Eldritch Guidance
Chapter 110 – The Slime Race

Joe and his team sped through the winding streets of Graheel, their car weaving expertly between the occasional traffic and the ever-present dangers of the red pursuer slimes. The city's towering buildings and narrow alleys seemed to close in around them, each shadowed corner threatening to produce another monstrosity. Slimes lunged from the darkness, some rolling out from side streets, others leaping down from rooftops in desperate attempts to latch onto the speeding vehicle. Mike’s driving was nothing short of miraculous, narrowly avoiding collisions while keeping the group on course.

Inside the car, Joe sat in the passenger seat, clutching the compass tightly. Its needle quivered with a faint hum, pointing unwaveringly to the south—the direction they were heading, away from Wren’s shop and deeper into the outskirts of the city. The hex fragment inside the compass pulsed faintly, a subtle reminder of the cursed power it held.

Joe’s eyes flicked between the needle and the road ahead, his mind racing as fast as the car itself. The fragment’s pull was unmistakable, leading them straight toward the source of the chaos.

Joe: "Keep heading this way!" he called out to Mike, his voice tense but steady.

Behind him, the rest of the team sat on edge, weapons ready and senses heightened. Every screech from the slimes outside felt like a warning, a reminder that they couldn’t afford even a moment of hesitation. The stakes were clear: if they didn’t find the source soon, the relentless pursuit would only grow worse.

Joe glanced over his shoulder, his stomach sinking at the sight behind them. The number of slimes had multiplied exponentially, forming an uncountable, seething mass. It looked less like individual creatures now and more like a relentless tidal wave of crimson ooze surging through the streets, all converging on their vehicle with unyielding determination.

The wave of monstrosities flowed with eerie coordination, their red forms barreled forward relentlessly. Their gelatinous bodies sloshed and rippled as they crawled over cars, benches, and any obstacle in their path. Despite their overwhelming numbers, they ignored everything that wasn’t their primary target.

The slimes moved past vehicles stuck at traffic lights and pedestrians frozen in shock, their sights locked solely on the car carrying the hex fragment. Bystanders remained untouched, their terror turning to confusion as the creatures surged by without so much as a passing glance. The slimes had a singular purpose: to reach the fragment—and anyone foolish enough to carry it.

Alan: “That’s one small blessing,” Alan muttered grimly, gripping the edge of his seat. “They don’t care about anything else.”

Mike: “Small blessing?” Mike snapped, his tone sharp. “It’s only a matter of time before the streets are too crowded for them to avoid collateral damage.”

Joe clenched the compass tight. The thought of anyone getting hurt because of this mess gnawed at him, but they had no choice but to press on. The fragment’s pull was clear, and if they didn’t find the source soon.

Realizing the sheer number of slimes was becoming unmanageable, Joe gritted his teeth and made a snap decision. He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned halfway out of the car window, steadying himself against the doorframe as the vehicle swerved and sped through the streets. His team shouted protests, but he ignored them, his focus locked on the writhing wave of red slimes surging behind them.

Grabbing one of the larger vials of fungicide from the sack Rell had given him, Joe held it up and calculated the timing. With a quick, precise motion, he hurled the vial high into the air, the glass container spinning end over end as it soared above the chasing horde. Before it could reach its apex, Joe drew his sidearm and took aim.

The sharp crack of his gun echoed through the street as the bullet struck true. The vial shattered mid-air, its contents bursting out in a wide spray. The liquid rained down over the pursuing slimes like a deadly mist. Wherever the fungicide splashed onto their gelatinous bodies, the creatures let out unearthly, ear-piercing screeches, their forms bubbling and dissolving as they writhed in agony.

For a brief moment, it seemed as though the tide had been stemmed. Dozens of slimes discolored into normal rot slime, leaving patches of clear rot slime on the street in their wake. But the reprieve was short-lived. The remaining slimes surged forward undeterred, crawling over the remnants of their fallen kin. The mass seemed endless, a relentless force that only grew more determined with each casualty.

Rell: “It slowed them down, but it’s not enough,” Rell said, his voice tense. “We need a better plan—or more fungicide.”

Alan, gripping the edge of his seat, glanced back at the relentless horde.

Alan: “How much more of that stuff do we even have?”

Joe: “Not enough,” Joe admitted, as he crawled back into the car and started loading another round into his pistol. “Rell, Crowley, starts blasting that horde with necros spells. Keep driving, Mike. We can’t let them corner us.”

Rell and Crowley repositioned themselves by the car windows, their expressions grim but focused as they prepared to follow Joe's orders. Rolling down the windows, they braced themselves against the door frames and began unleashing a barrage of necros-based spells at the pursuing horde.

The element of necros, while potent, was inherently sluggish in its manifestation. Dark projectiles formed with an almost eerie deliberation before being launched into the air. Despite their slower speed, the spells were devastatingly effective against the mindless slimes, which made no attempt to evade the attacks. Each dark bolt, pulse, and tendril of purple energy struck true, corrupting the slimes’ forms on contact and causing them to dissolve into gray, ashen remnants.

For several tense minutes, the interior of the car was filled with the sound of magical incantations and the hiss of dissolving slime as Rell and Crowley worked in unison. Rell's chains of necros energy snapped outward like whips, tearing through clusters of the creatures. Crowley, on the other hand, summoned concentrated pulses of necrotic energy that exploded on impact, taking out multiple slimes in a single blast.

The two men didn’t stop, their focus unyielding as they continued their assault. By the time they were done, the relentless wave of slimes had been reduced to less than seven stragglers still chasing the vehicle.

Panting slightly, Rell leaned back inside the car, rubbing a bead of sweat from his forehead.

Rell: “That thinned them out,” he muttered, his tone carrying a hint of cautious relief.

Crowley gave a curt nod, his hands still glowing faintly with residual energy.

Crowley: “We’re not out of the woods yet, but at least now it’s manageable.”

Joe, keeping one eye on the compass and another on the road ahead, allowed himself a small nod of approval.

As Joe focused intently on the compass, the needle suddenly wavered, spinning momentarily before settling in the exact opposite direction from where they were heading. His eyes widened as the realization hit him like a cold splash of water—they had just driven past the location the compass had been guiding them to.

Joe: “Mike! We just passed the location!”

Upon hearing Joe's instructions, Mike reacted immediately, slamming his foot on the brake with force. The tires screeched sharply against the asphalt as he turned the wheel, executing a controlled spin that rotated the car 180 degrees, leaving it now facing the opposite direction. As the vehicle stabilized, Mike spotted seven pursuer slimes rolling toward them. With adrenaline surging, he gave a small, determined smirk and pressed down hard on the accelerator, driving directly toward the approaching creatures.

While accelerating, Mike began chanting a complex incantation. Seven bolts of hardened earth materialized, floating alongside the car in perfect synchronization. Without pause, he initiated a second spell, imbuing the earthen projectiles with Necros energy to enhance their destructive capability and offset the typically slower nature of pure Necros attacks. With a final chant, Mike unleashed the bolts, sending them hurtling toward the advancing slimes. Each projectile struck the creatures' cores with precision, annihilating them within moments as the car sped past their collapsing remains.

Mike brought the car to a halt in the vicinity Joe indicated. Once the vehicle stopped, everyone exited, weapons and spells at the ready. Joe quickly consulted the compass, noting its unwavering needle now pointed toward a nearby construction site for what appeared to be an unfinished high-rise building.

Joe: “It is somewhere in that construction area.”

Mike: “Good to know, “ he said before grabbing the compass out of Joe’s hand.

Joe: “What are you doing!?”

Mike: “They're attracted to this thing, right?” he said, holding up the compass. “So, you go look for the ritual circle while the rest of us hold off the creatures. And, this time, be quick.”

Joe opened his mouth to protest but stopped short when he caught the determined look in Mike’s eyes. There was no point in arguing now. With a curt nod, Joe turned and bolted toward the construction site. As he ran, he cast a quick glance over his shoulder. Already, more pursuer slimes were crawling up from storm drains and slithering out of shadowy alleyways, their relentless, mindless pursuit unbroken. He clenched his fists and pushed himself to move faster. Time wasn’t on his side.

The construction site was deserted. The skeletal framework of the first floor stood amidst piles of equipment and materials, a clear indication that the building was still in its early stages. Joe’s eyes darted around, scanning for anything unusual. Their earlier theories about Jixi hiding underground came rushing back to him. The tunnels beneath the city had always been a potential factor, and it clicked in his mind that what he sought was likely beneath the construction site.

His gaze landed on a stairwell leading down into a basement level. Without hesitation, Joe sprinted toward it. The air grew colder as he descended, the dim light from the surface fading with each step. At the bottom of the stairs, he came upon a lone, heavy metal door. A shiver ran through him as he noticed a red slime oozing through the small gap beneath it, its gelatinous body slowly forcing its way through the narrow space.

The sight confirmed his instincts—he was on the right track. Not wasting a moment, Joe yanked a vial of fungicide from his pouch, uncorked it, and splashed the liquid onto the slime. The creature reacted instantly, letting out a high-pitched screech as it bubbled and sizzled, its form beginning to disintegrate.

Joe didn’t wait to see the creature’s demise. Channeling his magnetic magic, he focused on the metal door. With a crackling hum of energy, the door groaned and warped under the force, the hinges snapping and the lock shattering. It flung open violently, leaving a warped frame in its wake.

He darted inside, his instincts screaming at him to keep moving. The faint echoes of the dying slime faded behind him, but Joe didn’t look back. Every second counted now.

The basement was shrouded in absolute darkness, forcing Joe to pull out a flashlight. The beam cut through the gloom, illuminating the unfinished walls and scattered construction debris. He scanned the space carefully but found nothing of immediate interest—just an empty, half-constructed room littered with tools and building materials.

As he moved the flashlight’s beam across the floor, he noticed a glistening trail of slime. It was likely left by the pursuer slime he had just killed. With no other leads, Joe decided to follow the trail. The slime glimmered faintly under the flashlight as it wound through long, narrow corridors lined with unfinished walls. The air was stale, carrying the faint metallic tang of construction.

Eventually, the trail led him to a wall. Joe crouched down and examined it closely, noticing a massive crack running near the base. The gap was wide enough to suggest something could pass through, and as if on cue, another pursuer slime began forcing its way out of the fissure. Its red, gelatinous form slithered halfway through when Joe splashed it with fungicide. The creature let out a piercing screech, bubbling and disintegrating before it could fully emerge.

Joe stood back up and swept his flashlight around the area, searching for something he could use. His eyes landed on a pile of steel rebar lying nearby. A smirk crossed his face.

Joe: "Perfect," he muttered.

Channeling his magnetic magic, Joe extended his hand toward the rebar. The steel rods vibrated, then lifted into the air, floating around him in a metallic halo. With a flick of his wrist and a pulse of aetheric energy, he sent the rebar hurtling toward the crack. The first impact sent pieces of the wall crumbling inward, confirming his suspicion—there was a space on the other side. Joe continued to manipulate the rebar, striking the crack repeatedly until he had created an opening wide enough to crawl through.

Once the hole was large enough, Joe squeezed through, landing on the other side. His flashlight illuminated a damp, narrow tunnel, its walls lined with old, crumbling brickwork. The space had a forgotten, almost ancient feel to it, as if it had been abandoned for centuries. Joe immediately recognized it as one of the many disused tunnels buried beneath the city.

The tunnel forked into two separate paths. Joe hesitated, unsure of which direction to take. His decision was made for him when his flashlight caught sight of another faint trail of slime leading down one of the corridors.

Joe: "Looks like you're guiding me," Joe said under his breath. Without another thought, he began to follow the glistening trail deeper into the underground maze.

Joe sprinted through the tunnel, his breathing heavy but controlled. He needed to locate the ritual, and fast. Every second he wasted here was another second Mike and the others had to fend off those relentless slime creatures. Anxiety clawed at him, but he pushed it aside, his focus locked on the task at hand.

As he navigated the ancient passageway, the tunnel twisted sharply. From around the corner ahead, a faint, flickering white light glowed, spilling into the otherwise shadowy corridor. Joe slowed his pace, his instincts kicking in. He crept toward the corner, pressing his back to the wall, and carefully peeked around it.

What he saw made his heart skip a beat.

The passage opened into a massive subterranean chamber. The room appeared to be an ancient storage facility of some kind. Rows of dilapidated wooden crates and rotting barrels were scattered haphazardly across the floor, their age apparent in the mold and decay that clung to them. The air carried a faint, musty smell, mixed with something metallic—blood, perhaps.

In one corner of the cavern, a makeshift living space had been set up. A rickety bed with a threadbare blanket and a small desk cluttered with papers and trinkets stood out awkwardly against the room’s ancient backdrop. Whoever had been staying here wasn’t just hiding—they had been living here for some time.

Joe’s eyes quickly shifted to the centerpiece of the room: the source of the glow. Near the makeshift living area, four large, radiant aether crystals emitted a pulsating white light. They were arranged upright in a perfect square around an intricate ritual circle painted on the floor. The symbols and runes etched into the design were unmistakably drawn in blood, their dark red hue contrasting starkly against the glowing crystals. The circle’s center was the most disturbing sight of all—a mummified corpse, its withered hands folded across its chest, lying unnervingly still.

Joe’s stomach tightened as he took it all in. The oppressive energy emanating from the ritual site was almost palpable, tingling against his skin like static electricity. He didn’t need a guide to tell him this was it. Whatever Jixi was planning, it centered here. The ritual was in progress, and judging by the glow of the crystals, it was still ongoing.

Gritting his teeth, Joe tightened his grip on his flashlight and took a cautious step forward. He had to act, and quickly—there wasn’t any time to waste.

As Joe stepped closer to the ritual circle, he paused to study it in detail. The mummified corpse at its center immediately drew his attention. Its skin was leathery and shriveled, but the clothing draped over it looked surprisingly modern—far too new to match the age of the body. This wasn’t an ancient relic but someone who had died recently, their remains used as a macabre centerpiece for this twisted ritual.

Joe’s eyes scanned the intricate patterns and runes that made up the circle. Among the symbols, he noticed names inscribed in a careful, almost reverent hand. They were the targets—the people the pursuer slimes were sent after. His stomach twisted at the realization.

Kneeling beside the circle, Joe examined it for any traps or weaknesses. He searched for a way to disable the magic without triggering an explosion or worse. As his fingers traced the runes cautiously, he kept his senses sharp, aware of how dangerous this setup could be. But just as he was starting to piece together the ritual’s mechanics, a movement caught his eye.

The corpse's chest began to rise, the desiccated skin stretching grotesquely as though it were taking a breath. Joe froze, his heart pounding in his ears. From the corpse’s open mouth, something began to writhe—a flash of red, wet, and unnatural.

A red slime started to ooze out, pushing itself free with sickening determination. The way it squirmed, forcing its way through the corpse’s clenched jaws, sent a wave of nausea through Joe. The sickly sound of it sliding free was almost enough to make him gag.

Joe: “Oh, fuck no!” he muttered, his voice sharp with disgust and urgency.

The sight of another pursuer slime being birthed from the ritual was the last straw. Throwing caution to the wind, Joe sprang into action. He kicked at the nearest aether crystal, knocking it out of place. The glowing crystal skidded across the floor, its light flickering before extinguishing completely.

Without hesitation, Joe used the heel of his boot to scrape at the blood-drawn circle, smudging its lines and breaking its continuity. The moment the circle was disrupted, the remaining crystals went dark, their energy dissipating into the air like smoke.

A piercing, high-pitched shriek erupted from the half-formed red slime, echoing through the chamber and reverberating down the tunnels. It was a sound of rage, desperation, and death all at once. Joe flinched as the noise assaulted his ears, but he forced himself to stay focused.

The red slime began to lose its vibrancy, its color fading rapidly until it turned into a translucent, gelatinous mass. With a pathetic wet squelch, it collapsed in on itself, reverting to harmless, decayed rot slime.

From deeper in the tunnels, more screeches echoed—a chain reaction of dying slimes that had been linked to the ritual. Joe allowed himself a moment to breathe, his chest heaving.