That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, Vol. 7

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That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, Vol. 7 Page 33

by Fuse


  Negative. I exist only for the sake of my master.

  Pretty fast replying to that one, huh? Pfft. Thanks. Keep up the good work, partner! Just try not to keep any secrets from me.

  Thus, within the dilated time Raphael and I bickered with each other, our entire conversation ended in a single real-world instant.

  (No! That couldn’t… No!!)

  (It is impossible. Such a ridiculous feat should never happen!)

  (There could be no creature in this world who could withstand a direct blast of Disintegration…)

  And so on and so forth.

  All three of them were mightily confused, and…y’know, I could see why. Even I thought it was kind of freaky, and I allegedly cast it. The ultimate in holy magic, cast in triplicate no less, and I blocked it like a spit wad. If I were them, I probably wouldn’t want to accept it, either.

  But that’s reality for you. It’s what you get for making me—or, I guess, Raphael—your enemy.

  “All right. Now it’s our turn.”

  Benimaru, Soei, and Shion nodded.

  “Your fancy magic circle seems to have disappeared,” Benimaru said, a ball of flickering black flame in his hand. “Think you can withstand this a second time?”

  The Seven Days Clergy visibly recoiled at the sight of this. Their hand was fully played, and they had nothing left to counter with.

  Shion flashed a fearsome smile as she sized up her prey. “You can’t escape us, you pile of garbage. Prepare to die!”

  Soei was silent, watching the Clergy’s movements with an unblinking eye. Alvis and Sufia, the Lycanthropeers, were watching over the paladins, making sure none of them stepped out of line. There were unlikely to be any more real threats among them, but no harm in being sure. Not like any would-be assassin among them could do much of anything now.

  (Ngh…)

  The Seven Days trio had now been herded into a single location. But they still refused to give up.

  (Think this over carefully! We are the guardians of humankind! If you kill us, the followers of the god Luminus will not take it sitting down!)

  (Exactly! Luminus’s rage will burn all of you to ashes!!)

  (We will step back this time. Now that we know you are not evil, I am sure talks will proceed smoothly with the Western Nations. You will be good neighbors to each other…)

  With a mix of intimidation and flattery, they deigned to negotiate with us. This was really starting to piss me off. It was time, I thought, to end this—

  “…I seem to have caused quite a lot of trouble for you, Demon Lord Rimuru.”

  —but then a cold, bracing voice echoed over us as a massive gate appeared, cutting through the air. The door opened, revealing a beautiful young woman. Between her unique silver hair and her heterochromatic eyes, there was no mistaking it—she was the demon lord Valentine herself, and I probably didn’t need to ask why she came.

  (Gahh!)

  (My… My lady…?!)

  (What are you doing in a place like this…?)

  The Clergy visibly withered in her presence, cowering in fear. Then they kneeled before her.

  Well, then. I guess Valentine was actually the god Luminus this whole time. The realization struck me dumb.

  Diablo, almost shaking with glee, let out an evil laugh.

  (…All right. Permission granted. Rub ’em out.)

  With those simple words from Rimuru, he had full permission to do as he pleased. He wanted these fools eliminated as quickly as possible, yes, but before that, there was some business to take care of.

  He turned toward the press corps. “Now, everyone, are you all right?”

  The fireball was blocked by the barrier Diablo built, keeping all the journalists unscathed. This barrier also kept all the demon hunters, as well as King Edward and his knights, safe from injury. Nothing based on magicules, including aspectual and spiritual magic, could penetrate it.

  (Tch. Annoying little demon. You are capable of that much…?)

  (A fearsome foe, indeed. It is time to show off our own holy force…)

  (Prepare to launch!)

  The Clergy, expecting to wrap this whole thing up in a matter of seconds, had to be surprised. No matter how powerful this demon was, destroying his physical body would eliminate any influence of his on this world. The moment he could no longer maintain his magical form, it was back to the spiritual realm for him.

  Anticipating this, the Seven Days Clergy launched an ultimate-class magic the moment they arrived—Nuclear Flame, part of the nuclear family of aspectual magic. Three people were required to carry it out, the force of it being too much for one, and it rained unquenchable hellfire upon its target. Against Diablo, however, it was powerless.

  Overwhelmed, the Clergy quickly opted for their final weapon. Defeating someone as powerful as Diablo required holy force, and nothing else. Their minds made up, they decided to bring out their finisher—Trinity Break. It was the same move their compatriots tried against Rimuru, and while it took some time to prepare, they could be protected by a barrier during casting, keeping them safe. What’s more, the Trinity Disintegration launched at the end of this spell was the most powerful of all holy magic, capable of reducing anyone and anything to its composite cells. No matter how great the monster or magic-born, from demon lords on down, this attack could never be resisted.

  It was thus with total confidence that the Clergy uncorked this spell…just as Diablo began negotiating. Not with Seven Days, but with the press.

  “Did you see that attack?” he gently asked. “It seems clear to me that they made an attempt on your lives, didn’t they?”

  Even Saare, enemies with Diablo until a moment ago, couldn’t deny it. The journalists certainly didn’t. They all nodded their understanding. The guardians of humankind, the great heroes, the Seven Days Clergy of legend—everyone there knew of them. Diablo was telling the truth; they were sure a moment ago that they’d be breathing their last. The Clergy would bury them all, Diablo included, and then they’d pin the blame for it on the demon.

  “But there is no need for alarm. I will protect you all.”

  To the crowd, Diablo’s smile looked like the reassuring countenance of a benevolent god. They believed him. If he was powerful enough to shrug off a Battlesage like Saare that easily, beating the legendary Seven Days didn’t seem so fantastical, either.

  “What, what do you want from us…?”

  “Oh, money?”

  Some among the press worried about what Diablo would desire in return. Demons never work for free—they always demand something back, and Diablo was no different. He’d never provide a service for no reason, unless he was doing it for Rimuru.

  “Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh… I appreciate your understanding. I seek only one thing from all of you…”

  His demand, given with a smile, was this: Report his innocence to the world. The journalists, hearing this, breathed a sigh of relief. They were expecting a cruel, merciless demon, but the truth was something else entirely.

  If Saare, one of the chief officers in the Holy Empire of Lubelius, was caught up in the Clergy’s dragnet, it meant that group had to be conspiring on an impossibly high level behind the scenes. The journalists were being used, too, and once they knew that, there was no reason to turn down Diablo’s request.

  “Of course! Let us spread the word far and wide!”

  “Yes, we will write whatever you want! All about your glorious deeds!”

  “That we will. So please! Please, help us!!”

  There were nearly a hundred members of the press there, and all of them promised their loyalty. The unique skill Tempter was faithfully doing its work on them. Betrayal would not be forgiven. The pact had been forged.

  “Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh… Very well. Then I promise to save all of you…but not you.”

  The demon pointed at Edward, only now recovering from his fainting spell.

  “Wh-why?! What did I ever do—?”

  “Silence!” he spat out. “You open
ly mocked the great Sir Rimuru, a crime worth a thousand deaths. It is time for you to realize that saving you is worthless.”

  Edward racked his hazy mind for some way out, but none came. The only thing for certain was that, if things kept up, he was going to die. He looked toward his knights; they averted their eyes. Defying the will of a monster like that, or the heroes of legend, was not conducive to their health.

  “Please… Please, if you could, allow me to live…”

  All that remained was to attempt a teary-eyed round of begging. It failed to bend Diablo’s heart.

  “Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh… Feel free to continue lamenting your foolishness as you depart this realm.”

  None of the press lifted a finger to help Edward. What could they do? Edward was the cause of all this in the first place; nobody was going to step in for him now and face that demon’s wrath.

  The king, realizing this, started crying. “I’ll give you everything. My money, my position… My, my throne! I’ll abdicate and give you everything…”

  Diablo paused, apparently giving this offer some serious thought. “Come to think of it,” he said, lightening his tone, “the hero Yohm is guarding Edmaris at the moment, is he not? I believe he is the only one qualified to truly lead the land of Farmus, but what do you think of that?”

  Edward knew that. His mind, racing at speeds higher than he ever felt in his life, was sure of that.

  “I—I agree with you! He has great potential. I would gladly announce him as my successor…”

  The answer was a source of great satisfaction for Diablo. The journalists could sense it as well. A couple of them even began to laugh.

  “Ha-ha-ha… The birth of a hero king, is it?”

  “This is the news of the century…”

  Diablo nodded contentedly. Now the table was set perfectly. A few of the details had gone awry in his plan, but the results wound up more than satisfactory.

  Now all that remained was to sweep up the garbage.

  The time had come.

  (Hmph. Are you ready for this?)

  (In just a few more moments, a rain of light will cleanse this realm of evil.)

  (Enjoy what few remaining seconds you have left to—)

  The Clergy had been watching these events from afar, assured that their upcoming spell would win the day for them. What arrived instead was a single moment of despair.

  “Am I ready for what, exactly? Don’t make me laugh, you scum. You meddled with my plans and shamed me in front of Sir Rimuru—both serious crimes. You will taste the fear and despair I felt many, many times over.”

  There wasn’t a trace of a smile on Diablo as he regarded the Seven Days. His face was expressionless, the beauty to it only adding to the fear factor.

  (Wh-what…?)

  (What are you saying?)

  (Have you lost your mind? This spell could never—)

  The Clergy was cut off by a snap of the fingers—and then the world was enveloped in horror.

  “Enjoy the sensation of powerlessness in a crumbling world! …Moment of Despair!!”

  This was Diablo’s power, taking advantage of Tempting World—one skill in the Tempter repertory. Normally, it worked directly on the target’s subconscious to affect their mental state, but Diablo had improved on it. It let him materialize a virtual world for its hapless victim, then exercise absolute control over that world. Diablo could even dictate who lived and died in this virtual realm—and then, with the help of the Truth Twist skill, he could switch out that pretend world for the real one. The phantoms and monsters crafted by him would take on real form in the physical plane.

  It was as unfair a skill as it was inhumane. Breaking out of it could only be done with sheer willpower and a well-trained spiritual body—but almost nobody could defeat the spiritual life-form of Diablo in that contest, and not even the Seven Days Clergy was an exception.

  (What, what is this?!)

  (Our, our magic is disappearing?!)

  (N-no…)

  The three of them struggled in abject surprise, but there was nothing they could do. The clock ticked on their personal hell—and after a short while, their world collapsed.

  “Enjoy reflecting upon your foolishness in the deepest pit of hell…”

  It was time for the final flourish—End of the World, the final snuffing out of the Tempting World he created, taking everything inside with it. It swallowed up the Seven Days Clergy’s full despair, taking it all the way to the final second…

  …and then the promises made in this battlefield were safely carried out.

  Having the demon lord Valentine, er, Luminus show up was kind of a surprise, but now someone else was coming through the door. This was the so-called Valentine from Walpurgis, right? The stand-in for Luminus?

  The three Clergy members here paled in his presence as they kept kneeling before Luminus. They had no interest in fighting any longer, trembling like lambs waiting for their judgment. So what would Luminus do? The way she apologized for causing me trouble, I suppose she wasn’t here for a fight, either.

  But then the former stand-in opened his mouth. “Stand back,” he commanded, his voice projecting far and wide. “I am Louis, the Holy Emperor, and the presence you see here is our god—Lady Luminus!”

  The paladins promptly fell to their knees. It reminded me of a certain retired lieutenant general—not that I said that to anyone. Instead, we decided to watch what would unfold, as confused as we all were about it.

  But…a demon lord serving as a god? What kind of a joke is that? And that stand-in was the Holy Emperor? The propaganda getting thrown around was so ridiculous, I hardly knew what to make of it. Thinking about it, though, maybe this was the most effective way for her to position herself…

  Affirmative. It would allow you to create the most efficient environment for ruling over the species of humanity.

  Hmm. Yeah. But I wasn’t suggesting we copy that, all right? Don’t let me be misunderstood on that. Otherwise, I was scared of what Raphael might decide to try next.

  “…Hinata,” Luminus said as she approached her knight, still cradled in my arms. “I told you to restrain yourself, but you decided to venture here anyway…”

  She lifted a hand into the air.

  “May your heart be revived. Resurrection!”

  This was Resurrection, the miracle of god, in action. Before my eyes, the hole from Hinata’s back to the left side of her chest began to close up. This was even faster than my own recovery potion. Which…

  …Wait a sec. Why did a “demon lord” wield holy energy like this?!

  Understood. The “miracle of god” refers to the efficient utilization of spiritual particles. These particles cannot be intervened with normally, but I have discovered a way to do this. This will be analyzed later…

  I didn’t really get Raphael, but I guess the wise master had a nice new project to tackle. That guy’s so helpful. Let’s leave the job to it for now.

  “Nn-nnhg… Master…?”

  Oops. Hinata’s back awake.

  “Hey. Quit babbling,” I said. “What’s this ‘master’ talk? Who—?”

  I couldn’t help but needle Hinata a little. It was funny to me. None of her usual grimness. She looked almost innocent now. She got summoned to this world during her high school years, right, and now she’s spent the past decade or so here? That put her at around—

  —but before I could finish the thought, her eyes bored into me, just as icy as I remembered.

  “…You.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “You weren’t thinking something rude just now, were you?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “Oh. All right. So how long do you plan to cling to me?”

  Cling? She makes it sound so dirty. I was helping her this whole time, too. But now didn’t seem like the right time to complain about it, so I better just shut up and apologize. Sometimes, as you learned over time, losing was the best way to win.

  “Oh, excuse me!
Not that I minded it particularly!”

  Hinata jumped away from me. Then she looked down at her chest. There was a hole in her clothing, revealing the pale skin below.

  “…Huh?”

  Crap. She wanted to kill me with every fiber of her body now. Did I step on a landmine there?

  “Has anyone ever told you,” she asked as she glowered at me, “that you’re completely tactless?”

  “You’re the one staring daggers into me right now. Why do you have to be so stubborn? You never listen to people!”

  I didn’t mean to mouth off like that. That was a mistake. Hinata’s beauty turned into a mask of angry rage. I could hear her give me an exasperated tch. But she simply took a breath, bottling it up, and flashed me a smile—which was scarier, in a way.

  “…Look. I’m just shortsighted sometimes, that’s all. You are tactless, aren’t you? I bet you had trouble getting dates your whole life.”

  Her words pierced straight through my heart. A critical hit! Shut up, lady! Quit making me remember my forgotten past!

  “I—I did not! People thought I was considerate and reliable!”

  “Oh? Well, great,” she replied, giving me a look of pity as she chuckled. God, I hate her. Right at the end, she beat me good. I won the battle, but now I felt like such a loser. And, oh, wait, I never declared victory anyway…

  Leaving me to deal with my shock alone, Hinata used her own healing magic to take care of Renard. Her spell did a hell of a job as well. I thought Luminus might’ve helped him out, but she couldn’t have cared less. I guess she’s the type to pretend people didn’t exist if she wasn’t interested in them. Hang in there, Renard. Guess he’s got it worse than I do, in a way.

  By healing Hinata, Luminus had restored the paladins’ confidence in her. Some of them knew the Holy Emperor Louis’s name, too, and none seemed to question his presence here. Seeing Renard come back to life sent up a cheer among the troops, many shouting “Lady Hinata!” and crying their eyes out.

  She punched out one dude she caught staring at her chest, though. That’s Hinata for you. Can’t let your guard down. What’s she talking about, being shortsighted? It’s not like she didn’t have Magic Sense on all the time. But I guess she was particularly sensitive to the wandering eyes of men, huh? Better be careful. Kinda too late for me, but…

 

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