"Pathetic creature!" Fischl declared, her eyepatch gleaming under the sun. "You face the sovereign of the Immernachtreich! Your conductive constitution is no match for the night-vision of my raven!"
"Oh no," Oz muttered.
The final stretch: the electro-puddle chute. Fischl took the high road—a rickety wooden bridge. The slime took the low road—bouncing directly into the puddles, each impact sending it rocketing forward like a pinball of pure voltage. Fischl x Slime - Race to the Finish -ViciNeko-
Oz, perched on the cart's canopy, sighed. "Mein Fräulein, it’s a slime. It doesn’t have a constitution. Also, the race has started." "Pathetic creature
As Fischl’s cart caught fire (again), the slime shot past the finish line—not with a bang, but with a soft, triumphant bloop . It jiggled smugly on a pedestal, wearing a tiny winner's laurel that had somehow materialized. The final stretch: the electro-puddle chute
The slime, true to its nature, didn't steer. It squished . It compressed itself into a flattened disc to slide under collapsing pillars, then re-inflated mid-air, bouncing off a ruin guard's disconnected fist to gain altitude. Fischl, meanwhile, was shouting incantations while desperately yanking her lance-left, narrowly avoiding a cactus. Her hair, a magnificent silver mane, whipped in the wind like a battle standard.
The slime bounced once, sparking affectionately, and offered her a single electro-charged berry.