Daily life in a Slime Dungeon

Bluesy stared blanky at the throne, lost in thought while his king lay asleep. The other slimes concocted an engineering feat by having him appear seated, head resting in his palm, through the power of propping him up with sticks, strings, and rocks. Bluesy had grown fond with the throne. The old rock-demons had built it themselves, engraving them with demonic markings that used to be very scary to Bluesy.

Thirty days and thirty nights – or somewhere thereabouts, slimes weren't known for their calendaring skills, after all - since his king fell under a foul spell. The strange orb pulsed beside the sleeping King, siphoning the Black Devil's power like a bottomless cup of night-brew. Bluesy, in turn, had taken charge with a mix of pride and unease. The King's Secretary – it still sounded bizarre.

But things had gone surprisingly well.

After every team settled on their roles, the Slimes' efficiency had drastically gone up. In these 30 days, his efforts proved to be rewarding. The Bonnies were all but wiped out, those furry pests! Predatora were wisely retreating deeper into the heart of the Azure Forest, perhaps realizing that once slimes learn to use sticks in anger, they become far scarier. Stumps! Stumps filled the landscape! And they were multiplying like...well, like Slimes.

Each team now had at least 10 members, with the King's guard now having 14 soldiers stationed around the base, patrolling and training themselves in combat. Most of the Slimes had already split twice, with a notable cleaner from the maid squad having split itself six times. 'They try too hard, maybe I can call them, hardtrier, poyo!'.

Even with this progress, a wave of self-doubt gnawed at Bluesy. Despite devouring foe after foe, he wasn't growing like the others. Had he hit some strange Slime ceiling? He caught a glimpse of his reflection on a newly polished crystal ('Thanks, Maid team, poyo.') and cringed. Could he actually be shrinking? 

He shook himself, his outer shell rippling and bo-yo-yoing. Now was not the time for thinking. He was the King's Secretary! The highest honor he had held in his long and slimey life; he couldn't afford to make a mistake and lose this now. Even th-

A slam echoed throughout the dungeon.

The noise thundered through the dungeon, ripping him from his thoughts. Every ounce of him quivered with adrenaline. He darted out of the throne room, trying to figure out the source of the noise. Unfortunately, Slimes are not known for their hearing, so he jumped and swung throughout the cave searching, almost melting his shell in worry. 

Another slam.

This time it was closer. Near the entrance? It must be. Another snake? What about the guard Slimes? No time for think, it's time for do, poyo! He jumped into the air, rolling his own body with his hardened pseudopods into a buzzsaw-like shape, and spun throughout the dungeon.

He rolled by a bunch of Slimes, that seemed to be running away from the entrance. It was hard to really see what their faces expressed, as his world was spinning so fast he could barely hold inside him the bones from the lionird he had devoured early. A mixture of physical and mental nausea overtook him.

As he reached the rocky gates to his kingdom, he forced himself to slam into a nearby wall to stop spinning. After a heavy thud, he quickly recollected himself, and looked at the entrance.

A humanoid figure stood tall holding a green Slime in his claws. The figure wore a black cape that seemed to be as dark as shadow itself. 

White hair. Long teeth. Claws. Blood. Darkness. Red eyes. Poyo, this might be end.

"Damn Slimes, why are you always so persistant. I'm just an inspector, so stop attacking me!" The figure shouted with a deep and growly voice, throwing the green Slime far, far, far inside the dungeon. The exasperated 'poyo' could be heard fading into the background.

"Halt! Who enter Kingdom of Azurea! War or Peace?!" Bluesy shouted as loud and powerfully as his Slimey insides could handle. Unfortunately for Bluesy, that didn't seemed to phase the intruder.

"Neither, I'm just here to collect taxes." the figure grumbled, adjusting his cape.

A wave of dread washed over Bluesy. 'Oh my poyo. Vampires. This not good.'