by Fuse
It was a bit like my Universal Shapeshift in practice, but it’s too bad they couldn’t look 100 percent like human beings. Maybe with practice, though? I suppose the males had less interest in looking human than the females, but that skill must be invaluable when conducting undercover operations in human kingdoms.
The transformation also affected their strength, not just their appearance. Their already-honed bodies would be covered in solid, protective dragon scale, which automatically projected a Multilayer Barrier that protected them from melee and magical attack.
Dragonewts also had Resist Magic, something I discovered when the Receive part of my Glutton skill granted it to me. It made me regret expending all that effort to “Provide” them with Multilayer Barrier, but all the same, I felt like I got something out of the deal.
I probably gave them a few more skills as well, but we’ll find out what they were later. It kind of annoyed me that I couldn’t control that unless I deliberately restricted a skill from Glutton access.
Which was fine and all, but I was starting to wonder what kind of defensive skills Gabil enjoyed. Time for an experiment. Transforming into human form, I mercilessly fired off a ball of magic at him—a skill I had just learned.
“Wh-what are you doing?!” he asked, a bit shocked as he was blown several yards away.
“You dumbass!” I spat at him, making him stare blankly at me. “I’m making you pay for stabbing your dad in the back. And remember, I’m not giving you a second chance!”
It was my warning for him not to screw around with me, but it was needed, I thought, to make it clear that I would not tolerate any further betrayal. Just a little add-on to the experiment, but I didn’t tell him about that. Gabil seemed to accept it well enough. He was a dumbass, definitely, but I couldn’t hate him for it. He’d give Gobta a run for his money.
The ball of magic, by the way, didn’t seem to affect him at all. I just fired it all casual-like, so I figured it was about five times the force of me punching him with all my might, but… Well, maybe he’s too stupid to feel pain, or he’s managed to inherit my Cancel Pain skill. Dinosaurs were pretty dull to pain, too, I read somewhere, and maybe that applied to this species, as well.
Either way, I had made myself clear with him, and I think Gabil was okay with it.
So really, Gabil had gotten a fair bit stronger—from a C-plus lizardman to a straight-on B-ranked dragonewt. He still retained his previous skills as a warrior, but they were all much more powerful now, without a doubt.
But these were no ordinary lizardmen, it turned out. Soka was now an A-minus, the rest of her team B-plus rank. And Gabil had broken through the wall and reached A level. Now he would’ve been able to take on Gelmud and had a shot at whipping him.
With the right training, they might grow even stronger, albeit not up to the ogre mages’ level. I figured I’d ask Hakuro to devote particular attention to Gabil’s practice sessions.
I introduced the royal guard to Soei and left them in his hands. Under his tutelage, they could all be talented ninjas before long. He was never one to show mercy, after all.
As I expected, Soka and her team immediately pushed themselves toward Soei.
“I can use them as I like?” Soei confirmed with me as he watched them like a deer caught in the headlights. His voice was cold, enough to make me even more scared. But the royal guards didn’t mind one bit, smitten with Soei as they were, waiting expectantly for me to give the word.
“Sure,” I answered, “go ahead. Train ’em however you want, Soei.”
“As you wish, Sir Rimuru,” he replied, formally agreeing to the request.
A smile instantly erupted on Soka’s face. I couldn’t really understand why, but if they were all happy about it, I didn’t mind.
Now I had to deal with Gabil and his army.
Soei seemed to have ample control over Soka and the royal guard, but Gabil’s crew was entirely my problem. They were my forces now, so I had to give them something to do—but before that, getting them situated was the first thing.
Food wasn’t the problem, but clothing and shelter were.
The only armor they had was half-broken scale mail. They were equipped with spears, but the tips were nicked and scratched, making them almost useless. I asked Kaijin, our de facto minister of production, to prepare some new gear for them as soon as possible.
Considering their natural habitat, someplace near water would be nice for them to live in…but all we had was the river that flowed nearby, and I didn’t feel like banging together a new riverside hamlet just for the sake of a hundred people. Then, as if a light bulb went off in my head, I recalled the underground lake. The place where Veldora was ensconced, which I had used as an experimental proving ground for my skills. That would be big enough, I thought. Not too many people could make it past the sealed door at the entrance, and as a place to sleep, it would be perfect for Gabil and crew. The lack of light could be an issue, but I could teach them Magic Sense and they could work out the rest.
When I first encountered the lake, it was so densely packed with magicules that fish couldn’t even survive in it. That had thinned out quite a bit since. Maybe enough that a B-ranked monster could just barely withstand it? I was hoping we could use that magic to cultivate some more hipokute herbs, which would be the perfect job for the dragonewts. Shelter and a work assignment, just like that—two birds with one stone.
My final worry was whether they’d be strong enough to venture in and out of the cave. Gabil was in A-ranked territory—nothing could stop him in there—but the B-grade dragonewt warriors would still run into several monsters they’d have trouble with. The evil centipedes, at B-plus rank, were a powerhouse.
If I tossed them in there and they wound up being prey for the monsters, I’d sure have a guilty conscience about that.
Understood. In terms of simple rankings, the evil centipede would outclass them, but if five or more dragonewt fighters worked together, victory would be easily attainable. That was calculated using their current weapon set, so once they have more decent gear on hand, that will boost their chances at victory. With healing potion on hand, the odds of anyone dying would be extremely low.
The Sage chimed in with the perfect advice. Dragonewts had wings and flight-based abilities. Evil centipedes were strong, yes, but apparently weak against aerial attack. The centipede’s breath would need to be watched out for, but with Multilayer Barrier, no one would be critically hurt.
So trusting in their skills, I formally gave the contract to Gabil’s force.
“Gabil, I want your people to cultivate hipokute herbs in the cave for me.”
“Leave it to us, sir!” His eyes clouded up as his heart soared with emotion. “I, Gabil, will work my fingers to the bone for you!”
Perfect. I’ll do that. He sounds motivated enough.
With them living in the cave, they could serve as guards, too. I wouldn’t have to be so wary of the cave all the time, like I did now. I also made sure to forbid them from working in the cave unless they were in groups of five or more. It’d be a boon for their training, too.
Finally, I gave each one a generous supply of healing potion, in part to provide motivation for their task. They all had permission to use it whenever the need arose. Even if they were caught unawares and faced critical injury, this should save them from danger.
Gabil and his crew seemed to get the hang of things after a month or so, able to freely navigate the cave without any personal danger. With Garm’s and Kurobe’s new weapons and armor, their strength was more polished than ever.
I went down there just to check on them, but things seemed to be going great. Their eyes did nothing for them in the dark, but with Magic Sense and Sense Heat Source safely taught to them all, there were no issues. They had formed teams of five, with three teams working in tandem at all times and staying in touch with Thought Communication. Whenever trouble came along, they could respond quickly.
When it came to leadership
skill, at least, Gabil was a born genius. They grew used to life in the caves far more quickly than I had thought—and living in an environment where battle was a near constant seemed to be growing their experience and strength. It sounded like with five of them at once, they could stop an evil centipede without having to rely on potions at all.
They couldn’t be more reliable.
It might be fun to have them engage in a mock battle with the goblin riders. A starwolf was ranked B alone, but with a seasoned hobgoblin on its back, you could add a plus sign to that. They were a seasoned unit at this point, so the goblin riders might even be above them…but with the advantage of flight, I thought the dragonewts could put up a surprisingly tense fight.
That was the sort of thing that occurred to me as I observed the dragonewts’ growth.
Now Gabil’s team was devoting itself to cultivating hipokute. About ten, relieved from cave-patrol duty, were observing the herbs’ development and changing their horticultural approach in different regions to see which one produced the highest quality.
The plan was to go with whatever proved to work best; then I could make recovery potion with it, sell it off, and earn some much-needed foreign currency. It was one way I figured I could earn some coin before I set off to observe human society.
I called for Gabil.
“Right, how’s it going?”
“Heh-heh-heh… I am so glad you asked! It couldn’t be better! Behold, the fruits of our labor!”
He handed me a few weeds. Yes, weeds. I gave him a look, then a taste of Dark Thunder. Oh, don’t worry, he wouldn’t die. I can adjust its intensity perfectly fine now.
“Gahh! What was that for, sir? What did I do?!”
“You dumbass! These are just weeds! What are you growing down there anyway?!”
“Wh-whaa—?! A thousand pardons! I, Gabil, have perhaps been hurrying ourselves along too much.”
“You don’t get this just by ‘hurrying’ a little… Ugh. Could you be more careful? With that dense lake of magicules, managing to grow weeds around it is a feat in and of itself.”
Our exchanges grew tense at times, but really, it was largely going as planned. Hipokute was a rare plant, and the dragonewts were, indeed, making steady progress. The hardest part, in a way, was teaching Gabil the difference between the herbs and plain old weeds—but it couldn’t have been easy, relying entirely on touch instead of sight for the job. I had my analysis skills to work with, but Gabil and his team had nothing as convenient as that.
Only experience would make up the difference, and trying to hurry that along was pointless. It’d be nice if there was some light down there…but we can tackle that issue later.
Gabil, for his part, acted like the de facto master of the caves these days, walking around like he owned the place. The mere sight of him made the monsters flee, and some of Gabil’s personal entourage could even whip an evil centipede singlehandedly. Part of the cave was their territory now.
I was impressed, but I definitely didn’t offer him any praise. It’d go right to his head, and then he’d screw something up. Kind of like me, in a way. Takes one to know one. That’s why I trusted him to step up and perform the work I assigned him.
We were still busy with cultivation for the moment, but once that got on track, we’d have to think about mixing next. I could produce oceans of potion with my skills, but I didn’t want to. I wanted a system that could manufacture this stuff without me.
I wanted to avoid creating a town that was incapable of anything if I wasn’t around.
You can make all the mistakes you want, so give me at least one solid success…
Thinking to myself, I left the cave.
The dragonewts were well situated now, and Gabil and the rest were fully used to life with their fellow townspeople.
A long series of peaceful days followed. Ah, nothing like peace, I blithely thought as Shion carried me around, her breasts bouncing against me in a steady rhythm as she walked.
Boing, boing, boing, boing. Ooh, this feels great…
I was just letting myself descend to ever-lazier thoughts when—
Sir Rimuru, we have an emergency. Several hundred winged horses are headed for the direction of town.
Soei sent me a cold, to-the-point message via Thought Communication.
“Shion, it’s an emergency. I’ll call for Benimaru and Hakuro, so get Rigurd to alert the townspeople for me!”
“Right.”
She lowered me down, then briskly ran off.
Thought Communication wasn’t enough to broadcast a message to an entire city. We needed to ring a special alarm bell to make everyone gather at the public square. I ran down the situation with the ogre mages, then turned my attention to the sky, turning my Magic Sense all the way up.
It let me detect something coming from the Dwarven Kingdom. A force of around a thousand. None ranked an A alone—or I should say, an A as a rider and mount alone— Wait, they had knights on flying horses?! It had to be a well-trained force, whoever they are.
Understood. Using Analyze and Assess, I have determined the knights’ rank to be A-minus. Their flying mounts are also appraised at A-minus. However, their minds are synchronized to the point where one could treat each one as a single creature, ranked perhaps slightly higher than A.
Right. So we’re talking five hundred mounted, flying knights—A-ranked cavalry, as the Great Sage put it. Even with all our forces pooled together, we couldn’t hack this one.
Gauging each mounted knight by itself, they seemed weaker than Gabil when he had just attained A rank. Let three of them surround that dragonewt, though, and I doubted he stood a chance. In a way, this was an even greater threat than two hundred thousand orcs at our doorstep.
Shion came back with Shuna, with Benimaru and Hakuro arriving simultaneously. Soei had somehow appeared behind me, too.
Geld was busy calling for the high orcs, currently handling construction and resource-gathering work in the forest. He was running all over, trying to get his battle equipment organized, but I doubted any of it would be in time. A force of C-plus high orcs would just get razed to the ground.
“Your orders, Sir Rimuru?” Benimaru asked. I couldn’t give him a clear answer.
“My orders? Well… We don’t know who they are or what they want. It’d be a losing battle if we fought them, and I’d like to avoid that, but…”
Understood. The advancing force’s destination is this area, beyond a doubt. They are traveling in a straight line toward here.
I didn’t need the Sage’s commentary to know that lying low and hoping it’d all blow over wouldn’t work too well.
“This is no problem! All we have to do is rout them all!” Shion optimistically shouted, blowing my pessimistic thoughts away.
I wanted to call her stupid, but I doubt she’d understand why. She and I had two different definitions of victory. If we could expend all the sacrifices we wanted to smash this team of five hundred, that would make things simple. If you asked me whether that was possible or not, then, sure it was. But if you want to avoid civilian casualties, I had to conclude that was impossible.
Based on the Sage’s calculations, the greatest chance of survival came if all of us immediately fled in another direction. That provided a survival rate, apparently, of around 90 percent. Staging a frontal counterattack would kill off half of us, and as the Sage put it, only luck would decide whether even I or the magic-born would make it through. And that assumed we fought with everything we had. Routing them, the way Shion wanted us to do, was not a word I wanted to bandy around.
Either way, we’d lose people. To me, the moment hostilities began, we would’ve already lost. Damage to the town, I didn’t mind, but I couldn’t abide the thought of personal injuries. That’s why I wanted to avoid battle, if nothing else.
“Well, what happens, happens. If this turns into a fight, our first priority is evacuating our residents. We’ll buy the time to make that happen.”
“
You got it. And indeed, this could be an easy win once we’re in the thick of it!”
“I’ll handle the magical support!”
“Heh-heh-heh… My longsword is seeking blood.”
“—I am only here to serve you, Rimuru.”
Good to see the usual gang was in on it, then. I assigned Hakuro and Kurobe to stay on point if we had to evacuate. Now that Rigurd was here, I also explained matters to him, ordering him to regroup with Geld’s team outside of town if we failed to talk things out with our foes.
“Wait a second,” I heard someone mutter in the group. Turning toward the voice, I saw Kaijin lost in thought.
“What is it, Kaijin?”
“Well, if these are flying knights, I’ve heard rumors about a top-secret force under the direct control of the dwarven king. Just rumors, but…”
“Huh? I thought the Dwarven Kingdom’s military was all about heavy infantry and high-powered magic corps. And you’re an ex-military officer—what kind of top-secret force wouldn’t you know about?”
“Yeah, well… The rumors came from a bunch of retired old generals. I mean, yeah, we were officers, but we were still young. I couldn’t really boss around people who had several centuries’ more experience than I did…,” Kaijin explained, grimacing.
So just like I expected, the long-lived, hard-drinking dwarves at the top of the military ladder still had a pretty heavy impact on the force. The rumors no doubt began their spread from them, at any number of taverns. A good wine can loosen anyone’s lips.
According to Kaijin, this top-secret personal army of the king’s, independent of the seven official armies, was known as the Pegasus Knights.
“The winged horses they fly are normally C-ranked magical beasts. Dwargon’s been breeding them for their flight skills. You won’t find too many A-minus ones in nature. I guess the rumors were true, huh…?”