That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, Vol. 2

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That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, Vol. 2 Page 16

by Fuse


  This is it, the chief thought, his heart crushed. But I won’t…I won’t go down that easily…!

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha! You will be a worthy adversary for me, orc general. I gladly accept the challenge!”

  The chief knew this was the end for himself, calmly readying his spear as he approached the general. He would be the last chief of the lizardmen, the one who led them to their final fates, and he intended to do so with pride…

  The chief guard of the lizardmen ran through the forest, the orders still fresh in her mind. Her exact destination, though, wasn’t clear. As much as she honed her senses, searching for a trace of the aura that belonged to the envoy known as Soei, she could find nothing. So instead she ran, trusting in her instincts.

  Lizardmen were nimble creatures in the marshes, but less so on dry land. Her breathing was ragged, her heart felt like it would explode, and she could feel herself growing more fatigued by the second. But she never stopped running. She had a bare minimum of duty for the monster who offered them an alliance, and she intended to fulfill it.

  It had been around three hours since she began running. It had been a constant run ever since she slipped out of her bonds, and while her mind was still strong, a single moment’s distraction and she was likely to fall on the spot.

  She knew the truth well enough. There was no guarantee that the monster Soei was anywhere ahead of here. If he was, there was no guarantee he would lift a finger to help. The thought was starting to occur to her—maybe she should just keep running? For good? Away from home?

  No! How could I betray my people? My own father?

  She tried to banish the thought, focusing on other matters.

  As far as she was concerned, the charge engineered by her brother Gabil was something she should have stopped. She knew that, above everything else, what her brother wanted was their father’s approval. But she could never bring herself to tell the chief. She respected Gabil too much—as her brother, and as a lizardman warrior—and she thought he would become a splendid chief in time without her butting in on his affairs.

  And now look at what that earned them.

  Perhaps this was just the result of a hundred happenstances coinciding at once, knocking everything out of whack. But she couldn’t help but think it. If only she talked things over with him more, as a sister, maybe they could’ve avoided all of this. And if that was the case, she had a responsibility to uphold.

  No, she couldn’t abandon her homeland. If she stopped running now, she’d never run again. So she kept at it.

  Someone was watching her. Someone that she, running with all her might, could never have noticed. He was nimbly leaping from tree branch to tree branch, following her every move without a sound.

  Now he smirked to himself, a bit of drool falling from one edge of his lips. He was waiting for the moment. The instant when her exhaustion took her, and she could no longer move…

  And when it did, he soundlessly descended in front of the chief guard.

  His arms were long, like a gorilla’s, his legs those of a carnivorous animal. His head and torso, however, unmistakably identified him as a member of the horrifying orcish race.

  “Geh-heh-heh… You appear tired. Your muscles must be so well-toned, so delicious.”

  Pain filled the chief guard’s eyes as she looked at the monster. He was a high-level orc, no doubt about it. And he had more with him, a few dozen behind his back. Survival was not in the cards for her.

  “You…”

  “Geh-heh… Bah-ha-ha-haaaaa! I am one of the generals of the orcish army. Consider it an honor to take up residence in my stomach!”

  “An…an orc general?!”

  The chief guard readied the spear on her back. But it was clear to everyone involved how this fight would go. She was already slowed by her fatigue, totally bereft of the strength she would need to defeat the orc general and his men.

  She knew it was hopeless. But she was ready to fight anyway. Her pride dictated it.

  “Oooooh yeah! Now this is getting good!”

  The mysterious man did a little dance where he stood, his cheerful voice booming. His eerie-looking mask and clothing were like nothing else on this planet.

  Laplace, the man who had exchanged a few words with Gabil earlier, was playing with three crystal balls, as if teaching himself how to juggle. Each one was about the size of a person’s head, and images were visible inside them all. A keen-eyed observer would be able to see that each one depicted a scene from a battlefield.

  All three were valuable magical items by nature, capable of seeing through the eyes of any person of one’s choice and projecting their field of vision into the crystal. Only one person could be followed with each ball, and that person had to physically touch the orb to make the connection work, so Laplace could only track three at once. But that was more than enough for his needs.

  He had connected the crystals to three of the orc generals he found easiest to control, and now he was using them to steal glances of the current battle. It wasn’t something he took a prurient pleasure in. It was his job, part of the duties his client placed upon him. But Laplace was still taking full advantage, apparently having a blast as he peered into each orb in succession.

  The war was unfolding just as he wanted it to—just as he had been enlisted to make happen. “Nice! That oughta please the boss,” he said to nobody in particular.

  But something was different this time. He actually got a response.

  “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

  “What’re…?!”

  A woman appeared before the confused Laplace, a fleeting beauty to her form. Her green hair was as tangled as a wall of ivy, loosely covering her entire body, and its translucence made the contours of her frame visible.

  “I am Treyni, one of the dryad wardens of the forest, and I have no intention of letting the monster tribes do as they please here. Thus, I’m afraid I must remove you.”

  The moment she completed her declaration, she began casting a spell. This unnerved Laplace.

  “Whoa! W-wait a second! I ain’t in no monster tribe!”

  “Silence. The disturbance you have caused to the forest already makes your crime clear.”

  The magic began to take effect.

  “Wait! Wait-wait-wait! What’s that spell…?!”

  “Come to me, spiritual summon Sylphide. And with you, I summon the extra skill Unify!!”

  The dryad constructed a shell of magicules over her own spiritual body. It was similar to Rimuru’s Replication—although she did not, strictly speaking, have any physical form at all, apart from the holy tree that housed her soul. Those properties allowed her to unify her spirit with others like her.

  “Unified” with the high-level Sylphide, Treyni now had the ability to wield the full powers of that spirit. And what she unleashed next was one of Sylphide’s most powerful magics.

  “Your judgment is here. May you pray for your ultimate forgiveness. Aerial Blade!!”

  The spiritual Unification meant Treyni no longer had need for long casting times. In an instant, Laplace was locked inside a gap in the air itself—one occupied solely by great blades of air that rent everything they slashed through. There was no escape once imprisoned.

  It was a fearsome move, and Laplace, if anything, weathered it well. His own intrinsic Anti-Magic skills let him escape mortal injury. All it managed to take from him was a single arm—and with a puff of smoke, the arm went into so-called Stealth Mode. This was an original skill, exclusive to Laplace, that combined illusory magic like Deception, Infiltration, and Concealment, and he was so deft at casting it that it even let him deceive the spiritual senses of a dryad.

  “Yikes. Prone to violence much, lady? You coulda let me at least get a word in edgewise… Well, my work’s done here anyway, so I think I’ll get while the gettin’s good. See you around!”

  He had apparently set up several potential escape routes for himself in advance. When the smoke cleared, Laplace was gone.
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br />   “…I cannot believe he escaped my grasp,” Treyni whispered. “But…not from a monster tribe? Then who are those people…?”

  No one was there to answer. Treyni filed the question away for later, instead turning her eyes toward the battlefield. Running her mind through the roots of the plants that surrounded her, she used her dryad skills to swim in an ocean of information.

  “Things do not appear to be going well… I wonder how much I should really be trusting him.”

  The whisper disappeared into the wind, just like the one before it. Traces of concern began to manifest themselves upon her face.

  She should have been the one taking care of the orc lord. But she could sense someone maneuvering behind him. Until she could grasp who, she couldn’t make any rash moves. And while it might not be likely, if the orc lord managed to absorb her as well, it could spell the creation of a new demon lord and make it impossible for her own sisters to handle him. That prevented her from doing too much in public.

  It also prevented her from going very hard on the magic-born Laplace, giving him the chance to escape. That hurt her. The lizardmen were being consumed by the orcs out there, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

  But Treyni was still focused on her own role as a warden of the forest, and what that meant to her.

  Gabil continued flailing away in his desperate battle. Things were getting more and more one-sided.

  The orcs seemed to know no fatigue, attacking them without pause or end. The federated goblin-lizardman forces, unable to escape from their encirclement, found themselves picked off one by one. And even if Gabil tried to break through, how many of his men—wounded and in a state of total exhaustion—would follow him?

  It seemed clear that now was the time to abandon the slower goblins for good. There was no room for retreat, but by this point, Gabil had to think about guaranteeing himself as many survivors as possible. Warfare, in general, stopped once it became clear who the victor was—but these orcs seemed intent on completely wiping Gabil and his force off this plane of reality. There would be no terms offered; just murder, and then the feast.

  The orcs saw them as nothing but prey, and it triggered a primal sort of fear. The formation began to fall apart at the seams, the weaker-minded ones succumbing to terror like frogs being eyed by a snake. The goblins were already a lost cause, running around like mad in search of any solace, and the orcs weren’t having any of it. They chased them down, killed them, and consumed them. Not even three thousand functioned as a fighting force any longer—and to the lizardmen, a good fifth of which had fallen, the news was no less grim.

  It was already becoming difficult to lead them as a cohesive army. But Gabil kept pressing his teams forward, prodding the orc lines for any possible route of escape. His tactics were impeccable, his abilities being used to their fullest.

  Then a group of those orc soldiers in the black armor began to move. A well-ordered team, unlike the common rabble, and each one protected from head to toe by metal. They might have been as physically strong as any other orc, but they functioned as a trained army, and their equipment was a massive upgrade.

  The orc leading them bore an aura that overwhelmed all the others, proving how much stronger he was than the rest. An orc general, as powerful as an entire tactical squadron all by himself. And he—just one of five among the horde—had two thousand stout orc knights following him. His rank was A-minus, and he answered directly to the orc lord himself, the leader’s most trusted of officers.

  It’s over…

  In Gabil’s eyes, the demonstration of power was decisive.

  No escape, either. Best prepare to die in battle, then…

  If he wanted anything right now, it was to die like a warrior, at least.

  “Gah-ha-ha-ha-ha! So it’s the leader of these cowardly pigs! Do you have the courage to duel me?!”

  He could never win. Gabil’s scale mail was already in tatters, the fatigue building across his body. His foe’s armor was a work of art, enhanced with magical protection, and the aura he exuded told of his strength.

  If he accepted this invitation, at least Gabil would enjoy a glorious end on the battlefield. Perhaps he could take a general with him, if things went well enough.

  “Guh-huh-huh… Very well. Let me take you.”

  Striking down the enemy leader, crushing the last true support his lizardman fighters had to rely on, would make the massacre that much easier to carry out. That was the orc general’s thought, and Gabil was aware enough of that. He also knew that struggling any more than this would only lengthen the agony. Any thought of the reinforcements the chief apparently counted on was gone from his mind.

  He had already selected this patch of land as the last one he would ever stand upon.

  “I thank you.”

  Then all was solemn as they began their duel.

  Holding his magical Vortex Spear, Gabil sized up his foe, searching for any weakness.

  “Come on!” the orc general howled.

  “Bring it! Vortex Torrent!”

  With all his remaining force, Gabil released the most powerful attack he could—a killer move, combining his latent lance skills with the magic his current weapon provided.

  But…

  “Chaos Eater!!”

  The orc general spun his own spear in the opposite direction, canceling out the force of Gabil’s vortex. It began whirling faster and faster, unleashing its own aura that took on a sickly yellow color before descending upon the lizardman.

  Is he trying to eat me?!

  He rolled to the side, relying on instinct, but the aura continued to close the distance.

  “Geh-heh-heh! Just another reptile,” the general laughed. “Your kind deserves to slither along the ground!”

  Gabil refused to give up. At least one strike; that was all he wanted. He grabbed a clod of earth, throwing it at the orc general—as childish as it must have looked, he had to deliver at least one clean blow. The attack disappeared futilely within the yellow aura, showing exactly how outclassed he was.

  Gabil was too occupied with dodging the aura to focus on any other strikes.

  The orc general thrusted his spear at him, a twisted smile on his face…

  “Whoa! Better not get distracted, there!”

  A familiar voice reached Gabil’s ears. At the same time, he felt himself being launched backward, just barely avoiding the hilt of the orc general’s spear.

  Wh-what happened?! the confused Gabil thought. Then came a roar that deafened the battlefield, like the heavens had fallen upon it. Gabil thought it was another orc trick at first, before realizing it wasn’t. Even the orcs, with their insurmountable advantage, were visibly panicking.

  The tides were changing anew, and violently so.

  CHAPTER 5

  THE GREAT CLASH

  Just as Gobta was reaching out to rescue Gabil, I was checking out the battle from above.

  It was a pretty fearsome sight. The orcs must’ve thought they had a massive advantage, and now we’d just flipped the chessboard on them… Just us, and a few ogre mages, really. I couldn’t blame them for freaking out. I kind of was, too.

  ………

  ……

  …

  After I sent Soei off to the lizardmen, I decided to start assigning battle posts. We wouldn’t all head out there; I wanted a setup that could work quickly on its feet. We didn’t know what we’d be dealing with, so I had to be sure we could extract ourselves fast if need be.

  That was my watchword as I gave the order to prepare for war. The construction effort across town was continuing to go without a hitch, but we still had no real defenses in place. Not even an outer wall, since it’d get in the way of the building boom. No way we could weather out a siege or anything. It was much more logical to picture ourselves bringing the battle to them.

  Along those lines, I told the people not joining me to prepare to travel to the treants. They might have to set off before we made it back to town.

/>   Before any of that, though, I had to assemble all the monsters in town and tell them what we had decided on. I tried to act as kingly as possible.

  “The final battle will be waged in the marshlands,” I began. “If we win there, we’re good. If we don’t, I’ll let you know via Thought Communication, so I want you to abandon this place and flee to the treant settlement. I’ll also ask the humans for help, if it comes to that, and you’ll likely fight alongside them against the orcish army. I’ll be honest with you; this isn’t some gang of little kids. I’m planning to win this, but if I don’t, don’t use that as an excuse to lose your heads. You gotta stay calm and follow the plan!”

  I was once again up on some kind of pedestal, like an offering to the gods. Delivering these lofty speeches was honestly embarrassing, and this whole setup made it even worse. In some ways, the idea of giving lectures like this ever again was more distasteful than the horde of orcs.

  Perhaps that was why I hardly felt scared at all about our predicament. Monsters can be sensitive things and succumb to the emotions of the crowd pretty quickly. They all listened intently, picking up on the confidence I was inadvertently radiating, and I guess it worked. Maybe that embarrassing display was worth it after all.

  “Now, the people joining me in the primary force…”

  The monsters slowly grew more excited, not knowing what to expect. I guess they all wanted part of the action—I didn’t remember them being so warlike, but who knows? Whatever. I didn’t let it bother me as I continued.

  “For this battle, we will deploy with a team of one hundred goblin riders with Benimaru as their commander. Hakuro will be his aide-de-camp, and Shion will be our main point man on the field. Soei will be joining us, although he’s elsewhere at the moment, and I suppose Ranga will be my transport. That is all. Any questions?”

  I could hear small commotions arise among the crowd. A hundred must have seemed like an awfully small number. I saw Shuna make her way to the front, serving as their voice.

 

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