The Slime Farmer

Defi walked through the rooms of the homestead, Turq in his arms, mentally taking note of everything that was out of place.

The house had not been searched extensively. Defi's room, where he kept his money, the resident registry certificate, the deed to the house, and the expensive glyphmaker's tools, was untouched.

Only three rooms had traces of entry: the master bedroom that was now a storage area, the central hall, and the underground storage.

Each of these places had a small hidden compartment. Defi had found the first two himself.

Based on the fact that only these three rooms were touched, the intruders had some way of determining the spots where the protection emblem was made to hide spaces meant for valuables.

However, some of the hidden spaces weren't covered by the Emblem. Defi touched a patterned stone in the wall of the kitchen, seeing another stone move away to reveal three small jars of mixed mystic spices, and the last of Kern's hybrid plant seeds.

This was the most obvious of the hidden compartments in the house. It was exactly as he left it.

Curious. Could it be that this had not been found? He would have expected searchers to at least move the bags of seed to see what was behind them. They would have found nothing regardless.

He hummed, thinking. In an old house like this, wouldn't there be hidden holes that were not covered by the security Emblem?

Karles stuck his head into the door from the kitchen yard. "The guard's here. There's an Inspector with them."

Defi closed the compartment discreetly and stepped away. "Inspector?"

The builder shrugged.

The armed might of the Ascharonian Empire was divided into four:

The Imperial Navy under the Admiral of Storms.

The Imperial Ground Forces under the General of Flame.

The Imperial Airflight Corps under the Sky Marshal.

The Imperial Civil Armed Forces under the Ministry of Justice.

The armed forces of the towns and cities under the direct control of the imperial government and the provincial security forces whose mandate was to keep the peace and safety in the large swaths of public land between the towns and cities were part of the Imperial Civil Armed Forces.

Defi was fairly certain there was no rank of 'inspector' in the civil guard.

"I'll go receive them." He should find out if his unwelcoming central hall would make them leave faster. He had a mess underground to clean away, and slimes to take care of.

Of the eleven slimes that were in the house, only Zivenof had not survived. Defi was relieved that most of the slimes were unharmed and surprised that the barrels in the slime room had not been smashed like the ones in the underground storage.

Karles nodded. "Need help?"

That was concerning. Karles was a helpful person only when it came to adding more useful things to build, and by doing so inflating the cost of Defi's warehouse renovation. Despite the stoic face, the builder was still a shameless merchant. Well, Defi didn't mind since the proposals Karles made were insightful and practical, showcasing the man's deep knowledge and keen expertise in his profession.

But offering help now, unrelated to building…

The appearance of an inspector must be something unusual.

"I'll be fine." Probably. A person with too many secrets couldn't help being uneasy at the approach of an official whose title indicated they were skilled at bringing mysteries to light.

Karles nodded and withdrew to resume his examination of the explosion site. The blast had cracked the wooden walls of the slime room, and the shutters were unsalvageable.

Defi's lips twitched. Soon, Karles would come up with a proposal. Would he be expanding the dining room outward or upward? Something to look forward to.

He crossed the central hall to open the front door.

"Defi!"

Two voices greeted him cheerfully.

He leaned back slightly. "Cuthes? Cor and…"

There were two people he did not recognize.

Cuthes pointed to the lanky youth. "That's Lon, he's a recruit still. And that's palace inspector Jon."

Palace inspector? Was this another thing everyone knew about? Defi sighed. His study into the Ascharonian government was still lacking, it seemed.

"Jorne," the tall man in a military uniform supplied, glaring at Cuthes. "Assistant inspector palatine."

Cuthes only answered with a smugly short, "Hah!"

There was a story there. Defi looked enquiringly at the other two. Cor beamed at him but didn't speak. The recruit, Lon, looked too terrified to talk.

Now he was even more curious. He was aware that anything marked 'palatine' were either envoys of the emperor or favored courtiers. Added to the presence of the Household Guard in Genlet, Defi made a few connections. What in the world was Calor Ducan doing that he stirred the interest of the emperor?

Defi stepped back to let them in, keeping his thoughts from his face. "Be welcome."

"Thank you!" Cor immediately entered, not standing on ceremony. He looked around curiously. "Are those pinecones?"

"Yes."

"Why a vase?"

"A plate wouldn't fit into the alcove." The very tall vase was narrow and thin under the wide lip. A plate needed a stand, besides.

"It doesn't go with the fish sculpture though."

"You might call them a study in converging contrasts."

"Good answer!"

"Thanks." He said it dryly, seeing that the younger boy was mostly appreciative of his ability to say that absolute hogwash with a straight face.

"The heck is your hall so bare?" Cuthes pointed at him accusingly.

"I've been busy."

"Why put books on the shelves?" Cuthes looked despairing. Defi remembered Aire looking somewhat similar as she surveyed the bare house.

His lips curled upward in amusement. "What else would I put on them?"

"I don't know, some plates or something."

Oh? It appeared that the Ontrean custom of gifting decorative tableware was also known in Ascharon. He shook his head.

"Just sit. I'll bring something to drink."

He indicated the cushioned chairs to the others.

"Can you make it cold? I rushed here with all haste, you know, the moment I heard, left my wife in the middle of conversation even." Cuthes said pitifully.

"Don't make your wife come after me."

"Why not?" the man retorted immediately. "Then she won't be coming after me! One little injury and she's all atwitter, hmph."

Everyone could see he was happy with his wife's concern.

"I might tell her how you got the injury in the first place." Defi called back as he entered the slime room.

"Blackguard. I'm the adjutant, you know."

Defi paused. The adjutant was the head of the guards, the most powerful town official after the mayor, a part of the town council.

He glanced back at Cuthes. This irascible irreverent soldier was a councilor? Defi thoughts wandered in the odd direction of thinking what kind of past the man had. Defi had only met half the council, but none of them were normal.

At one point during the celebration night, councilor Kaska had yelled something about criminals these days being too bloody and honorless, different from when he was head of a criminal ring. Well, actually, someone had interrupted before he said all that but Defi could read between the cut-off lines.

"I see. It's a survival exercise." Defi looked at Lon. "Fight well."

Cuthes sputtered as he disappeared into the kitchen. "Did that boy just call me an exercise in survival?"

Lon laughed a little, then shut up with wide eyes at Cuthes' half-hearted glower. He blanched white at the casual glance from the tall military man across from them.

"Teacher, smile a little! Don't use the eyes of death casting everywhere."

"That's possible?" Lon asked faintly as he hunched down in his seat.

Cuthes chortled. "Sure is!"

Assistant Inspector Palatine Jorne's 'death-casting' eyes moved to pierce Cuthes.

"What, you got something to say?" Cuthes leaned forward belligerently.

Jorne only stared at him with a gaze full of insulting words, straight-backed and silent.

"What ya say, ya son of a pus-filled lizard?!"

Lon tried to stop his commanding officer, eyes wide and nearly teary.

Fight well, soldier.

Defi let them argue. There was likely something in some etiquette manual somewhere that said many firm things about smoothing the interactions between cantankerous guests, but Defi was too tired to care.

Cor followed Defi. "You appear to be fine."

"The thieves escaped before I got here. The wall is the only casualty," he waved at the warped wood of the slime room.

Cor looked surprised at the proliferation of barrels in the room. He peeked into the slime basket, poked at a slime. "Are you planning on selling pets?"

"No." Defi set Turq down on the table, got out the large jar of samad, and put the breadbox into Cor's hands. "If you're here, better make yourself useful."

"I'm very useful!" Cor responded, mock-indignant. "Teacher says I should be less useful all the time."

"Hm." He nodde in understanding. "Don't work too hard."

"Work? I am noble and fifteen. What work would I have?"

When Defi turned fifteen, he had been senior under-administrator of the city of Ilarad for nearly a year. As one of the three cities in the Rimet territory, Ilarad was a famous trade hub despite being only four times as large as the Lowpool town.

He knew full well that age was no barrier.

Coren zi Grem, despite his chirpy demeanor and child-like enthusiasm, did not strike Defi as an idler.

The problem was, upon Defi leaving the post at sixteen, he discovered his health had only been barely sustained with the careful adherence to the Church's daily practice of the Current.

In this world, there might be similar practice in mystic cooking, but it was never a good idea at such a young age to subject the body to too much work.

He did not tell the boy that. At the reckless age of fifteen, Cor would likely not believe him.

Defi laughed at himself. As if his own eighteen was an age so experienced? Nearly four years ago, if anyone told him to take care of his body more than his responsibilities, he could not have listened. He had been too obsessed with trying to prove himself.

In the gaze of the younger boy before him, he saw a similar light of ambition. But he could not say more than trite words without giving himself away.

Cor did not know his thoughts and spoke with a smile. "Teacher had word from Captain Larion. She says her survival was due in large part to a healing draft of yours."

Reisei Larion was a captain? Natan called her a superior officer. "A variation of savras extract, a minor concoction. Her survival was due to her great will to live and Natanel."

"Still, I wanted to thank you. I and my teacher would have been sorely grieved had she left us."

Defi did not know what to say, so he calmly mouthed a line from the Teachings. "A good person would always be grieved should their footsteps no longer show on the sand."

"You met her?"

"She wanted to talk to Natan before we left Genlet. Don't worry, she was vigorously running away from the physickers when we parted."

Cor laughed. "I'm glad."

He adjusted the plates and cups that Defi piled over the breadbox.

Samad, old bread, jam, cold smoked fish sliced into attractive fat-marbled orange-colored slivers.

Good enough.

Not to mention, it was the last of the food stores he kept in the kitchen proper. He tried not to think about the mess in the room under his feet.

"Do you know why Calor Ducan would send people to burgle your house?"

Defi, stirring the samad to mix the rice and nuts that had settled like silt on the bottom of the ceramic jar, glanced at Cor. Dark blue eyes that were almost violet met dark brown. He didn't comment on the suddenness of the question. "I wouldn't know. Only that something about the house or the land caused him to come all the way here."

"You investigated?"

"His friend was attempting to acquire the land in various ways."

"You let her go."

"I have no stamina for protracted games."

"Somehow I don't think that's the whole truth."

Defi huffed. What truth was needed? He felt the roil of melancholy in his chest again, a now familiar companion. He pointed toward the others. "Let's eat. I'll show you the rooms later."

He did not have to. Guards and investigators, even envoys from the court, could not so easily force themselves inside a dwelling.

Cor studied him for a long second, before smiling. "I heard excellent stories about the fish in the Lowpool."

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