The next day.
Golden autumn, with the sky a brilliant, cloudless blue. The white steed pulled the carriage across a meadow blooming with purple flowers, the wind fresh and crisp.
The ponytailed girl sat on the wooden board outside the carriage, her body swaying with the bumps of the ride. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, looking bored. After a few moments, she leaned toward the carriage, calling inside:
"Yeats, can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"Does your father... really like to eat? You know, like... all the time?" Gray laughed, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Inside the carriage, Yeats, who had been focused on reading, didn't even blink.
Oh, we're doing puns now, are we?
Gray's question played on his name—Yeats, which sounded a lot like "eats"—and as a self-proclaimed food enthusiast, it was an easy shot at him.
Yeats closed his book and revealed the cover.
"The Guide to Otherworldly Customs"
This book had been left in the carriage by the previous owner.
It mainly introduced the customs and habits of the various races on this continent, such as elves, dwarves, half-orcs, and the always energetic dragonborn.
The book was vast in its scope, but it had been largely ignored for a long time—until it was added to the church's list of banned books, at which point its notoriety skyrocketed.
"Definitely on the 'must-read' list," Yeats muttered sarcastically.
Gray, still seeming quite bored, began tapping on the carriage again, talking as she did. "Yeats, does this pure white Roland warhorse have a name?"
Gray was referring to the majestic horse pulling the carriage. It was purebred, snow-white, and looked quite elegant. It had been well cared for by Farkas.
"Radish."
Yeats answered with complete nonsense.
"You could also call it Hesul, Toret, or Golden Ship."
In reality, it was named Radish. Strangely, it seemed like many horses were named after vegetables—much like people in Yeats's past life being called "John" or "Michael."
A voice from outside the carriage cut through the conversation. "Young master, we're approaching the hill region. We'd best walk from here."
Yeats stepped down from the carriage and saw Farkas holding the reins in one hand, his sword sheathed at his side, while Gray seemed lost in thought, playing with a glinting handaxe.
"Nice handaxe, must be worth quite a bit of coin," Yeats remarked, inspecting it.
"I stole it from a bandit. Didn't cost me a penny," Gray flashed a toothy grin.
"Something's coming." Farkas said seriously, his sword sliding out with a clang. "Young master, stay alert."
A petrified goat came into view, charging toward them with iron-like plating covering its body. Its curved horns were polished silver.
This monster was different. It didn't have flesh; it was a metal construct, feeding off minerals. Its primary attack was ramming and kicking—hardly a deadly threat to anyone at the first circle of strength.
Their luxury carriage, however, caught its attention. With a thunderous charge, the stone-like goat headed straight for them.
Gray whistled.
"Watch this, Yeats. My contractual fee isn't for nothing!"
She hurled her handaxe with pinpoint precision, the blade spinning through the air, embedding itself deep between the cracks of the petrified goat's iron plating.
Thud.
The beast staggered, emitting a sharp, metallic screech before collapsing with a loud boom, sending dust swirling.
Farkas couldn't help but shout in admiration. "Young master, you truly recruited an outstanding bodyguard!"
Gray, looking a little irked, frowned. "Uh, shouldn't you be praising me instead of the young master?"
She was about to go retrieve her axe when Yeats suddenly pulled her back, whispering urgently, "Wait, there's more."
From the spot where the petrified goat had fallen, a small blackish mass began to twitch. It slithered toward the fallen goat, extending dark, liquid-like tendrils that wrapped around the creature's body.
"My axe!" Gray howled.
"It's a Black Pudding Slime, I think."
Farkas nodded in understanding. "It feeds on metal, secreting digestive acids that dissolve it. But it doesn't usually target humans unless they're wearing metal armor. Its interest lies in the metal creatures like the petrified goat."
Yeats nodded, analyzing the situation. "There's a mineral vein in this mountain, which allows the petrified goats to thrive. The Black Pudding Slime likely feeds on them, but it's also part of the local food chain—no wonder this area's dangerous for the likes of us."
Gray groaned. "My handaxe…"
Farkas looked concerned. "But if we want to cross here with our carriage, we'll have to deal with that slime first."
The map marked Crimson Freeze Beasts, but there was no mention of the Black Pudding Slime. Farkas was troubled, but he knew that wilderness maps were often outdated. A new map would cost ten times as much as the old one.
Attacking the Black Pudding Slime with brute force would only cause it to split into multiple smaller slimes.
Yeats glanced at the pair. "Do either of you know magic? Fireball, maybe?"
Both Farkas and Gray shook their heads awkwardly.
Really? A team with no mage? Is this how we get wiped out?
Yeats sighed and gave the order. "Gray, get a bucket of oil. Pour it over the Black Pudding Slime and then drag a line of oil here."
"Oh, got it!" Gray responded quickly, stripping off all her metal items before approaching the still-digesting slime.
The Black Pudding Slime was sluggish, not reacting to her presence right away.
With a pained look, Gray glanced at the axe still embedded in the slime. She tipped over the oil container, creating a line around the creature, then used a match to ignite it.
Boom!
The fire ignited immediately, engulfing the Black Pudding Slime in a burst of flame.
For a while, the creature lay motionless, emitting sizzling black smoke.
"Farkas, get some hot tea. Pour it on its head now."
"Tea?"
"Gelatinous monsters like the Black Pudding Slime react with hot liquids, dissolving their structure."
Yeats said seriously, "The holy water sold to low-tier adventurers by the church is mostly tea leaves. It's very effective against gelatinous monsters."
Farkas and Gray stared, shocked.
How does he know all this weird stuff?
Yeats glanced at the slumped creature and smiled. "It's a huge advantage. Plus, it helps with monster-hunting."
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After the tea had soaked the Black Pudding Slime and it ceased writhing, Gray pulled her now-melted handaxe from the goo, staring at it mournfully.
"My heart…" she muttered. "That was my favorite axe…"
Yeats grinned. "Well, we're in Morningfrost Ridge, and we won't be lacking in bandits or coastal raiders. We'll have plenty of weapons soon enough."
Farkas inspected the remains of the petrified goat, still mostly intact. "It wasn't fully digested… the slime's digestive acid wasn't strong enough."
Yeats's eyes gleamed. "Excellent. We can still use the metal."
Farkas raised an eyebrow. "Use it for what, exactly?"
"Petrified Goat Iron Teppanyaki," Yeats said nonchalantly.
Farkas: What?!
"Wait, that's the iron from a monster!" Gray exclaimed. "You can't cook with that—it'll poison the food!"
Yeats ignored her and crouched down to examine the remaining Black Pudding Slime's remains.
Gray's face paled, and she quickly tried to stop him. "You're not really going to cook with the Black Pudding Slime, are you? Just because it's named pudding doesn't mean it's edible!"
"Of course not."
Before Gray could breathe a sigh of relief, Yeats drew his cooking knife and began cutting through the slime. "I'm just extracting the natural gel for something more useful."
Gray: …What?
Yeats continued explaining, "Gelatinous monsters have unique organ structures. If you remove the excess, the gel has many uses."
Gray: Why do I even ask?
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After collecting the gel, Yeats turned to the two of them with a smile. "Let's move down the mountain and rest. I'll prepare something delicious for dinner."
Gray sighed deeply. "You're making us eat Black Pudding Slime?"
"It's Black Pudding gel," Yeats corrected. "Not the whole slime."
"It's the same thing!" Gray spun around, muttering under her breath. "You better say something, Farkas!"
Farkas gazed at the sky, his eyes glistening with tears. "Young master… is cooking again… I'm so proud of you."
Gray: I'm going to file a lawsuit for emotional distress.
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With the crisis resolved, the carriage rolled down the hill quickly, and the night slowly settled in.
In the dark forest ahead, a pair of glowing yellow eyes watched the firelight, silently following their path.