Dragged to Another World… and I Took the Goddess with me!

The creature's arm ripped through the slime wall, spraying chunks across the floor with a wet splat.

Finn was still sprawled on top of Lysithea, head buried between her chest like he'd bought a one-way ticket to boob heaven. Seraphina, by sheer divine luck, had landed on a cushioned pile of slime instead of the nasty bed of spikes just inches away.

"Can't you do something about that?!" Finn shouted, muffled by slime melons as he gestured toward the flailing claw. "That thing's about to bust through!"

"Yesss~~~" Lysithea hummed, calm as ever. She lifted him off her chest with slow, deliberate gentleness. She had bent just slightly to lower him, setting him on the ground like a babysitter putting down a particularly rowdy toddler. Finn's head, which had been squished snugly between her boobs like a pervy coin jammed in a vending machine slot, now stood beneath them, forced to look up at the very pillows that had just suffocated him.

The chamber looked eerily similar to the last level of the caves, though the glowing walls and slime pools were fewer, leaving patches of unsettling emptiness.

Another arm tore through, slime raining down. The monster was relentless. Finn's blood turned to ice, though some irrational part of him still felt safer standing beneath Lysithea's ridiculous sized chest.

The wall flexed like stretched taffy under the creature's strength—before suddenly snapping back, sucking the monster inward with a loud squelch.

Finn blinked. "Is… is that it? Is it dead?"

"Nooo~~~" Lysithea crooned, eyes narrowing at the wall.

"…Wait, what—"

KRRAAACKH-SHPLAT!

The wall exploded open. Slime gushed onto the ground as the creature burst through, its chest-bird screeching, its grin splitting impossibly wide as its gaze locked on Finn again. A cold shock tore through his spine.

"Why does everything always want me?!" he whimpered, pressing himself deeper into Lysithea's stomach like a terrified child hiding in their mom's bathrobe. She purred, utterly unfazed.

The monster dragged itself free, talons gouging into the cave floor as its feathered tail lashed side-to-side, predatory. Its bird-head clacked twice like a broken metronome.

Then it lunged.

Finn screamed at the top of his lungs, high-pitched and pitiful, throwing his arms over his face.

And then—nothing.

No pain. No tearing.

Only the sound of slime stretching violently, followed by a heavy SPLAT-THUD.

Finn cracked one eye open.

The creature was on the ground, half-consumed by slime tendrils, twitching and flailing—but Lysithea was still calmly standing there, as if she'd just swatted a fly.

For once, Finn was glad he'd put his faith in the insane slime woman.

The creature thrashed violently, its limbs bound by thick slime tendrils. Some stretched from the wall itself, pinning its hind legs down, while others writhed up from the smooth piles of slime scattered across the floor—including the one Seraphina had landed on.

Finn exhaled shakily, half relieved, half horrified. "Y-Yeah, that's good. That's… that's working." He chuckled nervously, though his eyes never left the monster's convulsing body. "B-but are you sure that's gonna hold it? Because it kinda looks like it's about to—uh—rip free and eat us."

Lysithea didn't answer.

Then the ground quivered.

Small slimes began slithering toward the restrained beast—crawling from cracks, sliding down walls, even gliding past Finn's feet without acknowledging him. Dozens of them, maybe more, converging like ants swarming a dropped crumb.

Finn's jaw dropped. "Holy hell…"

The Queen's command was absolute. The slimes latched onto the monster's limbs, torso, and winged tail, their gelatinous bodies tightening like living shackles. The cave echoed with wet squelches and high-pitched shrieks as they began pulling, dissolving, consuming.

The creature roared, thrashing harder, snapping one front arm free from a tendril. It slammed it down with a crash, slime splattering across the floor.

Finn flinched. "O-okay, cool, no big deal. Just lost one arm restraint. Still plenty left. Totally fine." He laughed nervously again.

But then the freed arm tore further—until the entire limb wrenched off. The sound was like wet cloth ripping. The creature's screech became a distorted, furious howl.

Finn's stomach twisted. He could see it now—these slimes weren't just mindless blobs. Lysithea's spawn carried a bacterial acid that dissolved and consumed whatever they touched. Even this.

But wait… Finn thought, pulse racing. If her slime is acidic… then wouldn't the Forgotten One's slime be acidic too? They're made of decomposition. They're literally rotting matter bound together. Oh god—acid slime versus acid slime—what the hell kind of slime battle is this?

The monster convulsed, movements turning frantic, desperate. Its one remaining front arm clawed the cave floor, scraping itself raw as it dragged forward inch by inch. Slime tendrils strained, stretching, nearly snapping.

And then—its gaze snapped to Finn.

He froze, blood draining from his face.

The creature planted its claw, groaned low, and began dragging its grotesque body directly toward him—shrieking as if rage itself fueled its survival.

Finn instinctively shifted his leg back, ready to bolt, panic bubbling inside. "L-Lysitheaaa? Any time now? Any plan??"

The beast clawed closer, slime hissing, its malformed grin widening as if tasting his terror.

Then—

It stopped.

Dead still.

And did the unthinkable.

It planted its arm on the ground, shoved upward—then promptly toppled backward like a failed backflip compilation video. The cave shook as it hit the floor with a wet, thudding smack, crushing half a dozen slimes beneath its bulk.

The monster writhed on its back, kicking and flailing like a dying dog. Each movement squashed more of Lysithea's spawn into paste, while others were absorbed into its rotting body, warping its form. The thing's colors shifted, its flesh rippling, as though its insides couldn't decide what they were supposed to be.

Finn gagged. "Oh god, it's like a toddler using every crayon—everything's just wrong colors now."

The creature rolled, tendrils stretching to their limit before snapping like overstressed ropes. In seconds, it tore free, slime restraints collapsing in shredded heaps.

It rose again, staggering onto three legs. The torn stump of its fourth arm dangled uselessly, revealing writhing strands of slime inside, twitching like spaghetti pretending to be nerves.

Then its head jerked toward them.

The grin was back—wider, angrier, warped by fury. The bird fused to its chest was half-melted from Lysithea's attack, its beak clicking unevenly like a broken metronome.

Finn just watched amazed and scarred at the same time. Scarred by its unsightly look and amazed by its persistence.

The monster crouched low, every movement twitchy, primal.

And then, with one final screech, it launched into a charge straight at them.