The proposition, as it turned out, was to take care of a local menace. One that was causing havoc with the local flora.
[You weren't planning to fight these slimes with your fists, were you?] Rosin asked from her safe place around his neck, amused.
"Of course I wasn't. It would be really foolish to fight slimes with my fists."
[Hmmhmm…]
"... Remind me why it would be a really foolish idea to use my fists, again?"
[Because slimes are, like, super acidic. Unless you're using a spirit art, hitting one of them will hurt- a lot.]
As though it had heard Roisin's proclamation, one of the meandering blobs of red slime crept up his leg at that moment. His pants fizzled at the contact and a red welt appeared.
"Ouch!" Nergal yelled, kicking wildly.
The slime, instead of being forced off, reared back almost as if in surprise. Then, it waited for a moment before beginning to haul its protoplasmic self in another direction.
"... What was that about?" he wondered.
[They can't see you, you know. So when you shook your leg he must have mistaken you for a giant predator of some sort and decided you wouldn't be worth the trouble.]
"Why are they considered evil, again?"
[Dark-Aligned.] Rosin insisted.
She did that often, he noted. Used different terms, made up references. Well, he thought them made up at least. He'd never heard half of what she said before, even in passing, and when he mentioned one of them to someone else they inevitably looked confused.
"Okay. Dark-Aligned, then."
[Because they were made by one of the Dark Lords of Alderi, obviously.] Were she out of her stone he thought she'd have rolled her eyes at him.
"Sure they were…" Nergal nodded. Case in point. He'd never heard of a place called Alderi or of any supposed Dark Lords. And for a monster to have been made by one of them? He was now even more confused but too drained to continue the conversation.
Glancing around the rocky plains, he spotted a curved stick. "Could I use that?" he asked, pointing at it.
[Yep. Don't know how long it'll last, though.]
Tentatively, Nergal walked up to the closest slime and bashed it with the stick. It felt like hitting a rubber bean bag filled with pudding. The slime shook with either pain or rage. Either way, it responded to that emotion by charging in his direction. Though, charging may have been an exaggeration for what was more like a slow dawdling.
[It can sense your movement if you're close enough.]
Nergal nodded, hitting the poorly defending slime again. It wouldn't matter so long as he kept out of its reach and stayed aware of his surroundings, before he got blindsided by a bunch of the the blind monsters. The business end of his stick was coated in a viscous acid and had already begun to fizzle as a consequence. He would need to probably need to replace it multiple times.
With a few more swings of his crooked stick the slime finally dropped dead, its outer membrane busted open in multiple places, leaking the life-goo from inside.
Fighting the rest of the slimes– if a one-sided beating of a near defenseless slime was fighting, that is– took very little effort. Replacing the stick was probably the most difficult part of the beatdowns. He'd gone through six and murdered at least four times as much of the gelatinous monsters.
It was getting to the point where he'd begun to feel sorry for them.
Sensing safety, Rosin popped from her gemstone with the usual puff of smoke to sit on his shoulder.
"Ding! Ding! Ding! You've reached the next stage of cultivation!" She announced, clapping her hands.
Nergal blinked. "You sure? I don't feel any different."
She pouted. "Questioning Rosin's skills again? You've definitely just reached the Element Differentiation Level. Try to focus on seeing the spirit strands around here and you'll see for yourself."
"... Why are you referring to yourself in the third person?" Nergal grumbled under his breath, but did as she asked.
"I don't see anything diff- wait."
The strands which had looked wispy to him the day prior were now a lot more substantial. They seemed like dancing streams of smoke, waxing and waning to the tune of songs all their own. Where there had only been one color visible to him before, a panoply of new ones were now visible in many shades. That same blue was still the most abundant however, being as abundant as the rest of the colors combined.
"I don't get it. Are these spirit strands showing their support for the LGBTQ community?"
Rosin scrunched her nose in confusion. Good. He wouldn't be the only one confused by their conversations. "... What?"
Nergal waved a wand. "Nothing, nothing. You're right, I've definitely raised my cultivation. It's all thanks to your help."
Roisin giggled happily. "Hmmhmm. I'm the best Guideling around!"
Well, he had needed to ask for the shelter historian help in figuring out which creatures he needed to fight. But he couldn't deny that without Rosin he would never have raised his cultivation level. Seventeen years had passed without a single improvement and now, in the span of two days he'd jumped as many levels.
He felt a sudden swelling of gratitude for the little Guideling and patted her on the head.
"Stop that! I'm a big girl, not some baby!" she complained, but kept leaning into his pats, smiling.
"Okay, okay. I'll keep going…"
He looked around. The area, teeming with slimes almost tripping over themselves when he'd arrived, was now rather sparse. A quick estimation put the slime population at around fifteen. A thought occurred to him.
"Hey, Rosin. These slimes… Can they breed?"
Rosin nodded sagely. "Yes… That's the problem. They breed suuuuper fast and eat everything."
Nergal blinked. "So… If I were to just walk away right now, when would they be back to their previous population size?"
She scratched her chin. "Hmmm… About a week."
Jackpot.