The Slime Doesn't Die from Mana Transfer-Chapter 111 : Fear of Loss

The palace dome was the highest point in all of Triumphal City.
From here, one could look out across the entire capital, even the vast, boundless plains beyond its gates.
The sun had already sunk below the horizon, and darkness draped the land.
Orange-yellow lights flickered along the streets—magical lamps powered by mana. They weren’t bright, but enough to keep the people walking the streets from stumbling in pitch blackness.
As night deepened, the number of people on the streets dwindled.
During martial law, a curfew was enforced. It wasn’t curfew yet, but anyone caught wandering would certainly be stopped and questioned by the guards. Most citizens, following the principle of “better safe than sorry,” shut themselves indoors after sundown.
Now, Rozelite sat atop the palace dome, her whole body encased in metallic slime armor. Thanks to Mr. Slime’s 【Mimicry】 and 【Stealth】, even though she sat in the most conspicuous spot in the city, no one had noticed her.
She gazed at the city below, letting its wind wash over her.
She had grown up here. She thought she knew this city well. But from this vantage…
Suddenly, it felt foreign.
Had the city changed?
Had her brother changed?
No… neither.
It was she who had changed.
“Knowing too much robs you of joy. People fall into fear of loss, fussing over things that may never have mattered,” Russell’s voice echoed in her mind.
“Maybe you should try not thinking so much.”
“I… I don’t want to, but I can’t stop myself.”
Rozelite whispered.
She thought that once she returned, everything would be answered, everything resolved.
But the truth was the opposite.
“Maybe we need a different perspective,” Russell mused.
“How about taking the throne yourself?”
“Huh?”
Rozelite blinked.
“Emperors take turns. Why not your turn? You’re royalty too, so you’ve got a claim. If the First Prince can be king, why not you?”
“…But… what good is being king?”
Rozelite asked hesitantly.
“Plenty of good! You eat what you want, do what you want, smack whoever you don’t like!”
“I don’t want that. Being king sounds awful.”
For once, Rozelite refuted Russell directly.
She fell silent, then whispered, “Father was always so busy… endless affairs, endless papers, endless nobles to meet. Every time I visited his office, his desk was stacked like a mountain, and he always looked tired.”
“I worried about bothering him. But he always said no matter how exhausted he was, seeing my smile made it all worth it.”
“Father… he really did love me.”
Her hand clenched at her chest. Yet her chest felt unnaturally calm.
Mr. Slime’s heart pulsed steadily within her, with no hint of an accelerated beat.
Blood coursed only because Mr. Slime pumped it. If he stopped, she’d die within a minute.
And that feeling—her life in his hands—was strangely comforting.
It made her feel they were truly of one heart in two bodies.
“But even so, he ordered your death.”
Russell’s reminder was cold.
“And not just once. Each time, he struck with the intent to kill. He never meant for you to return alive. That talk of a ‘chance you might survive’ was nothing more than resignation.”
“…Yes.”
“And another thing,” Russell continued.
It wasn’t pleasant to say, but he felt he had to.
“Your brother Wells may have tried to stop your father. But he still agrees with the principle—sacrificing one life for the kingdom’s future. The reason he didn’t strike at you himself might be because even he didn’t know why your father wanted you dead. Your father carried that secret to the grave. That ignorance stripped him of his reason to kill you.”
Russell’s voice turned sharp.
“But if he knew the reason, what do you think he would choose?”
“…”
Rozelite’s fists tightened.
Yes.
Everything seemed arranged just so.
The surface was calm for now, but beneath it churned a vast current. If she didn’t resolve it soon, it would one day become irreparable.
Rozelite could walk away. She had the power.
But if possible… she didn’t want it to come to that.
She rose. Her armored boots gripped the steep dome as if it were level ground.
She leapt toward the streets below.
Wings spread from her back, catching the wind as she glided down toward a quiet corner of the city.
She landed in an alleyway.
The slime armor receded, reforming as ordinary clothing.
Since mastering Armor Fusion, she rarely wore normal clothes.
First, because it allowed her to instantly shift into battle.
Second, because it saved her from spending money on clothes destroyed in fights.
Third…
Wearing clothes shaped from Mr. Slime gave her the feeling of being wrapped tightly by him.
It was warm. Comforting.
“You’re not going back to the palace tonight?”
Russell asked.
“No. I’m used to staying outside.”
“Alright. Up to you.”
Russell knew Rozelite needed time to adapt to her shifting identity.
At least, this time, they had plenty of time.
Rozelite walked along the alley.
Just as she reached its end, two armored guards passed by and spotted her.
“Stop.”
They blocked her path.
“Name and business?”
“Roze, age 15. Adventurer.”
Rozelite carried no proof of her identity as the Seventh Princess. Only her adventurer’s card.
Fortunately, it sufficed.
The guards examined it, returned it, and warned:
“Curfew’s soon. Find a place to stay. If you’re caught on the streets after curfew, you’ll be jailed. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.”
“And be careful. Demon spies are about.”