The Slime Doesn't Die from Mana Transfer

Chapter 78 : Susanna

Clack... clack... clack...

Footsteps echoed through the narrow, pitch-black corridor, accompanied by a nauseating, wet crawling noise.

The oppressive darkness clung to Susanna like coagulated ink, thick and suffocating, while the sound felt sticky, like countless hard shells scraping frantically against one another. She panted heavily, every breath stabbing her throat like swallowing needles of ice.

Even so, she dared not stop.

She glanced behind her again and again, sweat pouring down her pale forehead, her expression one of desperate flight.

“I won’t die here...”

She muttered between clenched teeth, as though speaking to herself.

Ninety-nine out of a hundred people in this world were fools.

Susanna had realized this truth when she was only three years old.

In that instant, all the nagging puzzles and frustrations that had plagued her suddenly became clear—yes, of course, she wasn’t poor at communication. It was simply that fools could not comprehend the thoughts of a genius. Nothing could be more natural.

She was born in a small village in the northern provinces.

By age two or three, her parents noticed she was not like other children—whether it was walking, talking, reading, or arithmetic, she learned with astonishing speed.

Worried for her, her parents never spoke of this to others.

But paper could not contain fire.

When Susanna was four, she made a bet with the son of a village knight. If he lost, he had to give her a book from his family’s collection.

Naturally, Susanna won.

The knight’s son dared not tell his parents, since books were precious—something even children understood. Yet his pride wouldn’t allow him to back down either.

So, he secretly stole a dusty book from his home and handed it over.

It was a magic book.

Though not too advanced, it contained real magic.

Two days later, the theft was discovered. His parents demanded the book’s return.

Susanna gave it back without fuss.

But in those two days, she had already memorized every word.

She had only wanted a biography at first—she had never studied magic before. But the very night she received it, she realized its value was far greater than she imagined. It was not something to be given away so easily. It might even be forcibly reclaimed.

So she forced herself to memorize it in two days.

For the next three years, Susanna immersed herself in its contents. Carefully, by piecing together hints and experimenting, she slowly came to understand the obscure phrases and technical terms.

By age seven—

She had taught herself her first fire-element spell: Ignition.

The flame that sprang to life before her eyes proved she had broken through the barrier of class.

Though a mere first-tier spell of little practical use, it was proof that she possessed magical talent. She knew, then—her life would belong to the grand pursuit of magic.

The next eight years, she devoted entirely to magic.

Deprived of further books, she experimented, extrapolated, created theories from theory, truth from truth.

By her fifteenth birthday, she could wield fourth-tier spells of both fire and wind.

And to think, that first book had contained only a single first-tier fire spell! The rest she had derived herself from foundational knowledge.

Her talent was undeniable. She knew her future was limitless.

She planned to beg her parents to let her study at a magic academy, graduate, enter the Magic Association, and change her fate—perhaps even become a noble.

But on her fifteenth birthday, her parents told her the truth.

Five years earlier, when she had first shown her talent, they had arranged her marriage—to the knight’s son. Though knights were the lowest rank of nobility, they were still nobles.

Susanna’s heart turned to ash.

She pleaded with her parents, insisting her future was not bound to their tiny village.

But they neither understood, nor could they.

The engagement was set. As mere commoners, they had no power to refuse a noble.

They quarreled bitterly, then parted in anger.

Susanna ran away.

There was nothing to hesitate over.

She understood her parents’ difficulties. But so what?

Should she throw away her limitless future, simply because mortals could not understand the wisdom of a genius? To let her brilliance be buried like it never existed—that would be the greatest tragedy of all.

That, she could never accept.

She fled her village. But her goal remained the same: she needed more knowledge, to stand upon the world’s grand stage. Talent without fulfillment meant nothing.

But tuition required money.

Even knights struggled to afford it, let alone her commoner family.

Fortunately, she had a plan. She would become an adventurer. With her magic, she could earn the funds she needed.

Perhaps it was fate.

Not long after she fled, rumors spread of the appearance of a gigantic S-rank labyrinth nearby—the Undead Fortress.

Susanna believed this was destiny.

At the Adventurer’s Guild, she demonstrated her magic. Mages were so rare that many parties immediately invited her, even though she was only fifteen.

But Susanna refused them all.

She would walk as a solo adventurer.

With strength, a solo adventurer could earn more money, more fame.

And she had confidence. Fourth-tier spells were nothing to her. Low-level monsters? Child’s play. She cared nothing for the looks the others gave her.

But inside the labyrinth, she discovered her mistake.

At first, the monsters fell easily.

But the deeper she went, the more numerous they became. Her mana drained faster than she had ever imagined.

When her reserves ran dry and the monsters kept coming, she realized her folly. She had made two mistakes: she underestimated the danger of adventuring, believing magic alone could handle monsters, and she overestimated her strength, failing to account for mana exhaustion.

And so, she could only flee.

The path back was blocked by monsters.

She was forced deeper, stumbling through the dark, desperately hoping her mana would recover faster.

But it was like drinking poison to quench thirst.

Ahead, another tide of monsters emerged.

She gathered what little mana she had regained—launched one last fireball—

And then nothing.

Her magic was gone. The monsters pressed in.

“I can’t die here... I have a future! I didn’t leave that village just to die in silence!”

“Someone—save me! Please, anyone!”

“Anyone at all...”

Her voice grew bitter.

The skeleton soldiers, though slow, closed in step by step. Rusted weapons lifted high, ready to strike her down.

Gritting her teeth, Susanna raised her wooden staff. She barely blocked the blow.

But more skeletons emerged behind it.

“It’s over.”

She shut her eyes.

But suddenly—the crushing pressure on her wrist was gone.

She staggered forward, colliding with the skeleton, which collapsed into pieces.

Huh?

Before she could react—

The sound of fierce slashing filled her ears.

She rubbed her eyes—and froze.

What was she seeing?

A golden shadow darted between the monsters.

The sword in its hand swung as if weightless. Every strike reaped monsters like stalks of wheat in harvest, leaving them unable to rise again.

It was a battle, but in Susanna’s eyes, it looked like a dance. Yes, a dance. Like a noble’s partner twirling under the glow of chandeliers and music at a grand banquet. Each movement was elegance embodied, beauty carried to its limit—so beautiful it defied heaven and earth.

For a moment, Susanna was utterly transfixed.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?”

A slightly immature voice reached her.

Susanna snapped back to her senses. Before her stood a girl cloaked in black, a wide hood shadowing most of her face. Only her delicate, pale jawline could be seen. Her weapon had already vanished.

Susanna glanced around. The ground was littered with the fading black dust of skeletons and the corpses of Iron Beetles felled in one blow.

The battle was already over—in seconds.

She was like a superhuman.