders who were surrounding the savages.

"Sergash, you take care of this guy. I'll deal with the cavalry."

Sermia's agile figure moved swiftly across the snow. Although her profession was warrior, she had also passed the tribe's Jungle Walker Trial and the Life Spirit Trial.

Both their physique and agility are quite good, making them more well-rounded than other warriors who rely on strength, with almost no weaknesses.

Such a terrifying hexagonal warrior charged into the Frostwolf pack, fighting alongside a group of giant wolves half the height of a human, and his imposing presence was in no way inferior, making the wolf-riding orcs dare not approach.

The two sides have temporarily maintained their standoff.

Meanwhile, on Serghash's side, Gronn was still being chased and fleeing in a sorry state by her wielding spiked club.

"Damn it!! All you do is chase me and beat me up!" Groon cursed angrily, narrowly dodging her attack.

“You guessed right,” Thergash shouted confidently.

She's a little angry now.

The oak staff that the messenger had given her was lost during the confrontation with the Frostwolf cavalry.

It's all the fault of those orcs.

"I'm going to beat you up! Don't try to run away if you dare!"

Are you kidding me? If you don't run, are you just waiting to be smashed into mincemeat?!
The berserk effect was gradually fading, and Gronn could feel the pain that had been blocked returning, causing him to almost fall over from the pain.

"Lord Gron...you?!"

Without any hesitation, he pulled a Frostwolf rider off his back and continued riding forward on the Frostwolf.

However, this frost wolf was clearly still thinking about its master, and kept trying to turn back to save the frost wolf rider.

"You beast! Go after those savages!" Groon grabbed its neck and cursed.

The savages ahead were exhausted and stopped in their tracks, only to be surrounded by the Frostwolf cavalry.

"Go quickly, don't worry about me!" Brutu the shaman panted, waving for the young savage to leave.

"Shaman, the children can't run anymore, we can't retreat, we have to fight them!"

The savages all showed resolute expressions, huddled together, protecting the old and children inside, and wary of a possible attack by the Frostwolf cavalry.

However, if it weren't for Sermia holding them back, these savages, armed only with wooden bows and bone hammers, would have been slaughtered by these cavalry long ago.

Unable to subdue Sermia for a long time, the Frostwolf Riders exchanged glances and tacitly changed their tactics, no longer choosing to confront her head-on, but instead circling around her to wear down her stamina.

Even if Serghash arrives and uses magic to counter, it will be difficult to hit highly mobile cavalry.

Clearly, these orcs intended to wear them down to death here.

Sermia and Sergash stood back to back, their eyes still wary of the loitering wolf riders around them. Sergash asked, looking down, "Sergash, do you have a solution?"

Serghash was taken aback at first, then hesitated. "Perhaps I can pray to the messenger."

Just like last time in the Elemental Plane, the messenger always managed to appear by her side in time and help her.

As a believer, she felt ashamed for frequently troubling the messenger, but it was the only option available.

Sermia nodded, choosing to believe her.

Then, under the orcs' gaze, Sergash put down his spiked club and began to pray.

"Great Pthu and Your Excellency, please cast your merciful gaze upon me, Sermia, and these poor creatures..."

"Damn it, what kind of magic is that lizard casting now?"

Groon's eyelids twitched, and this time he dared not approach, only lingering around.

But he soon realized that Serghash was simply praying, and he immediately felt as if he had been tricked.

"Praying to the gods? Hmph, the gods don't respond to believers so easily..."

He had barely finished speaking when a Frostwolf rider looked up at the sky, alert:

"Warning: Unidentified unit spotted in the air."

In this pure white world, the jet-black background of the aerial monster stood out conspicuously and was immediately noticed by everyone.

It was a swarm of poisonous bees and beetles.

Even more bizarrely, the leader was a winged, flying slime!

Damn it!!
How did monsters from outside the snowfield end up here?

Sergasus then finished his prayer and looked up in confusion, following everyone's gaze. When he saw the slime, his face instantly lit up with surprise.

"It's the messenger! It's here!"

"She summoned them?!"

Gron immediately became wary and was about to retreat.

To his surprise, the slime seemed to be drunk and began to wobble and fall toward him.

"Ouch... I'm out of strength..."

The little slime got tired of flying and fell headfirst, landing with a "thud" on Grom's helmet.

Suddenly, the snowfield fell silent.

Both the Frostwolf riders and the savages stopped what they were doing and watched this scene.

"Is this a conspiracy by this lizard?!"

Groon was startled and was about to swing his helmet to fling the slime off his head.

At that moment, a chaotic force poured into his mind, instantly disrupting his consciousness.

Chaotic proselytizing

what is this? !!

Damn...

The thought flashed through Gron's mind, and then for some reason, feelings of guilt, fear, and self-hatred welled up inside him.

But in an instant, he came to his senses, broke free from the chaotic state, hurriedly flung the slime off his head, and scrambled away from the spot, staring in astonishment at the slime slowly landing.

What on earth is this thing?!

Could it really be the messenger of the gods that the lizard spoke of?
"Lord Gron?" The Frostwolf cavalrymen, facing off against the swarm of stinging bees in the air, cautiously approached, looking at the disheveled state of their tribe's warriors with a sense of bewilderment.

I don't understand why he would react so strongly to a slime.

They had never seen this green slime before, but in some magically rich areas of the snowfield, they had seen ice slimes that could spit out ice blocks.

Orcs often encounter them when hunting in the snowfields. These not-so-powerful monsters at most cause some trouble for the hunting party, but they are not particularly terrifying.

Gron didn't respond to them, but cautiously retreated, raising his hand and saying, "Retreat!"

Looking at this group of formidable outsiders, especially this strange slime, he chose the most conservative approach.

Although the Frostwolf riders and the other orcs were puzzled, they slowly retreated into the snow forest until their figures completely disappeared.

"They ran away?"

The savages were stunned, and then their eyes were fixed on the little slime on the snow, whose eyes were almost covered by snow.

"Did it save us?"

"A messenger of the gods! This is a messenger of the gods!!"

The savages became excited and cheered.

Having narrowly escaped death, some even knelt down and wept, praying and thanking the Sergassh sisters and the little slime.

Sermia rushed to pull the savages up, while Sergash jogged over and picked up the little slime.

"Your Excellency, did you come because you heard my prayers?"

The little slime blinked its puzzled eyes. "What a coincidence... The signal is bad, I can't contact the main body, so I'm here to deliver food."

After it finished speaking, Sergash noticed the bags of supplies that the stinging wasps and beetles were holding.

Serghash was taken aback. "Are these all the airdrops the envoy mentioned?"

"So many...so many."

The bat slime bubbled up happily, "Mmm! Food, and equipment for Thergash."

It was too dangerous to stay here any longer; the orcs could return at any moment. Instead of immediately checking what was inside the bags, Serjah and Serja continued leading the savages toward the direction of Mount Nada.

As they walked, the wild man gazed curiously at the orderly caravan of bees following behind him, his eyes filled with both curiosity and a touch of reverence.

Sermia approached, glanced at the little slime in Sergash's arms, bowed and said, "Thank you for the rescue, Messenger. Sermia is deeply grateful."

The bat slime seemed to understand, shaking the gel up and down to nod, then squeezing out a clump of gel, indicating to Sergash to put it on Sermia.

Sermia tucked the small ball of gel behind her ear in confusion, when suddenly a soft, sweet voice echoed in her mind.

“Ben, Ben does not mistreat the believers of the original body.”

Sermia was startled upon hearing this, never expecting that she would be qualified to hear divine pronouncements. She immediately bowed her head and said, "Thank you, Your Excellency."

After they finished their conversation, Sergash asked curiously, "That arrogant orc seemed quite afraid of you. Has Ptu's reputation already reached the snowfields?"

Upon hearing this, Sermia also looked over curiously, seemingly wondering how the slime messenger would respond.

The bat slime thought for a moment, "Orcs, cowards, afraid of me."

Thinking about it this way, it actually felt that it was right, and couldn't help but admire its own strength, so it puffed out its chest slightly.

Without any doubt, Serghash exclaimed in amazement, "Wow...so amazing."

Sermia nodded, having gained a better understanding of the mysterious Ptut envoy.

The fact that even a mere clone of the messenger could scare away that orc suggests that the messenger himself might be an extraordinary and powerful being.

Moreover, this messenger repeatedly helped Serghash, showing far too much favoritism towards his followers.

Of course, Putu doesn't seem to have many followers to begin with, and there are even rumors that Putu disappeared long ago and left Zearella.

Perhaps it would be convenient to listen to believers' requests this way, she thought to herself for no reason.

The group continued on foot and, after some time, finally arrived at the foot of Nabuda Peak.

Sermia followed the map left by her ancestors and finally found the cave they had left behind.

The space inside is quite spacious, enough to accommodate all of them to rest here.

The group entered the cold cave one after another, shook off the snow from their shoulders and hats, and brushed off the snow and mud sticking to their animal-hide boots before sitting down to rest.

After getting away from the howling wind, the children stopped shivering, but the cave was still not warm enough.

So the savages endured the grief of losing their companions and went out to find firewood and food, leaving only the wounded, the old and the children to wait in the cave.

Sermia stood guard at the cave entrance, while inside, Sergash placed his hands on the savage's wounds and began to treat him.

A burst of natural light appeared, and the savage's pained expression began to ease.

After her wounds had almost healed, she sought out another wild man for further treatment.

The bat slime, perched on her shoulder, simply watched all this with curiosity, when suddenly an idea popped into her head.

This snowfield seems even more lively than I imagined.

Should we build a fortress here as well, and expand the kingdom's sphere of influence into the snowfields?

This seems like a good idea.

"Wow, as expected of Benmu, it has half the intelligence of the original body." It was very satisfied with its brilliant idea and planned to tell the original body when it got back.

Just as Sergash finished treating her and breathed a sigh of relief, Brutus Shaman was slowly helped over by the savages.

Before Sergash could speak, the old man slowly knelt down and bowed in prayer.

"Thank you, messenger of the gods, thank you, Miss Serghash, we are deeply grateful for your kindness."

“If permitted, our tribe is willing to convert to this god and serve him for generations to come.”

Serghash panicked a little. "You, you should get up first."

Spreading faith is no small matter.

Especially those unbelievers like the Wild Man tribe, who actually offered to follow the Ptu.

Brutus the shaman looked up respectfully at the slime on her shoulder, as if asking for its opinion.

believer?

What use is this thing?

The bat slime was a little confused, but still shook the gel up and down to nod in agreement.

Brutus then smiled and was helped to his feet.

Time passed, and as darkness fell, the savages who had gone out to search for supplies returned.

They gathered enough firewood and hunted a few snow hares and some plant roots. While not enough to fill their stomachs, their vital signs were definitely not in danger.

After a long day of work, the campfire was finally lit. The rabbit meat on the grill was sizzling and dripping with oil. The hungry savages couldn't bear to eat it and gave the roasted meat away.

"Shaman, please eat."

Brutus the shaman shook his head and gestured in refusal, saying, "Let our two warriors eat first."

The savage nodded, then carefully and respectfully handed a whole roasted rabbit to Sergash and his companion.

"Two brave warriors, please have some food."

Sergash had just finished his work when he turned his gaze to the tempting roasted meat, then it drifted to the child who was secretly swallowing his saliva, and he felt a strange pang of sadness.

She and her sister had endured the same thing through countless winters in the swamp.

When food was scarce, the father would always find various reasons to give the remaining meat to his sisters, while he would simply gnaw on some tubers to barely fill his stomach.

In those longing eyes, she seemed to see her former self.

On Sergasus's shoulder, the bat slime seemed to sense her disappointment, patted her cheek, and said magnanimously:
"The main body allowed Benm to bring lots and lots of food, eat as much as you want."

Serghash snapped out of his daze and remembered what the messenger had mentioned about the airdrop; an expectant look appeared on his face.

"Sister, do you remember the surprise I told you about before?"

Sermia had just rejected the savages' kindness, and when she heard Sergash's words, she was somewhat puzzled.

"What surprise?"

"Oh, wait, I forgot to mention."

She explained, "Do you remember when I told you about meeting the envoy in the Elemental Plane?"

Sermia nodded, indicating that she remembered.

"The envoy said he was going to send me some supplies, and then they came..."

"You mean, those bags are filled with food?!" Sermia realized.

(End of this chapter)