Chapter 5: The Road to the Temple of Jests

Dawn painted the sky a garish pink that would have made a classical painter retch. Ryo cracked one eye open, yawned, and almost swallowed a rebellious strand of hair that Gumi-chan had styled during the night: the slime had flattened itself on his head like a hat, leaving his hair sticking up like glowing seaweed.

"Morning, alien hairdresser." He removed the slime carefully; it let out a sleepy plop, returned to its pastel-blue shape, and promptly wrapped itself around his calf again.

Toru was stoking the campfire embers, while the three rookie bandits—Sugi, Chio, and Doi—were eating a watery, tasteless oatmeal: the budget breakfast of fledgling criminals. Yuna, on the other hand, was chewing a piece of bread with the concentration of a scholar, as though breakfast might reveal her mother's exact location.

"Today we march in earnest," Toru announced. "The temple stands beyond the Whispering-Mist Ravine."

"Comforting name," Ryo muttered while lacing his boots, still spattered with clay. "Is there also a Forest of Singing Skulls?"

"That's on the other route," Doi answered innocently.

Right. An alternate nightmare in case the first one was too Disney.

They packed up and set out. The compass pointed obstinately north, occasionally vibrating as if checking the group's pulse; each time it did, Gumi-chan glowed faintly.

The path descended between tall outcrops draped in greenish lichen. The temperature dropped, and a thin mist swirled along the ground. Ryo shivered—less from cold, more from Toru's warning.

A first brush of whispers grazed his ears—too articulate to be mere wind.

"…is watching you…" murmured one voice.

"…don't trust the compass…" hissed another.

"Well, that's new," he said softly.

Toru turned. "Stay together. The ravine's echoes repeat our own fears. Ignore them."

"Easy to say," Sugi whispered. "I think about gambling debts and it broadcasts them."

The trail shrank to a goat path carved into rock. On the right, a sheer thirty-meter drop; on the left, a slick wall. Only gasps and the occasional plop from Gumi-chan broke the silence.

Yuna, nimble as a squirrel, led the way. Ryo, less graceful, pressed his back to the wall and tried not to look down. His foot slipped; vertigo punched his gut.

Courage I, don't fail me. But the skill was on cooldown.

Gumi-chan tightened its grip, pulling him toward the rock. His boot regained purchase and the fall never happened.

"Good blob, Gumi," he exhaled. The slime flushed a proud pink.

At the end of the path, a small ledge held the remains of a fire and fresh tracks. Toru knelt. "Bandits. Recent."

Ryo eyed the rookies. Sugi raised his hands. "H-Haru never lets us into his base!"

"We just run cheap tolls," Chio added.

A whistle cut the air. Doi swung his nail-plank just in time to deflect a bolt meant for Ryo's arm. Four better-armed bandits emerged, leather armor, real swords, loaded crossbows. Their bearded leader grinned.

"What have we here? Squid squad and a retired priest."

"We're not squid," Ryo said, raising a hand, "but I do carry explosive flour if you want to spice things up."

The leader laughed. "Strip them and leave the bodies. Haru pays double for fresh prisoners."

Crossbows leveled. "Slime, your cue," Ryo whispered.

Gumi-chan slid to the leader's boots, flattened into a slick rug—the man skidded, bolt flying skyward. Toru lunged with a staff, Chio clubbed another with her bow, Ryo's panic kick doubled a third, and Sugi jammed his chipped blade into an opponent's scabbard, locking it.

A stray arrow pinged harmlessly off the clay still crusted on Ryo's cloak. Seeing their leader down, the bandits fled.

Yuna beamed. "Gumi-chan, you're amazing!" The slime glowed gold.

The fallen leader spat. "Haru will pulp you."

"Fastest way to his den?" Ryo asked. The man pointed to a stone arch in the distance. Toru knocked him out. "Saves trouble."

Beyond the arch, the trail became a rope bridge of thick cables and uneven planks. A sloppy sign read, Cross at your own risk (pay toll after). Sugi shivered. "Haru resets traps weekly—looks new."

Ryo tapped the first plank; it held. The compass buzzed: hollow board. "Which one?" he muttered.

"Fourth," said Chio. "It was three last week," Doi countered.

"Gumi-chan, load test." The slime hopped ahead. On the fourth plank: click. A spiked wheel sprang out; the slime glued itself to the axle, freezing the trap.

They crossed, skipping multiples of four. At the far side the compass flashed: progress. "Progress without broken bones—excellent," Ryo said.

The forest opened onto weather-worn stone pillars and, at the center, the crumbling temple: shattered pediment, faded frescoes, battered metal gate. Above the lintel, a compass relief with its points scrambled to N-E-S-W.

Trickster-god humor.

Tents and dead fires dotted the courtyard. Ryo knelt beside a tripped rope. "Alarms." The compass pinged: Protection recharged.

"Silent approach," he whispered. Yuna raised her rag doll. "Plan: Gumi-chan infiltrates."

The slime turned stone-gray and slipped away. "Braver than me," Ryo muttered.

A metallic clang. From the gate stepped a blond man in a patched black robe, compass tattoos on his arms—Haru—ringing a hand bell.

"Gather, layabouts! We have guests."

Dozens of hardened bandits appeared. Ryo sighed. "Silent plan failed. Sugi, fee for breaking and entering?"

"More coins than we have," the rookie whispered.

Haru's eyes locked on the compass at Ryo's chest. "So the relic chose a new toy…"

The compass pulsed blue. Gumi-chan popped from behind Haru, tickling his ankle. "Traitorous slime!" Haru stomped; the blob dodged and zipped back to Ryo.

Haru's tattooed hand glowed red. "Give me the core. It's mine."

"This little guy?" Ryo patted the slime. "Come negotiate—you'll love my flour."

"Laugh while you can." Haru snapped his fingers. Pillars clashed; a rune ignited in the floor. The ground shook; a stone golem with a grotesque grin rose, brandishing twin mallets.

Yuna squeezed Ryo's hand; Toru tensed; Sugi gulped loudly. The compass announced more wisdom gained.

"Give me a break, compass," Ryo sighed. "Hard to hit a hundred if I'm pancake-thin."

The golem lumbered forward, sunset light bouncing off its mocking face.

End of Chapter 5.