Impurity Expulsion

"Yeah, I messed up."

"May I see your slimes?"

He considered the ups and downs but the Fluctu Potion was too good to give up just for some information. He pulled out all his condensed balls of slimes and the few that were unraveled on his body to protect him. He told her about how they can learn skills and he can control them with his mind although they don't exactly communicate. He simply makes them aware of his wishes and they'll do it if they can.

"It only took one point to tame one of these slimes? They are heavy," she said, clutching one in her hand and dropping it for a second. He was surprised she could even hold one up, it took him months of constant training and getting used to to get all these. Getting used to carrying the weight of one took him at least two full days when he first came.

"Don't stronger creatures take more to tame? How strong are you?"

"I tamed these a while back, but since the slimes were so much less intelligent, it was easy despite the overwhelming strength they had over me."

He told her everything he knew without revealing anything about god and a little while later they both left, Zeeth happily holding a spatial pouch tied around his wrist and Rolas beaming about all the new information she got. He left her with as many samples of his slimes skills, some gems and greystones, some molten and blackened versions of them, and a ton of water from Leaf.

Page and Gror were talking, Gror showing Page a few little metal trinkets and how they were made. One was spewing out some strange dark mist to the ground and created a tiny stone golem out of the floor. It crackled with electricity when Zeeth came out and exploded but the golem stayed around, stumbling around until it eventually wore itself and the mana out and crumbled to the floor again, lifeless. Rolas rushed back and locked herself in the room to conduct her experiments.

'Zeeth, expel the muck I have cleaned out.' Black suddenly said and he felt the urge to use the bathroom instantly. For the past two weeks since Black was absorbed into his body he was spending every second siphoning out the 'muck' in his body through ejection, usually through excretion.

Black could make the muck come out through his pores or anywhere that's connected to his major mana and blood veins but excretion is the easiest and most efficient. He tried expelling the waste from his hands before but the pain and the nasty smell leftover on his hand was too much. The cleansing was a slow, step-by-step process so he couldn't tell how much it was affecting his body, but the Black assured that his body was improving, bit by bit each time he expelled the waste so he simply went along with it.

'How much longer until this whole thing is done?' Zeeth asked, rushing to the bathroom for the fifth time that day.

'Not for a long time. Your body is more full with this stuff than any host I have had before, and it is even harder when I don't have control of the body.'

He left the bathroom quickly to escape the smell and saw Gror pointing at a man haggling with a vendor, trying to explain something to Page. he walked closer and heard Gror saying, "...definitely him, it's C.M.! what should we do?!"

Zeeth rushed ahead at hearing the name, the person who had trapped him in a mountain maze for so long and sent countless robots to stop him. Page saw him running back to them and explained, "that old guy over there is C.M., what do you want to do?"

"Do you wanna say hi?"

"No, we shouldn't do it here. Knowing his personality, he will cause a scene anywhere he feels like it," said Page.

"What kinda scene? Like sticking another mind-controlling bug on our backs?"

"Oh, that was being very conspicuous of him. He is usually a lot more… let's say exciting." and Zeeth knew he was thinking about his past. He wondered what C.M. did in Page's memories.

"What does C.M. stand for anyway?"

"I dunno. Cool Man?"

"Oh man, I hope not."

C.M. finished arguing and took a large, heavy bag and handed over a bag of money, stomping away as the vendor angrily counted the money. "Let's go ask what the vendor just sold him," Page said, already walking to the vendor.

The little shop was covered in armor and weapons, little metal pieces, and tools for battle. Zeeth picked up a gleaming sword and swung it around a bit but the vendor, looking at his bland brown robe and messy hair, yelled, "get yer hands offa mah products! Ya mess with it, ya pay fer it!"

He put the sword back down in its wooden barrel angrily and Page tried to talk to him, "Sir, we would like to know how much this sword costs." pointing at the sword Zeeth just picked up.

"A hun'ned Styrs! No less!" he yelled, without even glancing at the sword.

This time it was Gror who angrily yelled, "this word is as weak as my left buttcheek! The blade is about to fall right out of its hilt any second, you're selling defective products for a hundred Styrs?"

"What do yer kno- oh, yer a dwarf. Yeah, I was kiddin' 'bout the hun'ned, I didn't expect anyone ter buy it.'' He looked between Gror and Page, one a dwarf, known for their competency in metalwork, and one a well-groomed, sharp-eyed youngster who looked sure to have money. He said to Zeeth, who he now noticed was actually rather handsome and could've been a noble in disguise, "Sorry fer the attitude. My last customer was a maddening handful."

"Oh, how come?"

"The sun of a gun wanted ter buy a hundred bolts and fiddy cords of electrical wires fer just fiddy styrs, the man wasn't leaving 'till i sold 'em either."

"Did he buy anything else?"

"Yeah, a couple o' full body armor and a few of them broken swords down there. Was glad he wann'ed them swords so I agreed to sell those bolts and cords fer seventy-five instead. Absolutely mad to want them fer fiddy though. Now, that sword, as you said,'' he said to Gror, "is defective. Not fer sale, just fer looks. Was about to sell 'em to anyone who wann'ed some materials to work with."

"Did he tell you what the things were for?"

"No, he just yelled something about his greatest masterpiece and how I was limitin' him but nothin' much. Are y'all here to buy or ask?"

"I would like to buy the defective swords, then," Gror said, feeling the metal and tossing it between his hands. "How much for one?"

"Erm, 10 styrs."

"That's cheap. What the catch?"

"I just ask fer one thing. When yer make a good sword outta this, make sure to spread the information that I sold you the materials, eh?"

"Sure, what's your name?"

"Warty. I've got me own little store down in the Junk Lane, tell 'em to look fer a Warty's Weaponry, I'm out 'ere tryna spread mah name."

"Deal. I'll take all the ones in this barrel, that should be a hundred Styrs." Gror exchanged the one hundred styrs through a card exchange and tried to pick up all the swords but Warty gave him a large bag for "free advertisement" since his store name was on the bag. The ten broken swords lightly clinked in the bag as they walked away.

"What were the chances that we met C.M. here? Do you want to see what he's doing?"

"Do you even know where he is?"

"No, not at all. I lost him in the crowd."

"Then let's just get back to the merchant's cart and leave soon, I want to get back home. I miss my family." Gror said, reminiscing.

Somewhere unknown, deep, deep underground, lanky, humanoid creatures stood, subserviently around a small circular table carved out of the rocks that made the floor and cave walls. A small pit of bubbling lava sat to the side where the lanky creatures were throwing in skeletons. They stood with hunched backs and pale skin color, the thin and frail-looking body did not portray their strength at all.

The table jiggled a little before it formed into a single spike-covered head, made out of whatever stone the table was made from. It had a helmet that covered most of the features and the entire head was a single shade of red, it was simply whatever the table was made out of. Its mouth moved and a voice boomed out from it, the table replicating whatever the man was doing, "I request to visit the Council of Five Kings. Karkov has been taken hostage, he is being questioned using human potions."