Chapter 13: Chapter 12 : Demon Realm

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[Excerpt from Mythical Beasts & Monsters: A Gentle Guide to the Curious and Cursed — Volume II]

Entry #112: The Weeping Slime

This creature has long been dismissed as myth, a fabrication to frighten children or amuse bored scholars. It is often described as a translucent blob, no larger than a dog, that quivers as though weeping. It shakes. It shudders. It imitates helplessness.

But the Weeping Slime is not helpless.

It is not sad.

It does not feel.

What it does, it does with purpose. It mimics sorrow not for attention—but for survival. Travelers report that it will appear near corpses or ruins, taking the shape of a crying child or wounded animal. When approached, it will tremble and pulse, seemingly terrified. It will let itself be cradled. Carried.

And when the moment is right—

It consumes.

Some scholars suggest that it mimics not just sadness, but our sadness. That the more pity you feel, the more perfectly it reflects what you long to protect. But it cannot love. It cannot mourn. There is nothing behind its eyes.

Just hunger.

I A V A I

Nysera : ( Ar'cens Mother )

The capital loomed in the distance—unchanged.

Still crowned in stone and steel. Still wrapped in walls that stretched toward heaven. Still as proud and cruel as the day I left it.

Nothing had changed.

But that was the problem.

People never change. They respect and fear you when you’re at the top. But the moment you fall from grace… they remember their hatred. They bare their teeth.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Let them.

Let them scream. Let them pretend they’ve won.

I will not flinch.

I will not fall.

Because my Moonpetal is watching me. And I still have to get her through this alive.

I A V A I

Ar'cen

We must’ve been riding forever. At some point, I’d curled up on Mom’s lap and drifted off.

I dreamed of sun. Sand. Laughter.

Then someone yelled.

"OOH, I can see the capital!"

"Finally!"

Just like that, my beach day was gone.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. “Where are we?”

Mom didn’t answer at first. She just stared ahead, arms wrapped a little tighter around me.

"...It's the capital of the demon kingdom," she finally said.

I followed her gaze—and just stared.

The city looked like something out of a myth. Walls like mountains. A castle so tall it stabbed the sky. Spires twisting like claws. It was beautiful. Terrifying. And nothing like the stories.

The closer we got, the more uneasy she looked. So I stayed quiet.

The guards didn’t stop us for long. They took one look, asked who we carried. The answer made the air freeze.

“The Bloody Shadow.”

The soldier didn’t even blink. He just left and came back with someone more important. No questions. Just orders.

“Escort them to the palace.”

That’s when the stares started.

At first it was just side glances. Then whispers. Then anger.

“Traitor.”

“Monster.”

I didn’t understand. Why were they so angry? Why did they look at her like that?

A rock flew from somewhere. Hit Mom square in the head.

I gasped.

She didn’t flinch. Not even a wince.

But her hand gripped mine just a little tighter.

I A V A I

Nysera :

I’ve taken blades through bone.

I’ve swallowed fire and poison in the name of war.

I’ve walked through hell and crawled back smiling.

But seeing fear in my daughter’s eyes?

That hurts more than anything.

That rock was nothing.

The word “traitor”? Empty breath.

But Ar’cen trembling beside me, looking at me like she didn’t understand why they hated me—that carved deeper than any blade.

I will endure.

I must.

Because no matter what the world sees when they look at me—

She still sees her mother.

And I will not let that change.

I A V A I

Ar'cen :

We passed through the gates. The city opened like a wound.

Shouting. Trading. Laughter. Demon kids chasing each other. People arguing over vegetables and prices.

It looked… normal.

Just like a human town.

Until they noticed us.

Until the whispers returned.

Until the stares stuck.

And somehow, this time, I knew they were talking about her.

Mom kept her eyes ahead. Calm. Steady.

But I could feel it.

The tension in her arms.

The weight she carried alone.

So I pressed closer to her side.

And I didn’t ask anything more.