Content warning: Some implied gore at near the end of the chapter. Skip everything past the parenthetical comment if you don't want to know.

 

Fey watched battle footage of Amethyst’s next scheduled opponent in the tournament and banged her head against the table of her tree fort. “We’re screwed. Completely screwed with a stripped nut.[i]”

“Don’t be so neg—” In the video, the pet ate its opponent whole. “Yeah, you’re dead,” Sirena finished.

 

For the finals stage of the pet tournament, hundreds of thousands of entrants had been whittled down to one hundred twenty-eight of the deadliest creatures in the game. Most of said creatures were of legendary and mythical rarity, with unique powers on top of what could only be described as unfair base stat multipliers. The very glaring exception to the rarity rule was Amethyst; Fey did not need to check whether there was a more common pet still in the tournament because slimes were the most common monster in the entire game. Even making it to the finals had massively boosted slimes’ popularity as a pet, and those with even rudimentary monster taming skills were making a tidy profit. Mimi had been keeping an eye on the forums where there was rampant speculation on the development of Amethyst’s overpowered abilities, and the Poison Slime ability had already been replicated, but so far no one had figured out the mechanism behind what was thought to be her “self-buffing” powers. Many players had chosen to raise their slimes in their own way rather than try to emulate Amethyst, and many interesting abilities had developed in response to their environment as they levelled up.

 

While the preliminary stage of the tournament had been based on randomly matched battles, the finals brackets were carefully assigned by the game company so that the knockout rounds would have maximum excitement, with the predicted favourites meeting later in the brackets. Clearly, Amethyst’s anticlimactic victories were not considered desirable or profitable, as her opponent seemed hand-picked to knock her out of the running in the first round.

The beast in question was a juvenile venom dragon. At the level 60 cap of the range they were competing in, it could not yet fly, but it had unlocked a breath attack that appeared to spray very concentrated acid combined with a fast-acting toxin that could then penetrate after the victim’s skin had been dissolved. It also had teeth and claws as long as Amethyst’s entire body (minus the bubble-arm), natural dragonscale armour that repelled both physical and magical attacks, and was naturally immune to all poison effects.

No matter how much she trained Double Membrane and Whip, Fey could not see Amethyst being able to stand up to the dragon in a physical fight, and with her poison abilities useless, she had no other way of dealing damage. Fey looked over hopefully at Mimi, who was known to regularly pull out genius tactics that made their party far more effective than it had any right to be.

Mimi paused in thought, then shook her head.

Fey sighed. “We had a good run,” she said to Amethyst.

Amethyst squeaked confusedly. (“Why? Dragons aren’t scary.”)

“What do you mean, dragons aren’t scary? They’re the archetype of undefeatable monster!”

Amethyst squeaked again.

Fey blinked and looked around at her party members as if to verify what she had heard.

“Stop pretending you know what she’s saying,” Sirena snapped. “What kind of pets haven’t developed human speech by level 20, let alone—”

 

<Amethyst secreted dragonsbane poison.>

 

Fey snatched up her pet; not being a dragon, she was unaffected by the dragonsbane. “Guys! She-! What??” She looked over at Mimi. “Did you—?”

Mimi shook her head, frowning in confusion. “Dragonsbane is only available from the deep jungle, and no one has transported it successfully past the Oré Mountains yet.” The sniper had looked into this solution for the upcoming match, but even Ivory Exchange trades were geographically restricted for items that were not yet available in the area.

Fey stared at Amethyst, trying to puzzle out where the slime had gotten hold of the rare herb to copy.

Seeing her owner’s confusion, Amethyst squeaked helpfully. This was one of the very few squeaks that Fey had assigned a definite meaning to, as all of the pets tended to chant it repeatedly before and after a tour of Leandriel’s magically enchanted belt pouch. (Loot-land! Loot-land! Loot-land!)

 

“Oh…” Fey said in slow realization of how much she may have inadvertently cheated in the game. “Mimi, could you go through Amethyst’s list of potions and poisons and mark off the ones you didn’t add?”

The sniper opened the list and made mark after mark after mark.

Fey’s head hit the table again. “Could you calculate how much money I owe Leandriel?”

Mimi shook her head. “Most of these don’t have a market value.”

“What does that mean? They must be worth a lot.”

Sirena rolled her eyes. “They’re not worth ‘nothing’, they’re ‘priceless’. Get it?”

“Oh…”

 

<Fey: Hey, Leandriel? I owe you a lot of money.>

<Leandriel: Are you referring to the money I gave you for Magic? Given that I never returned him, I think it is only fair you keep it.>

<Fey: No, not that, way more money than that.>

 

<Leandriel: Kevin, I would like to report an inadvertent leak of unreleased items.>

<KevinO: What? Weren’t you just playing casually with your girlfriend last week? You’ve only been back for a few days and haven’t had any player contact.>

<Leandriel: Yes, about that…>

 

<Match End>

<Winner: Amethyst>

 

(Yes, the author did indeed just skip over a fight with a freaking dragon. It wasn’t much of a fight. There was a lot of sneezing involved.)

 

Somewhere in a VirtualRealities meeting room, tournament organizers shuffled and reshuffled possible matchups in frustration.

 

◊◊◊

 

Arwyn was at work on Tuesday afternoon when her phone buzzed with a text message.

 

Leander: Are you available this Friday evening?

 

The question was somewhat odd, given that the two of them had been making plans to meet each other daily rather than several days in advance. She did not need to check her calendar before answering, as one of her main goals in life was to keep it as empty as possible.

 

Arwyn: Yes, I get off work at the usual time. Why?

Leander: I would like to take you out on a date.

 

Arwyn had her own small private office, but it was separated from the hallway by only transparent glass. She ducked her head behind her computer monitor to hide any silly facial expressions she might be making.

 

Arwyn: Where are we going?

Leander: I have been instructed to tell you only that you should wear the outfit that Leah chose for you the other day.

 

Arwyn generally hated surprises of all kinds, but between Leander’s ability to exceed all normal expectations and the fact that her best friend since childhood had clearly had a role in planning the outing, she was fairly sure she would have fun. At the very least, it would be a reason to wear the cute dress and shoes Sirena had made her buy, which – as expected of any outfit Sirena put together – had not been cheap.

 

Arwyn: I’ll be ready.

 

◊◊◊

 

<Fantasia Battle Pet League, Finals Round>

<Amethyst/Fey E’lan vs Rush/Trigger D>

 

Holding her diminutive pet close to her chest, Fey stared apprehensively across the battleground. Amethyst’s opponent for the second match of the finals was a trol’fant, a beast modelled after an African elephant but given the monstrous regenerative abilities of a troll. In addition to a huge health pool and regenerative capabilities that outpaced even the strongest poison effect in Amethyst’s repertoire, it was wearing plate armour that boosted the already impressive defence of its thick hide.

 

In contrast to her owner and her previous dispirited appearances in the tournament, Amethyst was positively brimming with eagerness, her bubble-arm wriggling like an excited cat’s tail. She was also chanting a particularly sharp-sounding squeak over and over.

 

Wincing, Fey looked back to where her party was seated in a nearby section of the spectator stands, hoping that one of them had come up with a different strategy from their current plan of action in the few minutes since they had separated.

Sirena and Blade waved encouragingly, with no clue that she was asking for ideas. Mimi simply gave a minute shake of her head, causing Fey to sigh and resign herself.

“Okay Amethyst, let’s do this.” She placed the slime down within the match boundaries.

Across the arena, the demon bowman that was her opponent gave his trol’fant a pat on the shoulder before it lumbered into the ring.

 

<5>

<4>

<3>

<2>

<1>

<Match start>

 

The trol’fant wasted no time moving forward, intending to trample Amethyst and tank any poison damage she might deal in return. Amethyst did secrete a layer of poisonous slime as the elephant approached, appearing to be preparing to use the exact same strategy that had served her well for many matches but seemed doomed to failure now.

 

Only when the trol’fant was within reach of Amethyst’s extended bubble-arm did the audience get a glimpse of a new ability. The sharp crack of a miniature sonic boom sounded over the lower thump of the elephant’s footfalls, and the narrow line of Amethyst’s vine-like bubble-arm could be seen connecting the top of her head with a small hole in its chest armour.

Amethyst used her anchor point to lift into the air, defeating the trol’fant’s charge by virtue of going along for the ride. The trol’fant stopped to use its trunk to reach for the slime, and Amethyst extended her bubble-arm until she touched down on the ground again.

With a Whip in the opposite direction, the trol’fant’s chest plate was ripped off and went flying to hit the magical barrier protecting the audience.

 

Amethyst’s custom armour was at once simple and ingenious in a way that only someone with a deep obsession with crafting and functional design could produce. The bodysuit component was flexible enough to accommodate size changes and permeable enough to allow her secretions to pass through while reinforcing her already impressive physical defence from Double Membrane. There was a metallic cap over her bubble that flexed when she transformed its shape, but hardened afterwards to increase the damage of Whip. Finally, the bottom of the suit was enchanted with adhesion magic that allowed the slime to attach extremely securely to any surface she was in contact with.

Compared to any mass-increasing magic that would max out at a few hundred times Amethyst’s diminutive mass, the adhesion magic allowed Amethyst to use Whip with the weight of the arena behind her. She took cheerful advantage of this fact, ripping off another piece of the trol’fant’s armour while it attempted to step on her as she milled about under its feet. She was not particularly fast, but with a combination of hopping, rolling, and lassoing herself around, she was able to stay under her opponent where its own bulk hindered its vision.

 

Fey winced as Amethyst finished removing the majority of the trol’fant’s armour, bracing herself for what was to come.

 

(The author really doesn’t want to have to add a gore tag to this story, so we’re just going to put some abstract explanations and allow the reader to visualize or not visualize the logical result as they prefer.)

 

Amethyst’s method of removing armour involved shaping her bubble into a thin, sharp projectile designed for penetration for the initial Whip attack, then reshaping it into a wide, backwards hooked cross shape as she Whipped the other way. The technique was also quite effective for flesh.

 

With its insane regenerative abilities, the trol’fant could heal from even critical hits, which in reality meant that it could bleed many times more than the maximum volume of blood in its body, as well as lose the same organs multiple times.

 

The party’s preparation of this particular match had been to teach Amethyst the details of elephant anatomy, in particular where gaps in its ribcage were and where one would theoretically access its vital organs if one were standing directly under such an elephant.

 

The squeak that Amethyst had been enthusiastically chanting translated to her new favourite word, ‘eviscerate’.

 

The match took over an hour to come to its conclusion.

<Bleed has reached level 9!>

<Bleed has reached level 10!>

<Match End>

<Winner: Amethyst>

 

By the end of the match, over ninety percent of the arena floor had been blurred out over the broadcast footage and at least a third of the in-person spectators had left. Of the ones who had toughed it out, very few looked like they were actually enjoying themselves.

 

Fey quickly poured a bottle of water over Amethyst as the slime squelched victoriously out of the flooded arena. Thankfully, both the slime and her armour were extremely easy to clean and just the water was enough to return her to her pristine state.

She escaped the arena as soon as she could, activating her Shadow Cloak ability to disguise her features. Her fame value had been steadily rising throughout the tournament but was now skyrocketing into well over a hundred thousand.

---

[i] The author conducted an informal survey as to whether a footnote would be required for this reference and the answer was sometimes yes so here it is. Fey is referring to the unpleasant situation where screws, nuts, and bolts degrade in shape or with rusting so that the tools designed to tighten and loosen them are no longer able to gain purchase on the component in question.