The Slime Doesn't Die from Mana Transfer-Chapter 113 : The Shadow Race

Russell found the scene bizarre.
In the middle of an empty alley floated… an attribute panel.
“The hell…? Is this some ghost story?”
【Name: Alexis Nosferatu】
【Level: 62】
【Race: Human】
【Status: Shadowmeld】
【HP: 6650/6650】
【MP: 7050/7220】
【Skills: Shadowmeld Lv8, Dark Magic Lv7, Stealth Lv6, Flight Lv6, Blood Manipulation Lv6, Spear Mastery Lv6】
“Shadowmeld?”
Russell scratched Rozelite’s head with a tendril.
Judging from the name, it probably meant hiding inside shadows.
“A skill like that actually exists? Damn, that’s impressive.”
“In the shadows? Mr. Slime, I don’t see anything,” Rozelite said, confused.
Russell realized the problem.
“Hold on.”
Once 【Symbiosis】 reached Lv8, Rozelite and Russell could share their vision. But attribute panels weren’t included—they weren’t really “visual” data, more like something imprinted on the soul that simply presented itself to Russell as a panel.
That meant they needed to use another skill.
【Mana Perception Lv8】
He’d gotten this from that old sword saint of the House Charlotte. It allowed direct detection of ambient mana in the air and the mana flowing within living beings.
As soon as they activated it, Rozelite and Russell immediately sensed the hidden figure lurking within the shadows of the alley. The state was strange—visually, the figure had merged completely with darkness, yet physically, it still had a collision body. As long as it stayed in shadow, it was essentially invisible.
Suddenly, the figure moved.
It darted away at incredible speed toward another part of the city.
“Do we chase?”
Russell asked.
“Chase!”
Rozelite decided immediately.
She didn’t know who this was, but anyone who skulked about like that couldn’t be up to anything good.
Night fell around them, her metallic armor covering her body once more.
With a leap, Rozelite shot forward, chasing the shadow.
Her armored boots softened, muffling her steps until she made almost no sound at all, carrying her smoothly into the night. She tailed the shadow, bounding across rooftops.
She deliberately kept some distance to avoid being noticed.
The shadow’s path, however, was erratic, as if it knew the city like the back of its hand.
The pursuit dragged on. Gradually, the surroundings grew dilapidated, cobbled roads giving way to muddy dirt paths.
Rozelite slowed slightly.
Without realizing it, they had chased the figure far from the heart of the city.
Here there were no lamps, moonlight blocked by slanting, packed shanties. Visibility was poor, puddles and trash scattered underfoot. Rozelite danced around them like a ghost, refusing to lose her target.
Then suddenly—the shadow dove into a cluster of cramped shacks.
Rozelite gave chase.
But when she landed, the figure was gone.
“Fast bastard, huh?”
Russell clicked his tongue.
The figure clearly knew the terrain.
Even though it couldn’t outrun Rozelite outright, it used obstacles to break her line of sight.
“You think we’ve been noticed?”
Rozelite frowned.
“Not impossible.”
The enemy was clearly a master of stealth. Even with Russell helping conceal her, being the pursuer made it more likely they’d be spotted.
Rozelite scanned the area.
The alleys here were narrow, dark, filled with broken crates and discarded junk. Crossroads everywhere. It was like a maze.
Only the stench of mildew and rot remained, with faint noises in the distance. The shadow had melted into the darkness like a drop of water into the sea.
This was the slums of Triumphal City.
Harsh, remote.
Even patrol guards rarely came here.
“Triumphal City… has a place like this?”
Rozelite whispered in surprise.
“Where there’s light, there are shadows. Everything that exists has its reason to exist,” Russell replied.
“This is normal.”
“But I’ve lived here before, and I never knew about it.”
“Heh. You’re a princess. What princess goes poking around slums? Even if you wanted to, would the people around you let you?”
“…That’s true.”
Rozelite thought back.
When she’d gone on outings in the city, Vira always warned her not to go near damp, narrow places. And worrying about dirtying her skirts, Rozelite never insisted.
So this was what those places were like.
At that moment, heavy boots struck stone with a steady thud from farther away.
Someone was approaching.
“City patrol,” Russell muttered.
Rozelite hesitated, then gave up the chase. One, the target was likely already gone. Two… clashing with guards would be troublesome. She might be safe given her status, but it would still mean questions and delays.
Worse, it could tip off the enemy.
“Let’s go.”
She cast one last glance at the direction where the shadow vanished, then withdrew, melting back into the darkness as quietly as she’d come, retracing her way to the inn.
“Looks like the rumor about demon spies in the capital wasn’t baseless,” Russell said.
“Being able to merge perfectly with shadows—moving unseen at night… If not for mana perception, that’d be flawless.”
Rozelite thought for a moment.
“If I’m not mistaken, that should be the Shadow Race from the Northern Federation.”
“Shadow Race?”
“Yes. They say even a three-year-old from their race could sneak past an unguarded adult unnoticed. They’re unparalleled in stealth, assassination, and espionage.”
“First the Winged Race, now the Shadow Race…”
Russell remembered the intelligence Anna had once given them.
The Holy Sword!
After the war, the current Demon Lord—once the Hero—had left the sword in the care of the Rhine Kingdom, entrusted to return it to the Freya Forest. But the kingdom had never done so. They’d hidden it instead.
Now, a new Demon Lord was to be chosen.
And the standard was simple: whoever claimed the Holy Sword would be the next Demon Lord.
“So you think that guy wasn’t here to sabotage the coronation, but to find the sword?”
“I think it’s very likely. But the real question is… do you think there’s only one demon here in Triumphal?”
When you find one cockroach in your house, it usually means there are many more.
Realizing this, Russell and Rozelite exchanged grim looks.
“Seems the coronation three days from now… won’t be peaceful.”