That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, Vol. 6

by Fuse

“And I am Sufia. Sufia of the Three Lycanthropeers! I have no ear to lend to the servants of Clayman, but if you worship Lady Milim, that is another story.”

  “Mm. Lady Sufia, is it? I will make sure to remember that. So what’ll it be now? I could take on the both of you at once, if you like?”

  Middray calmly folded his arms, implying that he liked his chances.

  “Can I ask you a question before that?”

  “Mm? What is it?”

  “I… I just mean, how can a mere human be so strong? Or are the Dragon Faithful human at all? Something seems strange about you.”

  Middray nodded at this, his curiosity piqued. “What do you mean by human?” he asked. “That’s the crux of it. If you are inquiring about our species, however, the answer is simple. We are dragonewts, like Sir Gabil over there.”

  “What?! The same as us?”

  “Yes, precisely. The difference is that instead of evolving from lizardmen, we are the descendants of dragons that ‘humanized’ themselves and mated with the human race. But in essence,” he closed with a smile, “we are the same.”

  “Ah… And come to think of it, my sister Soka turned wholly human in appearance.”

  “Yes. But almost none of us can bring ourselves back to our original shape. The priests you see strewn around us don’t have any skills like Dragon Change or Dragon Body. There is hardly any difference between them and human beings.”

  Middray turned his eyes toward Sufia.

  “But that power is still handed down. Our worship of the dragon does not allow us to forget the blood within us. Any more questions, Lady Sufia?”

  “No. Human, monster, it doesn’t matter. I just wanted to know if your skills were the result of a weak human building himself up to perfection. You say you are little different from humans, and if so, I must pay respect to your efforts.”

  “Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha! You think the same way I do. One may be born with strength, or one may acquire it. Magic-born are so weak because they rely too much on the strength they’ve always had. That’s why they compare their strengths based on magicule capacity and so on. True strength can’t be seen with the eye. The level of your skills is the only solid, trustworthy index there is.”

  Sufia was born strong. She had more fighting skill than most monsters, through no special effort of her own. Her massive well of energy, and the surging aura it created, made even magic-born go out of their way to avoid her. Her battle senses made full use of this, and her instincts alone had brought her to where she was. Now, Middray’s words made her realize how little time she had spent polishing her Arts, her learned skills.

  “So you mean I can become stronger?”

  “Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Precisely. There is no such thing as an experience that can win over being in actual battle. Here, come at me! I’d be happy to spar with you.”

  He remained where he stood, arms crossed and standing high.

  “Lady Sufia and me at the same time?” a dubious Gabil asked. “Are you sure you aren’t being a little too conceited?”

  Middray just grinned at him. “Hmph! I could take you on without even using my arms, little man!”

  Gabil wasn’t about to take that sitting down.

  “Lady Sufia…”

  “We’ll tackle him together. We have to admit it. He’s a strong one!”

  The battle between Alvis and Yamza was about to reach its raging climax.

  The two were evenly matched, but Yamza had finally used his ace in the hole.

  “Ha-ha-ha! Well performed, Lycanthropeer! Your ability to keep up with me is astounding. But now, my victory is assured!!”

  “What?”

  “Pfft! Did you think this magic sword was my only secret weapon? Yes, you may be strong—strong enough to hold me back. I will freely admit that. However! What if there were two of me?”

  With that shouted question, he unleashed the magic inside the bracelet on his left wrist. This was a Doppelganger Bracelet, an incredibly valuable Artifact capable of producing a perfect copy of the wearer, right down to their clothing and equipment. Now Alvis had to fend off two Yamzas at the same time—and if one was an even fight for her, she would have to be at a severe disadvantage.

  “Well? If you capitulate to me now, I could be convinced to spare you—”

  “So what?”

  “…What did you say?”

  “You think that parlor trick will outclass me? You really are nothing more than a lackey of Clayman’s. Quite the would-be finisher, there.”

  Alvis didn’t give an inch, openly ridiculing her foe.

  “Then die!”

  And even before Yamza could scream that at her, Alvis played her own final card.

  Now the top half of her body was a beautiful woman, the bottom half that of a large, black snake. This was Alvis’s true, Animalized form, and now she was ready to use its full force.

  Unlike Phobio and Sufia with their focus on close-quarters fighting, Alvis was usually thought to be a long-range specialist, lobbing her magic attacks from afar. In truth, however, she was a dyed-in-the-wool fighter, masterful at short range in the way anyone serving the Beast Master needed to be.

  Her fighting style, however, ventured from the beaten path. Alvis brought her staff up to her forehead—and in the next instant, it disappeared, as she grew a golden horn from above her eyes. Finally free, her aura surged outward from her, greatly amplifying her power. This was her second Transformation and her most secret of abilities.

  She stood there, her entire body protected by dragon scales. The whole space around them belonged to her, her aura producing streaks of lightning in the air.

  “Wha?!” Gobta spat out, sensing danger. There was no way Alvis could remain coolheaded enough to tell friend from foe like that.

  “You said your name was Gobta? You have my permission to move out immediately.”

  “Ohhh, you don’t need to tell me twice, ma’am! Riders, retreat!”

  One shout from him was all it took to make the goblin riders flee the scene. The surviving magic-born took the opportunity to quickly surround Alvis.

  “You fool! You intend to take us on alone?”

  It was nothing for her to worry about.

  “Is that how little you think of me? Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Die, you mob of idiots!!”

  By the time Yamza saw it unfolding, it was already too late. One magic-born before him fell to the ground, spewing blood. One turned to stone and shattered against the earth. One had his body literally rot away on the spot, until nothing but a pile of dust remained. His army was being killed, struck by ailments by one degree or another, and Yamza had no way to stop it.

  “Yoouuuuuu!!”

  Alvis was, in the end, best suited for close-quarters combat. The Golden Snakehorn’s lone horn on her forehead became a symbol of the death that permeated the atmosphere—and then Yamza realized that his defeat was total.

  “Surrender, and I will take you prisoner and guarantee you your life.”

  Her offer was the only method of survival he had. A quick stare with her Snake Eyes had completely shattered his Doppelganger’s body. It even had the power to destroy equipment, apparently, leaving Yamza’s partner to fade away before battle even began.

  …My limbs are starting to go numb. I won’t be able to defend myself before long… What kind of sheer strength do these Lycanthropeers enjoy?!

  It was bad luck that Yamza had to be paired with the strongest of that trio. He chose the wrong woman to pick a fight with, and he had no idea. Alvis rarely had the chance to fully exercise her power, since she was often picked to serve a commanding role. As a result, she was seen as the de facto manager of the Lycanthropeers, not as a formidable warrior in her own right.

  That was Yamza’s appraisal as well, and he had totally underrated her.

  The war was won. But it was not over. Clayman was a sly demon lord, one who would never forgive betrayal among his own armies. And just when Yamza prepared to nod his agreement to Alvis’s offer:


  (—You know I would never permit that, yes?)

  It was Clayman’s voice, booming within Yamza’s mind. “Uh?” he instinctively grunted. Then his body began moving, beyond his own control.

  “S-stop! Stop that! Please, Sir Clayman, stop this at once!”

  A hand took a bluish-purple orb out from his pocket, then brought it to his mouth.

  “Mmghh!!”

  He locked his jaw as tightly as he could, trying to scramble away from it. It was a pointless act of resistance, and it didn’t last long. Struck by Clayman’s Marionette takeover, Yamza’s body was no longer his own to control.

  “…What are you doing?” a suspicious Alvis asked. But by the time she did, Yamza was busy swallowing the orb in his hand—a section from Charybdis’s body.

  “Hah? Harbhh, nnhhh… Graghaghaaaahhh!!”

  “What on—?!”

  Alvis tensed up, confused—as long, thin tendrils shot out from his body toward the dead lying around him, taking in the corpses. He ballooned in size, turning into a vast, grotesque ball of flesh. Uncontrollable magical energy flowed within the Alvis-dominated air, forming a hurricane-class blizzard.

  The creature before her consumed, expanded, and burst. Having no monster core of its own, it was a self-destructing being, rampaging across the land before meeting its demise. But its temporary power was every bit as strong as Yamza’s—and the nature of it was deadly. Its insatiable desire to eat everything in its path was just the same as well.

  This was the “forbidden” tactic Yamza was reluctant to use, the intricate trap Clayman had laid. Charybdis had now appeared once more.

  Alvis’s face tightened as she threw her full force into an attack. It didn’t work. No regular strike would ever pierce this constantly expanding Charybdis. Its Ultraspeed Regeneration took in the corpses around it, rapidly reforming it into a temporary body for itself.

  “Ngh! This monster…!”

  All Alvis could do was gnash her teeth, her Snake Eyes and lightning having no effect. This monster was disaster-class, on a level far, far above her. Even the strongest of the Three Lycanthropeers could do little about it by herself. The only saving grace was that this was a distance away from the main battlefield; there was time before this could start to affect her allies but only until Charybdis could finish creating its body.

  Desperation flew in like a violent storm. The worst part was how this monster wasn’t satisfied enough using Yamza as its substitute core—it had taken in his Ice Blade as well, sucking up all the heat around it and making the local temperature plummet. The monster was destroying all in its path, turning its aura into an Ice Blizzard, pummeling the area with icy snow and intense wind. That was scary enough, but what Alvis feared even more was the moment when it released all the heat energy it had taken in.

  Those who can teleport out might be fine, but everyone else…

  …would die.

  “I hate this! May all the gods curse that bastard Clayman!!”

  Letting her true nature take hold, Alvis screamed as she continually attacked—again and again, no time in between to breathe. It was all in vain. Even if she scarred Charybdis’s exterior, any damage to the monster itself was light. It just healed itself too quickly.

  “Dammit! I’ve just got to get everyone out that I can—”

  Even through the desperation, Alvis tried to take the best measures she could. To her, this meant trying to relay a plea to Benimaru to retreat everyone from the battlefield.

  In the end, however, this never happened. It didn’t need to.

  “You’re ignoring orders, Alvis. I told you to get out if you faced a battle you cannot win.”

  There, with no previous warning, Benimaru himself appeared.

  “…Sir Benimaru?!”

  “Oh, Charybdis, eh? My offense did little against it last time, but how about now?”

  He gave her a defiant smile.

  “Sir Benimaru, this monster is just too—”

  “I know. It’s perfect for testing my current powers.”

  Benimaru raised his right hand and grasped it—both Charybdis and his own strength. The fight was over in an instant. His feet planted on the ground, his sword, covered in jet-black flames, slashed the monster’s flesh, although it did not fully slice through its freshly constructed body. But something was different from before. Unlike with Alvis’s efforts, the Self-Regeneration never started. Dark flames were dancing across the gash, rapidly engulfing its entire body.

  “Tch. Not quite there yet. We have no time to play with here, so I’ll sadly have to end this.”

  He turned back toward Alvis, leaning his sword against his shoulder, seemingly unconcerned with Charybdis.

  “My apologies. I was hoping we could spar once it had achieved its complete form, but…”

  The gigantic beast had not taken to the air yet, but its body was already nearly the length of half a football field. Now, however, it had been fully encased in a black dome.

  “Away with you,” he whispered, and then a percussive boom! shook the land.

  It was Hellflare, his wide-range razing attack, this time far more powerful than ever before.

  Benimaru’s Dominate Flame gave him a full grasp of the flow of magical energy, stabbing right through Charybdis’s Magic Interference and rendering its body into ash. It proved to the world that Benimaru’s control over magicules completely overpowered this monster’s.

  “You’re kidding me!”

  Alvis’s surprise was understandable. If his attacks worked on Charybdis, it meant Benimaru’s magic force surpassed the monster’s. This meant that Benimaru himself was disaster class, on the same level as Alvis’s master, the demon lord Carillon.

  “I have some business to take care of, Alvis. Effective immediately, I hereby appoint you as my aide to command our entire force.”

  “…Yes, Sir Benimaru.”

  She undid her Transformation to kneel down and take the post. She had more than a few questions for Benimaru, but now was not the time for them. Calming her frenzied mind, she meekly accepted her orders.

  Charybdis was an unprecedented, unexpected threat, but when faced with that irresistible force, it fell without a moment’s delay.

  “Hoh, hoh-hoh-hoh… This is quite a surprise. I was expecting Yamza to turn tail and flee. But imagine, dispatching Charybdis that easily…”

  “Mm-hmm! I kind of have an affinity for it, but not even we could pull off a kill like that.”

  “Clayman’s forces are destroyed. The mission’s a failure—the losses immense. He should have just sat there and played nice, the way our fellow jester told him to.”

  “Yes, yes. Well, Laplace warned him. Clayman can’t blame anyone for it but himself.”

  Footman and Teare exchanged looks as they spoke. Before them was a heavily wounded Phobio, kept on his feet by the attending Geld.

  “We’ll need to brief him about this, so I’m afraid playtime is over.”

  Footman himself was unhurt. Teare wasn’t, but she was still healthy enough to fight. Judging by their injuries, Geld and Phobio appeared to have lost the day.

  “You think you can leave?” Phobio groaned, staggering as he tried to keep himself up. “I knew you guys were bad news. If we can keep you here, Alvis and Sufia will show up before long. Plus, we’ve got Sir Benimaru. It’ll be the end for you.”

  He was scarred from head to toe, but his wounds had already closed up. The speed at which they healed was mind-boggling, going well beyond the Self-Regeneration most beastmen had and almost reaching the realm of Ultraspeed Regeneration. Phobio had inherited that skill to some extent after the previous Charybdis swallowed him up.

  “Just give it up already, kitty!” Teare shouted as she gave Phobio a punch that sent him reeling. It didn’t leave Phobio down for long. In a few moments, he was back on his feet.

  Teare was the quicker of the two, but she could never quite land a lethal blow. Phobio, on the other hand, was slowly but surely damaging Teare’s
body. He might have appeared defeated at first glance, but the longer the fight lasted, the more likely it was that it’d end otherwise.

  Footman, meanwhile, was rolled up like a meatball, bounding around at hyper-speed and trying to run Geld down. Geld used his great shield to deflect his trajectory, swinging his Meat Cleaver to try to smash him up. His attempts were blocked by Footman’s thickened skin, preventing him from dealing decisive damage.

  On offense and defense, it was safe to call them perfectly even—but only because Footman hadn’t begun seriously fighting yet. And now, with Charybdis defeated, Footman’s recess time was over.

  “Mgh?!”

  Geld, realizing this, positioned himself in front of Phobio.

  “What is it, Geld?”

  Before he could answer, Footman began raining attacks on the both of them. These were balls of magic, each one enormous and stuffed with energy—a simple attack but one with enough force to alter the landscape around them. One of the magic orbs was enough to shatter Geld’s shield and even smash up the armor covering his body. It damaged Phobio in the process, and he no doubt had Ultraspeed Regeneration to thank for still being alive.

  (Hooooooh-hoh-hoh-hoh! We weren’t tasked with taking care of you two, so we’ll extend you the honor of letting you go.)

  (I hope you’re grateful! If we were serious about this, neither of you would be in this world any longer!)

  Neither Geld nor Phobio could stand up any longer to contest them. When the dust from the explosions finally settled, Footman and Teare were gone.

  “…This was a total defeat,” Geld groused. “I thought I had some strength, but I suppose there’s always someone better than you.”

  “No, Geld. If you hadn’t been here, I’d probably be dead right now. Sorry to drag you down…”

  “Not at all. We may have lost the battle, but we’re still alive. As long as we win next time, we’re good.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right!”

  Phobio was not a weak beastman. Footman and Teare were just too strong. Strong enough that you could even call them demon lords. Perhaps Geld had more magical energy at his fingertips, but without the ability to use it shrewdly, that power meant nothing. Geld focused entirely on defense against Footman, but even he knew that he’d never win in a serious fight opposite him. For now, though, that was fine.