by Fuse
Gabil needed to see it for himself. Perhaps there was a trick behind the founding of this “settlement” he could appropriate for his own ends. If all went well, perhaps even these alleged direwolves would join his side, turning the vast plains into his personal hunting grounds. So he sprang into action, letting his desires move him.
The location Gabil was given bore no village. This annoyed him, but he let it slide. If he wanted to gain control over the direwolves, he had to expect a hitch here and there. Being released from any sense of duty to his lizardman superiors made it impossible for him to rein in his lust for power, but still, he knew patience was key.
Right now, the existence of his chief was nothing more than an obstacle on the way to his army’s objectives. If he could gain the cooperation of the direwolves, the other lizardmen would no doubt recognize their new king by then. The lords of the plains, paired with the king of the marshes? Who had anything to fear from those low-level pigs now, no matter how much of a mob they were?
Nobody. Gabil was sure of it. He would quickly suppress them, and then he would rule over the Forest of Jura.
And that, I imagine, would prove worthy enough a feat to place upon Sir Gelmud’s feet.
Picturing the joy his master would show him upon hearing the news made it easy for Gabil to remain patient. He already had men stationed at Lake Sisu, awaiting additional orders. Supplies were still tight, so they had to take action soon. There was no time to waste.
One of his men reported spotting fresh tracks in the area. He immediately placed an order. A group of ten elite fighters, himself included, would ride upon their hover lizard mounts toward their objective. Gabil didn’t even bother to hide their presence in the plains. The direwolves were a concern, but if they were doing the bidding of goblins of all things, they couldn’t have been any threat now.
I will need to train them, he thought, and bring them back to their former glories!
He had no idea what was waiting for him. His head was too full of pride at the idea of serving Sir Gelmud, the only master he truly loved.
CHAPTER 3
THE ENVOY AND THE MEETING
Several days had passed since I had appointed my pseudo cabinet of ogre mages.
Just as they had said, things appeared to be going well between them and the hobgoblins, Rigurd included. Soei was providing raw materials to Shuna, and she was already successfully spinning silk thread from it. The fabric it produced had made her the target of astonishment from the village’s goblinas. Which made sense. Compared to the simple hemp from the goblin era, this was in a whole other dimension.
Shuna was now instructing the goblinas under Lilina’s leadership—including Haruna, right up front—on the Art of sewing. The ogre was now serving as the de facto head of the clothing workshop. She was working closely with the armorer Garm as well, exchanging opinions on making comfortable clothing and trying to improve their output.
It wouldn’t be long before we had a line of formal and everyday wear available to us. I was looking forward to it.
In much the same way, Kurobe was heading up our weapon forge. It was a learning experience for him and Kaijin, and they were both better artisans for it.
Kaijin was more focused on overseeing our efforts at mass production—it’s not like any single person had the stamina to bang away at metal every single day for weeks on end—but he still had a wealth of knowledge to glean. He probably thought it best to leave the nuts and bolts of weaponsmithing to Kurobe while he focused on his passions in the realm of research.
It was already producing results. I caught him when he was talking with Kurobe about some kind of weapon hobgoblins could use while mounted. Hopefully, they’d remain a solid team for a good while to come.
Soei, meanwhile, was leading a small group of hobgobs as they built a sort of security network around town, lined with small-scale devices along the way that would sound an alarm whenever someone approached. At the same time, he was constantly gathering intel and relaying it to me as needed.
That was thanks to Replication, which Soei could now use to create up to six copies of himself at once. We could also keep up with each other through Thought Communication, and since there didn’t seem to be any distance limit for these clones, he could send them out across the land to conduct espionage as needed.
It was worth noting that the clones generated through Replication had exactly as much ability in battle as their original bodies. The difference lay in stamina, or lack thereof. The clones had almost none, in fact, which meant they lacked the energy to launch any mystic arts. Skills were another matter, and using abilities like Shadow Motion and Sticky Steel Thread was no problem. Talk about useful.
Soei’s abilities seemed more than a little inherited from mine, in a way, and he had already fully mastered them. It was interesting, actually, seeing how different people could use the same skills with such differing degrees of virtuosity. Not like I was a dunce, I don’t think—it was more like Soei was a genius at it.
To tell the truth, I had actually sent out a scout or two of my own before I formally employed Soei for the job. Intel gathering was a fundamental part of my mission, and if the orcs and lizardmen were acting suspicious, I couldn’t simply assume that our neck of the woods was safe. The hobgobs were still amateurs at that kind of thing, though. The best they could do was observe their faraway neighbors from a distance.
As irritating as that was, they’d be in danger of capture if they came too close to anyone—and even if they escaped, they’d still tip off our presence to potential enemies.
Putting Soei on the task was absolutely the right answer. These were the products of Replication, after all. If they were spotted, he could just make them vanish. And having Thought Communication handy was huge—in a world without so much as a cell phone, we could now talk and trade info far more quickly than before.
“Should I go on reconnaissance, Sir Rimuru?” I remember him asking, cool as a cucumber. “Would you mind?” I’d said, and he’d immediately replied, “Right away, my lord” and simply disappeared. A textbook Shadow Motion maneuver.
Soei seemed coolheaded, not the kind of guy to make any brash moves. He was well suited for recon, in other words. The perfect Covert Agent.
Benimaru, meanwhile, was conferring with Rigurd and the other elders about how to keep this town secure.
I had established a new department of the army and left him in charge, although the only other member at this point was Hakuro. Rigur and the rest of the town’s security force were busy securing food and natural resources; I couldn’t draft them into the army that easily. I’d probably have to reorganize them at some point and field volunteers.
That appeared to be what Benimaru was talking about with Rigurd.
“I’d like to create an organization suited for combat,” he told me, “selected from worthy candidates willing to dedicate themselves to battle duty. Would that be all right with you?”
“Sure,” I said. “Sounds great. Let me know once you’ve got a roster handy.”
I wanted to leave the whole thing to him, really, but that felt a tad too irresponsible, even for me. I was charged with making the final decisions, and I had to fulfill that duty, at least.
We were still basically a collection of monsters, but little by little, I felt like we were forming an actual nation of sorts. It was nothing I could’ve done—or at least, done this quickly—without Benimaru and the other ogres. I’d hope I could rely on them for a while to come.
That just left Hakuro—standing in front of me even now, wooden practice sword in hand. He was a master of the sword; there was no doubting that. You underestimated him at your own peril. He was elderly, but his spirit was like nothing else.
Having this new human form and everything, I thought I’d learn some sword skills of my own. This was, to say the least, extremely optimistic, as was the prospect of learning new Arts for myself anytime soon. My last experience with that sort of thing was back in middle-schoo
l phys ed, and I’d never even held a sword before. No way it’d be that easy.
I figured I’d be a quick study, what with Hasten Thought and all that, but Hakuro quickly taught me the error of my ways. He had that, too, it turned out, so I had no advantage at all from the get-go. The end result? I basically stood there and let this ogre mage beat me up for an hour or so.
The ease with which I had been learning skills had probably spoiled me. Unlike those, Arts were earned strictly through training and concerted effort. It was never going to be quite that easy for me. And while magic seemed a bit like Arts, they essentially ran on two different engines.
Yeesh. Icicle Lance came to me just like that, too, when I absorbed it. No point complaining, though. I might be able to do the same with Arts as well, but it looked tricky. There would be no shortcuts with this—I’d just have to give up and admit that it’d take constant, extensive practice.
Oops. Now was no time for mulling over this. I had my own practice sword in hand. Manifesting as an adult slowed down my reaction time, which meant I was in child form so I could devote my all to this.
Launching Magic Sense, I honed my consciousness on the world around me. Sense Heat Source and Keen Smell were also activated.
Question. Enhance Ultrasonic Wave to evolve the extra skill Sense Soundwave?
Yes
No
Ah. Good job, Sage. Just what I was hoping to hear. I thought “yes” to myself, and with that, I opened up a treasure trove of information—the movements, temperature, smell, sound, and everything else related to the magicules surrounding us. Now there was nothing that could escape my senses.
That gave me an extra jab of confidence as I took on Hakuro, his sword casually lifted up to his chest. The next thing I felt was a dull blow to the crown of my head. It couldn’t have been a cleaner strike—no pain, no damage. He didn’t put any force into it at all. Still, though… That was skill, not speed. We were on completely different levels.
“What was that?”
“Hoh-hoh-hoh! I call that Haze,” he explained with a smile. “It is part of my Formhide skill set, and the more magic I invest, the more I can dilute the presence I project. I believe you have the ability to obtain it for yourself, too, Sir Rimuru.”
It didn’t sound very likely. It apparently took him a good century or so to learn, so I didn’t like my chances that much.
“Yeah, I… I’d sure like to, sometime.”
Hakuro nodded approvingly.
It hurt my feelings a little, but I couldn’t do much about it. Arts weren’t skills, after all. They took time. And whatever advantage I had in skills—and I had a big one, I was sure—it was nothing compared to what Hakuro could do.
I didn’t think I was acting all high and mighty, but he sure humbled me there. And maybe I could just cast a Flare Circle and be done with him, but that wasn’t the point. This was a swordsman. One born as a nameless ogre, tirelessly practicing his skills in the shadows, away from public sight. No wonder he was the strongest in his tribe. I doubted he had shown a full effort yet, and I was sure his newfound youth only made him tougher.
In an ideal world, he’d be known across the land for his talents. That’s what I honestly thought.
“Right,” Hakuro said, smiling like a doting grandfather. “One more time, then.”
Before we could make another move, though, we heard the sound of a large bell ringing. Something had triggered Soei’s alarm system. Thank heavens for that. I had no chance of beating Hakuro, and I was ready to call it a day. So we headed for Rigurd’s residence instead.
He ran right up to us once we were in sight. He tended to do that a lot. Maybe my mere presence stressed him out a little.
“I have news to report, Sir Rimuru,” he said, half in a panic. “A lizardman envoy has come to visit!”
Lizardmen? I was expecting that unwelcome visit sooner or later, but I guess they’re here, huh? Ahead of the orcs, no less. Well, I was ready to deal with either. Let’s hear this one out.
I headed for the town’s entrance to greet this envoy. They hadn’t arrived yet, instead sending an advance messenger who told us to bring everyone in the village out front. I asked why the guard didn’t just shrug him off, but he was riding a hover lizard, a fairly large mount reserved only for the knight classes, and I’m sure that must’ve made Rigurd pee his pants.
If this was a troop of knight-level lizardmen, no goblin village would stand a chance. They’d be ripped apart. And if a knight was first to greet us, I could only imagine what the main outfit looked like. We’d need to mind our manners.
There were four of us there at the entrance—me, Rigurd, Benimaru, and Hakuro. I made sure everyone knew to tread carefully. “Absolute politeness, unless I say otherwise,” I said.
“Yes, my lord,” Rigurd said, the rest nodding with him.
“Hmm? Where is Shion?” Benimaru said. Apparently, the word politeness reminded him of something.
“Oh, I think she’s been cleaning my place since morning, but…”
“Wh-what?!”
For some reason, Hakuro appeared shocked at my reply.
“Um, is that a problem?”
“N-no… Not at all…”
“Indeed,” Benimaru added. “She has grown. It should be all right…”
This was starting to concern me. And as it turned out, I should’ve been alarmed. Shion was soon there at the entrance, providing tea. Working hard as my secretary, I figured. I wanted to compliment her on it—and then I took a sniff.
Um… This is tea, right? There were these weird, seaweed-like leaves flopping over the edge of my cup. It could not have been any potable beverage.
I looked to Rigurd, seeking out a possible explanation. He averted his eyes. What the heck? Benimaru, meanwhile, had his eyes firmly closed, not giving me a second glance, and Hakuro had vanished, using his Arts to become one with the wind.
They knew, didn’t they? And all the time, as I hesitated, Shion was looking right at me, waiting for my praise.
How am I supposed to heap praise on her for this? My instincts were screaming at me to dash the cup against the ground, but was I doomed to this fate all along…? Why the hell did I have to be human right now?! It would’ve been a lot easier to deal with this as a taste bud–free slime. Just use Predator to take it apart, and I’d be perfectly safe.
Too late to curse my bad luck now, though. Steeling my resolve, I slowly reached out for the cup in Shion’s hand. Just as I did…
“Ooh, some tea? I was just feeling a bit thirsty!”
Gobta, freshly back from his patrol detail, grabbed the cup and emptied it in one gulp.
Nice one, dude!! Perfect! A warm round of applause for the man!! Shion’s face was now a mask of pure anger, but Gobta didn’t bother noticing. Or to be more exact, he was in no shape to notice. When a small plume of foam escaped his mouth, he immediately collapsed, twitching in a spasm. Yeesh. That could’ve been me, man.
Shion looked on quizzically, apparently not expecting this. It was a cute piece of body language with her looks, but I wasn’t fooled. From now on, she was banned from any work involving food or drink.
“Uh, Shion,” I said, “next time you make anything you want people to eat or drink, make sure to run it past Benimaru first, all right?”
Benimaru shot me an icy stare. Like I cared. You’re the boss, man, I silently replied. You handle it.
He joined Shion in staring awkwardly at the ground.
I still felt vindicated. If anyone had actually gotten hurt here, what would they do then? …Oh right, I guess Gobta did, kinda. But… Ahh, he’ll be fine. I’d have to thank him later for serving as my inadvertent taste tester. And I’d also have to count on Benimaru to keep the body count from rising any more.
By the time we heard the full lizardman envoy thundering toward us, about an hour had passed from the initial alarm call. I reverted to slime form, enlisting Shion to hold me in her arms. Just in case, I explained. I couldn’t hel
p but feel overall safer as a slime.
Shion was all gung ho about her guardian role, too, and there was no reason to throw shade on that. I bet she wants to make up for that tea disaster, besides. Wonder how she did cleaning my place, though, come to think of it? …No, I couldn’t let that bother me now. I shook off the ill omens in the back of my mind and focused on the envoy up ahead.
There were around ten lizardmen, and after a moment, one of them, chest puffed out, dismounted his hover lizard and sauntered up.
The leader, I guess?
“Thank you for greeting me! I will give this village, too, the chance to submit to my rule and authority. I hope you will consider it an honor!”
Talk about a ridiculous opening line. This wasn’t a negotiation so much as it was a declaration. I was too dumbfounded to have an easy response. What was this idiot going on about? And none of my companions knew what to make of it, either.
“I apologize, sir,” Rigurd offered, “but asking us out of the blue to submit to you like this—”
“Pfft! Have you not heard yet? Those pigs, the orc race, are on the move! They will attack this very village before long. And I am the only one who can save your puny, pathetic hides!”
According to this lizardman, at least, we were already his loyal subjects.
Certainly, if we were about to be overrun by an orc horde, seeking solace under the direction of the lizardmen was one option. I was still waiting on Soei’s report, but until we knew exactly what we were dealing with, it paid to work together, perhaps.
Still, though…
“Ah yes! I understand there are some among you who have tamed the direwolf race to do your bidding. Whoever accomplished this task, I will gladly appoint as one of my top advisers. Bring him here now!”
Ummm…
Okay. We could fight together, yes, but what if the team we aligned ourselves with was a pack of idiots? “The great thing to fear is not a competent enemy, but an incompetent ally.” Napoleon or someone said that, right? It sounded true to me.