Slime Immortal.

Chapter 191 The Gel Addiction Strikes Again
Iserly's fingertips unconsciously traced across the parchment, and distant memories surfaced in her mind.

Ancient trees from the war.

Each of these trees, a high-ranking unit of the Elven Legion, requires a long period of time and the tempering of war to cultivate. Each one is extremely precious, and only the ancient elves in the Ancient Tree Council can afford to raise them.

If we trace the origins of the oak guardians in the tree spirit territory, they might be considered descendants of the ancient war trees, separated by countless generations. Their potential is limited, and the chances of them transforming into extraordinary beings are extremely slim.

However, after interacting with those magical slimes and witnessing their strange magic, Iserline had a vague feeling.

Perhaps, cultivating a high-level unit comparable to the Ancient Tree of War is not limited to following ancient traditions.

"This place is becoming increasingly unstable..."

She sighed softly, took out a magical leaf that exuded mysterious power, and rubbed it between her fingertips, her thoughts drifting to the future of her territory.

Although Viola is nominally the lord of this forest, the naturally lazy and carefree lord usually leaves almost all management affairs to her.

Moreover, the more important the decisions involve, such as the future development of the territory and foreign relations, the more Viola prefers to leave the decision to her.

This gave Iserline quite a headache.

To protect this peaceful paradise surrounded by treacherous swamps, they need to seek a stronger and more reliable force.

That's why she was quite interested in the Rune Oak Guardian concept proposed by the Slime Kingdom.

This might be a shortcut to quickly improve the territory's defense capabilities.

"Your Highness, have you been able to contact His Majesty?" Iserline gathered her thoughts and used the gel communicator clipped to her pointed ear to send a message to Little Flower, who was far away in the Eastern Swamp.

About a minute later, Xiaohua's soft and sleepy voice came through the communicator: "No, brother seems to be busy. There's no response from the communicator. Miss Iserlyn, is there anything else?"

Iserlin responded, "Regarding the alchemical energy circuit formula for 'Rune Oak Guardian,' I have optimized and improved it based on the energy characteristics you provided. Theoretically, it should be able to effectively improve the transmission and conversion efficiency of that mysterious energy within the oak tree."

"However, the magical leaves that your territory can currently mass-produce and provide to me conflict with the properties of the oak tree guardians and cannot be connected to the energy circuit."

"I need more magic leaves as samples for further testing and adjustments."

After the message was sent, it took a while before Xiaohua's voice came through the gel communicator again; this time she seemed more awake.

"Ah! Uncle Anvil just told me that my brother has left the mining area and headed to the tree spirit territory. He should be arriving soon."

As soon as Xiaohua finished speaking, the air around Iserline distorted, and Viola's spirit silently emerged like a reflection in water.

She lay languidly on the edge of the boulder where Iselin was sitting, propping her chin up with her hand, and asked, "Iselin, have you made up your mind?"

"You should know what sharing knowledge means in the tradition of the elves, especially knowledge about the ancient trees, which is not something that can be taught casually even among the elves."

Iserline stood up and gave Viola a respectful elven bow: "Lady Viola, elves are never stingy in sharing knowledge and wisdom with intelligent beings who love nature."

"Of course, this excludes those stubborn, rigid old fogies in the Ancient Tree Council who regard knowledge as private property."

Upon hearing this, Viola couldn't help but burst out laughing.

For the usually calm and polite Iselin to call them "old fogies," it seems those old guys really gave her a hard time and messed things up for her when she was studying at the Ancient Tree Council.

“Okay, okay,” Viola waved her hand, her smile fading and her expression becoming slightly more serious. “Actually, I have an idea too.”

"You know, we've been in this forest for so long, shouldn't we... start thinking about finding a more reliable kingdom?"

Iselin was taken aback at first, but quickly regained her composure and analyzed, "Those slimes... are indeed interesting, but they may not be able to get out of this swamp."

Viola tilted her head, asking curiously, "So, what do you think constitutes reliability?"

After a moment of contemplation, Iselin replied, "Then let's wait for the true slime kingdom to be born."

"Only a true king who can establish order in the swamp is worthy of my offering of elven knowledge and loyalty, and worthy of a solid alliance between the tree spirits and him."

Viola chuckled, "It seems you think quite highly of that Slime King."

Iselin was taken aback, then fell silent.

Indeed, if someone had told her a few years ago that slimes could become kings, she would have thought it was just an absurd story made up by some impoverished bard to make money for drinks.

And now, she actually believes that a slime has the qualities of a king.

"Alright, the little lord is here. Go and greet him," Viola said, turning to leave.

“Aren’t you coming with me to greet them?” Iselin asked.

After all, the other party was a formal visit from a "king," and it would seem somewhat impolite for the lord not to show up.

Viola waved her hand, her face showing a "please spare me" expression.

"That's so tiring. You have to say so many polite things and hypocritically flatter each other. Just thinking about it gives me a headache."

"Just say I'm doing important meditation, or I'm sleeping, whatever excuse you have will do."

Iserin wanted to try to persuade her again, but Viola's spirit had already quickly dissipated in the moonlight.

She could only shake her head helplessly.

She summoned Old Bloom, who was on night watch, and then she and Old Bloom went together to the main entrance of the dungeon leading to the treant territory.

They had only been there a short time when they heard the sound of wings flapping coming from inside the passage.

Immediately afterwards, Chen Yu, riding on the back of the small car, flew out of the dark passage and landed lightly on the soft grass in front of Iselin with a "plop".

“Welcome, Your Majesty.” Iserlyn bowed gracefully, and old Bloom also bowed slightly beside her.

Chen Yu swayed slightly in return, and then, guided by Iserline, arrived at her mushroom-shaped wooden house built under a tree.

Inside the cabin, Iserline didn't waste time with pleasantries and went straight to the point, explaining the difficulties she encountered in building the "Rune Oak Guardian".

"The properties of the magic leaf do not match?"

Chen Yu couldn't help but mutter to himself.

The magical leaves currently being mass-produced in the territory are all of the earth element, which does seem to be a bad match for oak trees.

But in other words, if he can draw magical leaves of the wood element, perhaps Iselin can create a real rune oak guardian.

This is undoubtedly good news for Chen Yu.

Wood-type talismans—Xu Xuantian has tons of those, as many as he wants. He'll go back and look for them…

So he decided to stay in the tree spirit's territory first, and his consciousness returned to the Void Profound Heaven, where he went to make purchases overnight.

……

Eternal Night Territory. A cold mist permeated the pitch-black cemetery, where a few black crows perched on branches, occasionally letting out a few hoarse cries.

Suddenly, one of the black crows seemed to be attracted by the commotion under the tree. It tilted its head and looked down with its amber eyes, in which it saw two figures sitting beside the coffin.

A large amount of loose soil was piled up next to the tombstone, looking like freshly dug soil. There were also a few earthworms mixed in with the soil, which had been accidentally cut in two by a shovel.

“I say, Kamishir, it’s time to meet an old friend, why are you so distracted?”

The speaker was a pale-faced nobleman dressed in old clothes that still vaguely revealed their former elegance.

He was carefully taking out a slightly damp and wilted cigarette from a rusty metal cigarette holder.

Then he nudged Kazimierz, who was sitting next to him, with his elbow and handed him one as well.

Camishel took the cigarette, held it between his fingers, and said wistfully, "Zoran, how long has it been since we last talked? It seems like it was ten years ago."

"Hehe, you have a good memory."

The vampire nobleman named Zoran grinned, revealing sharp teeth. "Ever since I accidentally offended that petty Salazar, I haven't dared to wake up. I've been hiding in the coffin, pretending to be dead, trying to outlive him..."

He was halfway through his sentence when he instinctively reached for a match to light his cigarette, only to find nothing.

He muttered to himself, "Oh damn, I forgot, while I was asleep, it seems like my treasured box of matches got gnawed by rats!"

Frustrated, he rummaged through his pockets and pulled out an empty matchbox with a hole bitten in it.

This made him so angry that he wanted to throw away his precious cigarette, but after hesitating for a moment, he reluctantly put it back, and could only grab his messy blond hair in even more frustration.

Looking at his embarrassed appearance, Kazimir unconsciously recalled the green gel in his mind... His Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily, and he quietly swallowed.

Compared to that ultimate enjoyment, the moldy cigarette in Zoran's hand was as worthless as dirt.

A silence lingered between the two vampire nobles for a while, broken only by the occasional cawing of black crows and the mournful sound of the wind blowing across the tombstones.

Finally, Casimir seemed to have made up his mind and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Zoran, do you think smoking... is bad?"

Upon hearing this, Zoran laughed as if he had heard something amusing, and patted Kazimierz on the shoulder: "It's only been ten years, and you've started to speak in such a roundabout way."

He waved the cigarette in his hand, his tone carrying the pride of an addict: "This is not bad at all, this is an unparalleled enjoyment, a rare comfort in a long, desolate life."

"If I were to go back and see Salazar's perpetually sullen face, that would be truly terrible!"

After saying that, as if to prove the value of this "enjoyment," he picked up the limp cigarette again, held it to his nose, and sniffed it with relish.

“You have no idea, this is absolutely unparalleled, even if…”

Before he could finish speaking, as if irritated by the stale smell of tobacco, he suddenly bent over and coughed violently, as if he were coughing up his lungs.

It took him a long time to catch his breath. He opened his palm, and the silk handkerchief he was holding was stained with dark red, sticky blood clots.

It was obviously caused by smoking.

He couldn't help but complain, "I told you I couldn't go to sleep with this phlegm stuck in my throat. It's been stuck for years before I finally coughed it up."

As he spoke, he nudged Camishil with his elbow again, "What big thing have you been up to with that Salazar guy lately? You look radiant, you must have drunk a lot of virgin blood."

Casimir paused for a moment, feeling a deep longing for the green gel tugging at his heart like tiny claws, making him unbearably itchy.

Finally, a thought struck him, and he said, "I recently discovered something that's infinitely better than your lousy cigarettes. Once you've tried it, you'll never forget the taste."

"So, how about coming with me?"

Zoran curled his lip, scoffing at his words.

"Alright, that concludes our pleasant chat."

He rolled over and lay back down in the ornate velvet-lined sarcophagus, stretched comfortably, then placed his hands on his lower abdomen, peacefully closed his eyes, and prepared to continue his long period of feigning death.

"Goodnight, my dear Casimir. Remember to fill the soil back up for me, make sure it's completely filled, and maybe even plant a fresh white rose in it..."

After he finished speaking, he received no response for a long time, and opened his eyes again with doubt.

His gaze fell on the edge of the coffin and saw that Camishil had not only not left, but was also silently communicating with a blood bat.

After the blood bat flew away, Zoran put his hands behind his head and teased, "Wow, you're really a busy man. You don't even have time to bury a hole right now."

Kamishir glanced at him and said, "Those Stoneborn have discovered the fissure and will probably be exploring it soon."

"Lord Salazar has sent me to the swamp again to lure the undead into attacking the goblins."

Zoran shrugged. "Who cares? What stoneborn, what undead? Who cares? I only care if my precious coffin is comfortable enough, and if I can get a good smoke when I wake up next time."

"Remember to bring some cigarettes next time you come, otherwise I won't be willing to open the door for you."

Kazimir ignored his joke and pondered before speaking again: "Zoran, I'm serious, that stuff... once you've taken a hit, you'll never forget it."

"Aren't you really going to come with me and see it for yourself?"

When Zoran saw him emphasize it again, it didn't seem fake, and a sense of curiosity was piqued in him.

After thinking about it for a moment, he wanted to see what it was that made Kamishir so concerned.

"Alright, alright, since you've put it that way, I'll go with you."

……

Dawn breaks in the Tree Spirit's territory.

The morning light, like fine golden sand, filtered through the windowpane and gently fell upon the clean wooden floor.

On the desk next to him, the candle had burned out, leaving only a little bit of wax that hadn't solidified. Chen Yu finished printing the last leaf and handed it to Iserline, who was sitting next to him.

Iserene stroked the magical leaf in her palm and indeed felt a strong sense of natural vitality within it.

Moreover, the five magical leaves stacked on the side all seemed to have different patterns.

To be able to produce so many magical leaves in one night is unimaginable for a mage skilled in crafting magical scrolls.

This also suggests that the slime king in front of her seems to be a master of scroll making.

Amazing.

Is this enough?

Chen Yu's words brought Iserline back to her senses. She nodded and said, "That's enough. If you are interested, you can come with me to bestow the coronation rune upon the Oak Guardian."

(End of this chapter)