by Fuse
A few days after Milim’s sudden visit, I had the traps set up across all the floors. The only thing left to do was wait for Milim to come back with those dragons.
“Man. Beretta and Treyni, you guys did a hell of a job.”
“Oh, no,” Beretta said, taking a step back and being modest as usual. “This is all for you and Lady Ramiris.”
“Exactly,” said a beaming Treyni. “It is a joy to work for the sake of my master.”
Ramiris herself was sitting on Treyni’s shoulder, and Treyni looked ready to carry out nearly any order she gave her.
That wrapped up the bulk of the work—
“By the way, Sir Rimuru, I still have these with me…”
—but then Beretta took out a Unique-class weapon and armor set.
“Those?”
“I received them from a golem in the service of Clayman. I was unable to give them to you earlier, but I thought, perhaps, they would make good loot for a treasure chest or two…”
Oh, right. Clayman’s greatest masterpiece, or whatever it was? Viola, I think was the name. Beretta stripped all the weapons from it, and he meant to present them to me, but I turned them down. He wanted to pay me off with that stuff so they could move here, after all, and I wasn’t up for that.
“Weren’t you going to offer that stuff to Ramiris?”
“Ha-ha!” Ramiris said, butting in. “There’s no way I could use it right, and I don’t really care about it anyway. I think it’s a pretty fancy piece of weaponry, but that’s about it—not much else you can do with it. So I talked to Beretta to see if we could make better use of it!”
“Are you sure about this? Because it’d be worth a lot if you sold it.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine! All part of my job! And I’m gonna make a ton of money before long, so why quibble over the little stuff? Besides, we finally have somewhere to live!”
So the weapon and armor were mine—and thus, I decided to put them to work for me.
It was time to put the treasure chests in place and see how the labyrinth was shaping up.
From Floor 1 on down, we checked our work. That topmost floor was kind of a demo of things to come. I made it so even beginners could proceed without too much hassle; the chamber and its hallways were broad, wide, and hard to get lost in.
Still, eight hundred feet to a side was big. I worried that people would spend all afternoon mapping out every nook and cranny, only to be rewarded with nothing. That might cause people to start dissing the maze, but with all the weak monsters prowling around, I figured there’d be enough excitement for everyone—the magic crystals and other useful stuff they dropped would make it worth novice adventurers’ time.
I intended to buy this loot from those adventurers. There wasn’t a Free Guild post in Tempest, so the nearest one would be Blumund’s. Going all the way there could be a tall order for some people, so I thought we could function as a pseudo-Guild, accepting their loot for discount prices and pocketing the difference to cover expenses. Or could I talk with Yuuki about building an official Guild post here? Maybe, but until that came up, we’d kind of function as them with this labyrinth.
This was the basic scheme of things up to Floor 5; the mazes gradually got trickier, but otherwise, no difference. Floor 6, though, is where things got tough. The traps would make their debut here, although nothing truly vicious up to Floor 9, so nobody would die from them (probably). A seasoned adventurer would cruise past them. If I made things too hard too fast, it’d discourage repeat traffic, and that was out of the question. I wanted to be kind with the first nine floors’ design.
That all changed with Floor 10. Here, I placed a single monster who was, shall we say, kind of strong. In other words, this was a boss room. Defeat it, and a door would open to the floors below.
“What kind of monster did you go with, Rimuru?” asked Ramiris.
“I’ll decide on that once I see how these guys are spawning, but… We haven’t seen any so far, have we?”
No, we had yet to encounter a single monster, all the way down to Floor 10. Veldora released his aura a week and a half ago, but it still hadn’t resulted in any baddies.
Understood. Even with his aura hidden, monsters can still detect the presence of the subject Veldora. Few would want to approach him.
Oh. I see.
“I guess monsters born from the magicules you released can pick up on his presence. They’re too scared to go near him.”
“What?! So that’s why!” said Veldora, convinced. “No wonder I never saw many in my presence inside the cave I was sealed in.”
I think it’s more like the weaker monsters literally couldn’t take the heat from him. But regardless:
“Well, I’ll figure something out. One way or another, I want just a kinda strong monster in here, ranked B or thereabouts.”
“Hmm… All right,” said Ramiris. “I don’t want any unintelligent beings among my lackeys, but if you find the right monster, bring it in here and put this collar on it!”
I accepted the collar, which apparently let the wearer be resurrected even if they hadn’t forged a formal pact with Ramiris. That helped a lot. It meant I didn’t have to find a replacement every time someone killed the guy.
“Wow, convenient. That’ll save us a lot of trouble.”
“Right? Remember, in this labyrinth, what I say goes!”
It probably did, too. Her skill let her change the effects of pretty much any item in here. I realized once again how much of a pity it was that I couldn’t learn it for myself.
That took care of the boss issue. The boss room formed the entirety of Floor 10, making it perfectly safe after the battle was over. Beyond the room lay a save point and a simple stairway down. And let’s not forget about the treasure chest! The one in the boss room had no trap installed, but I did carefully adjust the rates at which you’d find certain weapons or armor inside. In subsequent floors, however, there’d be both hidden chambers and chest traps.
Mimics would debut in Floor 20 and below—pretty diabolical, but that’s the thrill of a labyrinth like this. Being able to experience something like this in real life was something I thought I deserved praise for.
But it wasn’t all threatening stuff. With abundant magicules all over the labyrinth, the swords and lances found inside could start to get a bit magical themselves. Getting your hands on stuff like that was worth risking your neck a little, I thought. With a Resurrection Bracelet, nobody was going to die, so I figured revving up the difficulty would make it more fun and exciting. I couldn’t wait to see how the adventurers would react to all this.
Finally, we wrapped up our inspection of the first ten floors. “Well, now what? Should we set up someplace on this floor where you can sell the stuff you found or put it in storage for safekeeping?”
“Oh? Do we really need that? Because then we wouldn’t be able to sell any return whistles.”
Ah. Right. Ramiris actually had a great point. She was always sharp with issues related to money, I guess.
“True. Not much point putting ones up in floors with save points. How about safe zones starting in the middle dungeons, say one every five levels?”
“Oooh, that could work!”
We could offer storage for items found, sell healing potions at marked-up prices, and offer some simple fare to eat. The labyrinth could have doors at regular levels that connected to a single zone, so we wouldn’t need to construct separate zones all across the maze. It wouldn’t be that much work to implement. Would more people opt to go outside when they needed a break, though? It’d depend, I suppose. Return whistles were meant as insurance, after all, so maybe we could price them on the higher side. I decided to reconsider that once this labyrinth made its debut.
As we chatted about this or that labyrinth-related issue, we continued to inspect each floor—and as we checked out all the little details, the labyrinth slowly approached completion.
Finally, we were done with the hundredth floor, generally satisfied with ourselves
. To be frank, the complete labyrinth ventured far beyond mere viciousness.
…Based on the skills of the average adventurer, low-level monsters and a labyrinth would provide enough of a difficulty level. Adding crafty traps and a legion of upper-level monsters, the term vicious seems rather tepid a description.
Sorry? I didn’t hear that. Raphael sounded a bit exasperated with me, but I’m sure, of course, that I was just imagining it.
I’d learn not much later that I definitely wasn’t imagining it. Between working out monster placement and boss setups, I suddenly realized that the labyrinth was now full of monsters. Tons of them.
“Wh-what in the…?!”
Well, too late now. This difficulty-balancing work wound up biting me in the ass, which I suppose I deserved. But no worries. It’s important to leave little mistakes like this behind you.
There was still plenty left to do, but I decided to leave the rest to Veldora and Ramiris, who were now even further motivated. Milim was kind enough to fetch those dragons she offered to bring in, and we released them on the appropriate floors, adjusting the atmospheric magicule count as needed. The dragons helped cull the excessive numbers of monsters being generated, too. We still only had our bosses worked out down to Floor 30, but that would do for now.
The coliseum up top was still under construction, but the framework was getting completed at speeds I couldn’t believe. It should be done in time for the Founder’s Festival, once the snow thawed. The labyrinth below, meanwhile, was turning into a more splendid attraction than I had guessed. You needed to buy a Resurrection Bracelet to enter, but once you got one, I was sure you’d be addicted. Hopefully it would remain one of our city’s main draws as long as I hoped.
There were still a lot of ideas left to implement, but for now, this was fine. I flashed an evil grin at the others, sharing a nod with them. We had our labyrinth all prepped and ready.
Before long, our town started to see some new faces. The snow was melting away, and once it did, we began to see visitors from all over traveling to the Forest of Jura.
The Founder’s Festival was near.
CHAPTER 4
THE AUDIENCES
With everything running on schedule (to some extent), I returned to town. Veldora and Ramiris stayed in the labyrinth, and Milim was helping them out now that her dragon-wrangling work was done. The thought struck me that Milim might have to, like, go back and run her domain sometime, but I let her be. She was the one who’d get chewed out over it, not me.
Looking at the traps I laid, the three of them apparently had some complaints about the areas they were allowed to work out their final touches in. Until Floor 30, I really didn’t want a lot of traps. It’d be pointless to sprinkle a bunch of dinky ones around, and if they got too sadistic too fast, adventurers would just give up. If they gave up too early, of course, they’d stop coming.
That’s why I personally laid out the traps for everywhere between Floors 1 and 50. Ramiris and Veldora were allowed to handle only the deeper levels. I suppose, though, that witnessing my cruelest traps mainly inspired them to come up with even more insidious ones.
“Y’know, Rimuru, I think I had the wrong idea,” said Ramiris. “Traps aren’t meant to be installed one at a time, are they?”
“No fair! Let me invent some!!” whined Milim.
“Yes, perhaps I was so focused on my overall might that I overlooked how best to install these traps,” said Veldora. “Let’s approach this a little more seriously, then.”
I mostly let them be. I didn’t have the time to deal with all this selfishness. Ramiris was allowed to do whatever she wanted with Floors 51 to 60; Veldora, Floors 61 to 70; and Milim, the trickiest part of the labyrinth—the dragon chambers on Floors 96 to 99. The floors might turn out ridiculous, I knew, but I doubted any adventurer would make it past Floor 50 for a while to come, so I didn’t see the problem.
Floor 95, by the way, was where we decided to place the beastman refugee camp. I’d been considering putting some (very expensive) lodging down there for rest purposes as well—another idea I filed away for the future, after I saw how things went. As for the remainder—Floors 71 to 94—I left those in their default, untouched state for future purposes. They were fully infused with magicules, so you might see monsters show up down there, but otherwise, nothing of note. Everything else, the three had free rein over.
A few days passed. While I was scanning the buzzing city streets, I spotted Mjöllmile and his entourage heading this way. That was quicker than I had expected. He must’ve packed up and come over in a hurry.
“Sir Rimuru! I do apologize we didn’t make it here sooner. I’m ready to begin at once!”
“Ah, Mjöllmile, thanks so much for coming! Let me guide you over to your home here.”
I took him over to a residence we had only just recently built. I had asked Rigurd to get it done for him in advance, advising him to make sure it was move-in ready. I loved that guy. So well put together. Ask him to do something, and he’ll never let you down. I also wanted Rigurd and Mjöllmile to say hello to each other, although Mjöllmile already knew Rigurd from their healing potion business. Leaving the guide goblins and Mjöllmile’s servants to the house, I went with him over to Rigurd’s office.
“Excuse me, Rigurd.”
“Oh, Sir Rimuru! And Sir Mjöllmile as well. What brings you here today?”
He must have been busy, but Rigurd warmly greeted us nonetheless.
“Ah, I’m sorry it’s been so long, Sir Rigurd! Your boss— Er, Sir Rimuru here has always been kind to me in our business ventures, but today—”
Before I could explain matters, Mjöllmile skillfully took over the role. We moved over to the parlor, quickly getting down to business—the state of arena construction, the lodging on the southwest side, the stalls we’d build around the arena site, and more. We also talked about the freshly built Dungeon and using it to attract adventurers to town.
“…So the Dungeon is all ready to go. It’s not complete yet, but I think we can run it right now without any problem. The coliseum’s going to need some more time as well, but the main stage is complete. The VIP seating’s done, too, all fancy and stuff, so I figure we can have the regular audience sit on sheets in the grandstand for now. Or make it standing room only if need be.”
We were short on time, so I had been procrastinating on that issue. The arena structure was still bare-bones, but I figured that could wait until Mildo returned. Even incomplete, I think it had style, and I was also making sure it was safe to use.
Rigurd and Mjöllmile listened to my explanation with rapt attention, and we quickly lost ourselves in discussion. Rigurd accepted the job of educating our citizens, ensuring they were fully able and ready to handle the people who’d be coming in soon; meanwhile, Mjöllmile had his own ideas for the arena and dungeon we had planned out, as evidenced by his commendably confident smile. We discussed it all, pointing out flaws and trying to correct them, figuring out what we needed and what had to be on-site.
“It’s a tremendous relief to see Sir Mjöllmile with us on this,” a smiling Rigurd said.
“Yeah, isn’t it? He’s a pretty useful guy, you know. If this Founder’s Festival ends well, I’m thinking about making him into our nation’s chief financial manager.”
This was important to me. I wanted him in charge of our country’s finances, and I also wanted him running our new commerce and publicity departments, doing all he could for Tempest. Rigurd nodded at this, promising to personally select the staff who’d work under him. We had been asking the inns along the highway and such to keep track of their own accounts, but this was still an uphill process. Literacy rates had gone up thanks to Vester, but not everyone could read, write, and do sums yet. If we wanted to keep this nation going, we’d really need people like Mjöllmile. Rigurd, to his credit, seemed to understand that and was accepting to Mjöllmile joining my administration—and not just because I wanted him there. Maybe he knew that numbers were a w
eakness of ours. He seemed to welcome him, even, outside of our current festival plans.
“…I see. That sounds like a splendid idea!”
“No, no, I still have much to learn. But I promise you that I will tackle our issues with every bit of strength I have!”
He was sounding modest, but I knew he had his heart set on this post from the outset. He had ambition, and as long as the Founder’s Festival worked out well, I’d have no qualms about appointing him to the roles I had laid out.
“However,” I said, “you’ll still need to perform well for us. The others won’t accept you otherwise.”
“Indeed,” replied Rigurd, “although I am sure one word from you would be enough to convince them all…”
“I’d like to avoid that. Honestly, if anything, I feel like I’m too involved in this stuff right now.”
“Maybe so. And the very fact that noncitizens of Tempest can take top administrative roles will serve as fine advertising. To achieve that, however, Sir Mjöllmile will need to put up results that everyone can appreciate.”
“You said it. Sorry to put all this pressure on you, but can I count on you for that, Mollie?”
That would be the tricky part. If this was just about strength, or something similarly easy to grasp, the monsters would easily be convinced. Diablo was a prime example; when I appointed him my second secretary, nobody complained about that at all. (Okay, Shion did, but that’s because she can’t take a hint.) Diablo’s strength was undoubtedly second only to mine; you’d have to be silly to pick a fight with someone like that.
In other words, when it came to military roles or the like, pretty much anyone could become an officer if I recognized their talents. If they’re strong enough for the post, we’re all good.
That wouldn’t work with the more bureaucrat-type positions. I imagine most governments have examinations and stuff for those posts, but sadly, we hadn’t reached that point yet.
I’d gladly welcome experienced people like Vester, but again, they needed to put up achievements. Even Vester was still technically just a consultant—a visitor, if you will. I wanted to give him a promotion to an administrative job, but first I wanted Mjöllmile to prove himself at his. If possible, I’d like them both to play a simultaneous role in our new system of government, bringing them on as ministers.