by Fuse
I called it a town just now, and that was the best way to describe it. Certainly not a village any longer. In terms of what I had cooking for the future, we were starting to get pretty broad in scope. Of course, we were still busy enough with the sewer system and other underground infrastructure that it’d be a while before much would change aboveground. Given how much enthusiasm Mildo was giving his job, though, I had every reason to expect big things at the end.
The center of town was starting to get pretty full with buildings, even if most were only temporary. It was becoming our industrial district—a line of log houses located next to our storehouses, serving as workshops for building weapons, armor, and clothing. Kurobe was holed up inside one, laughing heartily with Kaijin as he worked on something or other. I was patiently waiting to find out what it was, since I felt I’d just get in the way of the creative process if I barged in.
So we headed for the building Shuna was in.
“Ah, Sir Rimuru!” She beamed as soon as she saw me. She quickly rose to pick me up, as if snatching me from Shion’s hands. She gave me a few loving pats as she toured me around, showing me how they were handling their work. They seemed to be having fun there, which I was glad to see, and as we chatted, she had no particular complaints.
Whenever Soei came back with his cocoons, they’d get right to silk production. Work on hemp and cotton fabric was already under way. I was impressed with their speed.
“Well, we have you to thank for that, Sir Rimuru,” Shuna said.
It turned out—and I had no idea about this—that Shuna had obtained the unique skill Analysis, the same one I had been using to such great effect. Apparently, she had inherited many of the benefits I had as part of my Great Sage skill—Hasten Thought, Analyze and Assess, Cast Cancel, and All of Creation. In her case, though, her Assess skills were so advanced that she could just use Magic Sense to analyze objects, where I had to use Predator on them first.
Pretty convenient. But thanks to earning that unique skill, she had lost a decent chunk of her magic energy. The hit had taken her back down to approximately B-plus level, although the evolution was still enough of a strength upgrade that she had no complaints.
“Sir Rimuru,” Shion said as our chat with Shuna winded down, “Princess Shuna has her work to handle. Perhaps we had best leave her to it for now?”
She had a schedule for me, just like any decent secretary.
“Oh? Are you taking good care of Sir Rimuru, then?”
“Of course!” I could feel Shion taking me away from Shuna. “I will see to all of Sir Rimuru’s needs, so there is no need to worry about that.”
“Hee-hee-hee! I certainly wouldn’t mind taking care of him, too.”
“Not at all, Princess Shuna. There is no need. I will fully provide for him!”
I could almost see the sparks flying. Nah, just my imagination.
Besides, I didn’t need to be taken “care” of at all. I had lived alone for long enough that I could do pretty much anything I needed on my own. Maybe it’s time I got out of here, I thought…
“Sir Rimuru! Who do you think is best suited to take care of your needs—me or Shion?”
I was too late.
“Um, yeah… You’ve got silk to weave or something, right, Shuna? I guess you could help out whenever you’re free, maybe?”
Help out on what, exactly? Hell if I know.
“Very well! I’m glad to be counted on like that!”
Shuna smiled. This was enough for her, I suppose. Well, good. Let’s just leave it at that. “Thank you!” I replied. She nodded cutely in response.
“Absolutely! I will gladly serve as your shamaness whenever you need!”
“Shamaness?”
“Yes! You have accepted me as your Oracle, the one who will revere and serve you, have you not?”
Um, did I? Because I think I would’ve remembered that! But I hesitated to say so, sensing it might be a tad dangerous.
“Oh, er… Yeah? Yeah. Sure. Have fun being my Oracle, then.”
I was welcomed with a rosy smile.
“You are in good hands, Sir Rimuru!”
So cute. I was ready to let her say just about anything to me.
“In that case, Sir Rimuru, we had best be off!”
Shion, of course, took the opportunity to ruin the moment, briskly lifting me up.
“Um, thanks?”
“You’re welcome, sir!” Shuna chirped, her smile taut against her face, as if she had just emerged victorious from some manner of epic battle.
Glad to see that was settled, then. I felt like the temperature around us had chilled a bit, though I’m sure it was my mind playing tricks on me. With a lot of things in the world, it’s better for everyone to just chalk it up to their imagination.
Now we were off to Benimaru and crew. They were no doubt busily testing their newfound abilities, and I wanted to find out what they had discovered so far.
We arrived at the underground cavern to find Benimaru and Hakuro crossing swords with each other. Benimaru’s wooden blade was, for some reason, shrouded in a white aura. When he slashed it at Hakuro, it emitted a bright arc of light that surged forward. It slipped right through Hakuro’s body, instead slicing a boulder behind him cleanly in half. The next moment, Hakuro appeared behind Benimaru’s back, his own wooden sword against his opponent’s neck.
This, apparently, signaled the end of the battle.
…U-umm… These guys are ogres, right? Because that little snippet I just witnessed looked so refined. Those moves. And that white light…? What’s up with that? Why’re wooden practice blades enough to smash up rocks? Why bother with the sword at all, then…?
Hakuro was the first to notice me. “Ah, hello to you, Sir Rimuru,” he said. “A rather nice place, this is. Quiet, too.”
“I do apologize you had to see me like this, Sir Rimuru.”
“Oh, no, no. I heard you were training, so I thought I would see how it’s going. Doing well, I suppose?”
“I think we are coming to grips with this, yes,” Benimaru said. “Hakuro’s regained enough of his youth that he’s as strong as a man half his age.”
“Hoh-hoh-hoh! Indeed, it is as Lord Benimaru puts it. I can feel the power flowing into this withered old frame!”
“Ah, but it’s only just begun for the two of us, Hakuro! I am still stronger than you, remember, which should have been enough to win, but…”
Benimaru’s face visibly soured. I could tell that his stores of magicules did outclass his foe’s.
“Indeed, young master—or should I say, Lord Benimaru? I fear, however, that you rely upon your strength reserves too much. You must lend an ear to your sword, the way I do, and become one with it. I would hate to let myself lose to you until you achieve that.”
Even before he evolved, Benimaru was a masterful enough fighter to sneak up behind my back. I still remembered how he evaded my Magic Sense long enough to slice right through my arm, even with Multilayer Barrier and Body Armor protecting it. I didn’t want to dwell on the thought much, but he might just be strong enough now to finish the job for good.
“Yeah, you lopped my arm off not long ago, didn’t you?” I said. “If you don’t mind my honesty, that threw me, man.”
“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! And then you regenerated it at a moment’s notice! I believe I was the one nearing panic.”
Well…that was true, yeah. Accurate, but it only happened because I stumbled upon Ultraspeed Regeneration on my feet back there. What Benimaru didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, though.
“I was pretty impressed with how you managed to completely hide yourself like that, though. How did that work?”
“That is a skill known as Battlewill. It uses my aura, which places it in a different family of skills from magic.”
As Hakuro put it, Battlewill was a unique sort of Art, or technical skill, that transformed the magicules within the body into fighting spirit, thus powering up the wielder’s physical form. If one’s aura is wh
at comes out while you’re not doing anything, fighting spirit is what your body releases while, well, fighting—although given the auras already available to high-level monsters, it struck me as six of one, half a dozen of the other.
There were a few other Arts, too. Instantmove, for one, which allowed exactly that, or Formhide, which forced your opponent to lose sight of you. Modelwill, which strengthened your fists and weapons, was more of a beginner Art, and that was the white light I had just witnessed—they could fire it off like a projectile. It was all a bit like magic, except not magic. No casting time, for one, which made it more useful to put into practice in a pinch.
Given how anyone with the right level of intelligence could learn Arts, I guess the sight of ogres busting them out shouldn’t have been a surprise. Shuna had that illusory magic on her side, too. I suppose it should be a given that high-level monsters had this kind of thing handy, as a rule. Great if they’re on my side, really annoying if not.
If your garden-variety adventurer ever ran into a monster with that kind of arsenal at their fingertips… I couldn’t guess how many unlucky sods met their ends that way. I took a moment to say a silent prayer for them.
This Battlewill thing, though, was interesting. I definitely wanted to learn about Formhide, which Magic Sense was apparently powerless against. My human form gave me normal sight, but if I hadn’t had that, I would’ve been wide open to that attack back there. As they put it, the Art begins by suppressing your sound, then your smell, then your temperature, then your spirit—and once you reach that level, you no longer even disturbed the magicules around you.
Definitely a skill I wanted to have.
“Lord Hakuro was our teacher,” Shion explained, “and the most powerful swordsman among our retainers.”
“Neat. So, Hakuro… I want to learn that Battlewill thing, and I’d like the hobgobs to get trained in it, too. Mind flexing your muscles some more for me as my official Instructor?”
“Hoh-hoh-hoh! You seek a favor from this decrepit old man?” He fell to one knee. “It gladdens me to hear! If it be for your sake, Sir Rimuru, I would be overjoyed to exert my weary bones one more time!”
“Sir Rimuru,” Benimaru added, “you said you planned to build a nation in this land, yes? You were serving as king, and Rigurd as your top minister? I know nothing about government myself, but when it comes to military issues, I believe there are few who could equal me. If you wish to appoint me to a role along those lines, I would gladly accept it.”
“Fine by me…but that’s kind of a step down for you, isn’t it?”
“Nothing of the sort. We serve you now, Sir Rimuru, and we have offered our loyalty. If I may fulfill this by serving as your vassal, then I would gladly put everything I can offer on the line.”
Hmm. I wonder how to handle this. He certainly seems earnest. He’d made a similar request a few days ago, but I honestly hadn’t given it serious thought yet. Maybe I’m the one who owes him some more respect.
“All right. I hope I can count on your strength, then.”
I had to repay his resolve one way or the other, I figured. Now was the time. The time for me and these ogres to firmly, finally, walk hand in hand.
“That is terribly unfair! Sir Rimuru! If this is how it will be, I would like to be appointed to a post as well!”
Sheesh. She startled me.
Shion, still firmly holding me up to her chest, was visibly pouting. Oh brother. Did she think I was kicking her out of the cool kids club or something? Guess I’ll need to whip up something for her, too.
I jumped out of her arms and to the ground, transforming into human form as I did. Before I touched solid earth, I produced a change of clothes from my stomach and put it on—a move I had been practicing in secret. Benimaru and Shion looked surprised, but they kneeled silently before me instead of saying anything.
“Well then, Benimaru, I hereby appoint you to be my Samurai General. From here on in, you will be responsible for running my nation’s military affairs.”
“Yes, my lord! I will serve you well, on and off the battlefield!”
“And you, Shion, I hereby appoint as my Royal Guard. Your duties will remain chiefly secretarial, I suppose, but either way, do your best, all right?”
“Thank you so much, my lord! I will make a full effort every day to serve you as best as I possibly can!”
So now I’ve not only named them all, but I’ve given them three “classes” to work with. They couldn’t have been more rapt with joy. Kurobe seemed to be loving his own job, too. I should’ve given them all formal titles earlier. Shuna and Soei deserved something, too.
Just as the thought occurred, a figure suddenly appeared next to Benimaru. It was Soei, and it looked like he had pretty much jumped right out from Benimaru’s shadow—the result, he explained, of the Shadow Motion skill he earned as part of his own evolution. I knew it involved harnessing people’s shadows to move from point A to point B in the shortest time possible, but I wasn’t too deep on the specifics.
I had learned it myself—it was part of what I had picked up from the direwolves—but I’d yet to actually try it. Probably more useful than I thought at first sight. I had so much stuff at this point, I hadn’t had the time to fully experiment with it all. I’d better get to grips with that soon, at least. Especially if Soei’s already well versed in it. It’d be great for gathering intel, I think.
Upon noticing me, Soei fell to one knee. “Reporting, my lord!” he barked.
“Y-yeah?”
“I have completed my cocoon-gathering mission, and on the way back, I witnessed a group of lizardmen on the move. Spotting them so far away from the marshes they call home seemed highly unusual, so I thought it best to report to you as quickly as possible.”
Soei seemed perfectly serene. His breath wasn’t ragged or anything, but I was sure he must’ve hurried right over. My Sense Heat Source skill told me his body temperature was slightly higher than normal.
“Lizardmen? That is odd,” Benimaru said thoughtfully.
So lizardmen and orcs…? Something was definitely happening now.
“Soei,” I said, “I’d like you to handle some intelligence work for me. Starting today, I want you to serve as my Covert Agent, gathering information for me and our cause.”
“I could dream of nothing better, my lord,” he replied, quietly but resolutely. “I was always told that my ancestors were gifted in the so-called dark arts—and I look forward to exercising those skills to their fullest extent for you.”
So now the ogres and I were one big happy family, more or less. I had a small group of loyal agents working under me. They had evolved into ogre mages, and they had regained a fair number of their ancestors’ abilities.
When they first evolved, I had guessed they were all through the wall and well into the top of the A-ranked range. But now that they were obtaining skills and getting used to their new bodies, their individual ranks were changing. Head and shoulders above the rest of the village in strength, but still, changing.
I had the feeling that my assigning jobs, or “classes,” to them had helped cement the exact amount of magical force each had to work with. The same had happened with the hobgoblins who were assigned classes.
In the end, success in battle had less to do with brute strength and more to do with how you matched up with your foe skill-wise. It was really my skills that defeated Ifrit, not whatever my slime body did for me. Seeing these ogre mages obtain unique skills in the same way was fascinating.
I had a feeling that Shuna had forced my hand a little bit, but I didn’t mind. She did used to be a shamaness, I guess, so the class I gave her worked well enough for me. She seemed happy enough with it, too.
So now I had six ogre mages working under me, each with their own class. Benimaru the Samurai General; Shuna the Oracle; Hakuro the Instructor; Soei the Covert Agent; Shion the Royal Guard; and Kurobe the Swordsmith. I liked it.
Gabil was finding some very receptive minds among
the goblin villages he’d paid personal visits to. They didn’t need any lofty speeches about how strong he was—they were eager to follow him practically at first sight. That’s how the weaker races worked, he supposed. And if they showed any sign of defying him, he was ready to whip them into submission.
The chief’s orders no longer figured in Gabil’s mind. He had the able warriors of each village gathered together, bringing whatever food supplies they could scrounge up from their storehouses. They numbered seven thousand in all, dressed in flimsy leather armor and bearing crude spears with stone-hewn spikes. Not worth relying on in battle, but this was fine for now. The ones too scared to fight had already fled anyway.
“Elders!” he bellowed. “Are there any other villages in the area I should be aware of?”
The elders exchanged glances with one another, then one finally stepped up timidly to respond.
“Well…perhaps not a village, exactly, but there should be one other settlement, yes.”
“Settlement?” The elder’s choice of words rankled the lizardman. “What of it? What is so worrisome about this ‘settlement’ you speak of?”
The elders responded with an astonishing tale—the story of a goblin band riding direwolves. It made no sense to him. Those were strong monsters, those canines, roving in packs to rule over the plains. On their home turf, even the lizardmen warriors would watch their step. Why would they bend to the will of such a low-level species like goblins? It was preposterous.
And the elders’ tales grew even taller as they continued. Apparently, they were being led by a slime, of all things. Ridiculous, Gabil thought. The lowest level of monster there ever was! Maybe they could find a way to charm the minds of the equally stupid goblins, but direwolves? Come on.