“Hey, hello! Why are you alone? Did something happen?”

Another pair of cultists approached me. They must have mistaken me for that girl.

“This is not Delia!”

Aha, her name had been Delia, and ugh, they recognized too early that I was not her. I would have preferred to get closer to them. It must have been the horns...

Nevertheless, I shot in a fast sequence two firebolts at them. I expected to meet a patrol and had exercised to shoot firebolts fast, one after the other. One of them hit, but the other one was parried.

Wow, good reflexes, he parried with the spear! I was so glad that I aimed both bolts almost perfectly, and now that stupid clown repelled it! Aiming with this staff is cumbersome, as you do not point the staff at them and shoot but rather keep it at ninety degrees and aim with the movement of the hands. Or maybe there is something else entirely, and I hit only when I happen to make something right? I got the best hit rate when I did not concentrate too much on it.

I’m not sure I’ll ever make a good staff-wielder mage unless it is about clubbing them with it. But for that, I would need more muscles.

The wounded warrior screamed whilst his companion assailed me. I jumped like a flea to the side, hitting the injured warrior again with a bolt and... I almost disrobed myself. OK, I flashed them. Fuck me; I'm an idiot! If at least I had stripped myself entirely, I would now be able to see, but no, I had the robe hanging over my head!

“Flying demoness! Help!”

It would have been a ridiculously laughable situation if it hadn't been a life and death matter.

He screamed for help whilst I heard his companion stepping closer. I kept the staff in my left hand and struggled with my right hand to free my face from the robe to see something. I could pull my head partially out of it, but the damn thing was somewhere entangled, now possibly one horn pierced it, and the result was worse: I was almost half-strangling myself with it, as it was now somehow wrapped around my neck. At least I could see! A well-aimed spear was coming for my chest and would have hit me were it not for my wings. They suddenly battered the air, and the effect was that of a fifteen-meter wingspan. Like giant eagle wings, they propelled me backwards whilst a gust of wind whipped the two warriors.

However, at least one of my four wings must have been entangled in the robe. The sudden movement only strained the robe even further around my neck, and the created imbalance sent me spinning towards the floor and in an arc closer to the standing warrior.

In a panic, I shot a bolt at his face. I was now half-flying, half-falling towards the warrior, head first, with the staff high in my left hand. It hit the ground in the movement, making a screeching noise and spinning me even more. I almost dropped it. It was not only that I could not fly straight, but it gave me also a spin on my axis that I desperately fought against, or else I would fall on my back.

I don't know what shocked him more. The screeching sound, seeing my horns coming towards him or the firebolt to his face, but he gave up and started to run. I crushed on the right side, but I still sent another bolt towards the second warrior who was trying to stand. He had seen that I had difficulties and was trying to make use of them.

My bolt partially missed, partially splashed against his shoulder with little effect. He charged me, screaming at the other warrior, and in panic, I flapped my wings again. That sent me further skidding on the stones. I flailed my legs wildly, trying to stand. The strong wind gust almost stopped him. I shot another bolt at his face making full contact this time and flapped my wings again as he was too close to me. That sent me further in my spiral flight.

In my jump-skid on the humid stones, I hit something hard with the head.

It was the other warrior. He fell over my head, his sword hitting my staff. All I saw were bloodied scraps that were now covering my vision as I was falling on my back. Fresh blood splashed over my face, and he made a strange sound. I felt his left hand on my left leg as he tried to balance himself.

I flapped my wings again, trying to disengage. The strong push pressed me hard against him and forced my head to the side. He whined. He must have dropped the sword, I heard it dangling on the stones, and he fell even heavier over me, pressing me to the ground. More gore splashed over my face. I smelled shit, blood, piss and … I don't know what. Bile?

He moaned in pain and tried to move, but my horns were entangled in his lower abdomen. That strained my neck even more. I screamed, getting a taste of the gore in the process and dropped the staff, then tried to grasp him with my hands to push him to the side; however, he was too heavy for me. Something stuck me in the lower parts. It was a feeble but painful hit. Then another. I think he must have retrieved a knife and was stabbing my thighs and abdomen. Each cut pained like hell. I screamed again, spitting gore, and shot bolt after bolt into the flesh mass that kept me pinned to the ground. Luckily I don't need the staff to send bolts. His left hand blocked my right hand. I shot them with my left hand. Probably most of them missed, but a couple struck home. After a while, he ceased to move; only his bowel liquids continued to trickle over me. I tried again to push him to the side but could not.

I heard a sloshing sound and felt the little slime touching my left foot. What is it trying to do?

I ignored the slime and tried again to push that mass away from me, to no avail. I wanted to shoot him down, blast him until it disappeared. That would only waste mana and take hours to free me.

I stopped the rage bout with some difficulty trying to think what to do. Suddenly I had a vision. A strange picture as if looking through a film of water. Was that a foot? My foot? Yes, that was my foot, and behind, further behind, something moved. Oh fuck, that was the other warrior raising hesitatingly on his feet.

Is this real? Is this telepathy? Can slimes project their vision?

I felt desperation. The slime’s desperation. The warrior was standing now, resting on his spear. Then he advanced towards me. He made one step, then another.

Huch! I am pinned under this mountain of flesh and cannot move. He just needs to push his spear down a couple of times.

I tried to flap my wings, but they were entangled under me and only flapped weakly against the ground. Yes, it made some wind, but that was all. Swinging and flailing my legs did not help. At the moment when he was going to hit me, I sent him a firebolt. I had to rely on what the little slime was letting me see; it was difficult to appreciate the distance; it was not a well-aimed bolt, so I was very happy to see it did hit him. It was a hit in the lower abdomen as he was almost above my hand. His spear still jabbed my thigh, but it had no power. He screamed and fell to his knees. I shot him another bolt. He fell like a sack over the other idiot on top of me, emptying my lungs of air with a forced croak.

I tried again desperately to get out of there but could move even less than before. I was almost suffocating under the mass. Fuck, what do I do now?

Think. I need to think. I was safe now for the next... how many minutes? Seconds? Did somebody hear our fight?

All I could do was flail and kick with my legs and left hand as the right was now blocked by the second warrior. I was feeling dizzy and tired.

Heal, wait for mana to replenish, then heal again.

What do I do?

I tried desperately to escape from under the heavy weight by swinging my legs, but it did not work. Cala would simply push them aside with one hand. Me? No chance.

I heard a noise. Oh fuck, somebody is coming! Should I play dead? But what if they stab me? Just to be sure? What if there are some animals that start eating me? My little slime was not sending me any images anymore; it was probably too taxing for it.

Oh, that was a sloshing noise! Was that my slime? No, it is still there at my foot, not where the noise came from... and it tries to... yes, it tries to send me reassuring feelings. Can it be?

Oh fuck, more slimes, there are slimes here! Uh, something heavy climbed over me. Uh, oh, it is a heavy slime. Now I was hard-pressed! I was expecting any moment my thorax to implode.

It was tough to abstain from shooting, feeling those slimes slipping over me. I almost had no air to breathe. I could not move, being almost entirely covered by slimes. Will I be eaten? Or, if not, are they wise enough to let me breathe? I am not a slime; I need air!?

It took them less than half a minute to free me. If need be, I could have held my breath this long, but there was no need. Finally, I could sit and look around. I was surrounded by slimes who were busy digesting... ah, cleaning the place.

Speaking of clean, I was cleaned like probably never in my whole life before. I mean Andy. OK, the back was not entirely neat, as it had been pinned to the cavern's floor, but the rest was squeak-clean. As I was sitting now, I did not even bother with the slimes that came to clean my back. Ahm, actually to eat the gore that was still hanging on it. As afraid as I was thirty seconds ago, as calm I was now. Tired calm.

I watched the small slime still clinging to my foot.

“You did call them, eh? And you are soothing me?”

It was again smug.

“You got yourself a familiar.”

“A familiar?”

“Yes. This is a magical bond between you and Bubble.”

“Bubble? You named it?”

The slime bubbled whilst I was talking with myself. Does it know I am talking about him? I healed myself and stood up. The robe had been partially decomposed, but I could not be angry at the slimes. I undressed the remaining scraps, finally freeing my wing in the process, ignoring the slimes nibbling at my legs.

“I'll never ever wear a robe again. Not in this lifetime! How could I be so stupid?”

“You almost strangled yourself! Are you sure you don't want to let me lead?”

“You screamed all the time in my mind. That was not helpful!”

“Yeah, it could be that I panicked too; sorry for that.”

Lucky me, there were no witnesses to my fabulous fight. I sighed, looking for some panties and trousers in my inventory. It was such a mess that I would have to pick them out, but I was afraid the slimes would clean them too much if I put something down.

I watched the small smug slime:

“You haven't seen anything!! Eh?”

It bubbled. Does this bubble mean anything? OK, she will hopefully not be able to tell anybody what she saw. There were no trousers in my inventory box, but I could recuperate the trousers of one of the warriors. It has been cleaned, and the material was partially weakened, but I could cut a pair of shorts out of it.

No. Too large. No way I’ll wear that.

In the end, I went for a mini skirt. A longer skirt that I cut to make a mini-skirt out of it. In no way will I let some material in the future entangle me. Yeah, in a fight, they might see my panties, so what!?

Instead of a blouse, I went for a kind of bra. It was covering well enough my underdeveloped breasts. I found a belt and strapped my inventory box to the belt. Better than at my thigh. I kept only the shoes from before.

OK, I lost enough time with the last fight. Most of the slimes, meanwhile, had dispersed from the cavern. Unfortunately, I cannot use them as scouts, and my little slime seems able to show me something only when it has a direct connection to me. Maybe this will improve with time, but this is it now.

I flapped my wings to check if everything was ok. I examined them for a moment. No butterflies do not have four wings; are these rather dragonfly wings? I never had the occasion to see how my wings would mature, and now I was closer to that case than ever. Two bigger wings above and two smaller and more elongated lower wings. It was strange to see how good control I could have over them; even if they did not have muscles or nothing visible the way I understand muscles, I could bend them or use them almost as a member. Almost like a leg or a hand. How does this work?

I flapped my wings, and I was raised in the air! Not as elegantly as Flo did at the time when she was a flying fairy, but similar to it. Well, I am heavier. I grinned: soon I’ll be able to fly!

I touched my horns. Sharp, seven to eight centimetres horns. OK, not ideal to use as a weapon, but I got my first horn-kill. I grimaced, remembering the fight. I shuddered. Oh well, try to forget it, Dolores, try to forget it.

Untangled, equipped, with the broad belt over my naked belly, I raised the staff and hesitated if to follow the tunnel or not. It was pitch black; there was no more luminescent moss illuminating it. Only the torches that the two had carried made now two flickering spots of light where they’d dropped them.

“I know some spells to make light. Let me take the lead at least until you learn the spells.”

“No, I think you were right. You are better at fighting as a mage. I'll let you do the next fights.”