by Fuse
“Yes sir! Your loyal servant Gob’emon shall live up to your expectations!”
There was fire in his eyes. He always was a goblin of ambition—giving him a goal to strive for should make the growth process go faster. I was sure he’d live up to every bit of my expectations.
“All right, Mollie, you mind taking care of Gob’emon for me?”
“Ha-ha-ha! I don’t mind one bit. I was just about to ask you the very same favor! Bydd, we’ve got Sir Rimuru’s permission. I hope you’re ready for some training from Gob’emon!”
Looks like he was already welcome on the team. Gob’emon was now a sort of houseguest of Mjöllmile’s, free to do whatever he wanted.
Once I left the mansion, I looked at the night sky. The assorted constellations up there were twinkling bright, although none looked like what I saw on Earth.
I wondered about that attacker, though. Was it really Cazac behind that? I doubted a nobleman on the level of a viscount had the resources to stage an assassination attempt with multiple monsters. And B rankers were one thing, but B-plus? It’d be impossible to tame one of those guys unless you were some kind of tycoon from a wealthy nation…
…Wait a second. If you wanted to tame a B-plus monster, would money be enough to achieve that?
Understood. Thegis, a summoner rated A-minus, once summoned a B-plus Lesser Demon. It is not out of the question for someone to tame a basilisk.
Ahhh, summon magic could do the trick, huh? That’d sure be quicker than carting the monster around on a wagon. But while Shuna’s barrier kept external magic from entering town, the highways were wholly unprotected.
“Better beef up our security,” I whispered to myself as I set off.
Mjöllmile had been gracefully accepted by the residents of Tempest. I introduced him to my administration, and Rigurd relayed word of him to the others, but really, it all went surprisingly smoothly. Looking at the way he worked for me after that, I could see why nobody was complaining. In no time at all, he had a firm grasp of the people and resources he had at hand, delegating duties to both man and monster. Between them and the servants he had brought along, he had a full organization set up in no time whatsoever. Capable people are just different like that.
As he managed this new company of his, Mjöllmile used his connections to send out invitations to VIPs worldwide. Powerful nobility from the inner countries, the wealthier merchants from each key city, the movers and shakers over in the Englesian capital, that kind of thing. Once the snow melted, the Founder’s Festival was going to be even larger in scale than I had first envisioned.
Of course, his organizational skills were also pointed in other directions: the performances for our new theater; the format and rules for our arena battles; the admission fee to the Dungeon, along with prices for the items we sold there; inventory and sales approaches for the stalls around the arena site. I was shocked this was a first for him; he seemed completely in his element as he arranged all this. I introduced him to Veldora, too, and he agreed to work out the guy’s hibachi-grill concept with him.
I definitely made the right choice. Out of all my crazy ideas, hiring him was probably the smartest one. Without his talents, there was a pretty high chance the whole thing would’ve crashed and burned. No way I’d ever be this nimble with things. I was lucky to run into this guy, and as I watched him do his magic, I couldn’t help but feel exhilarated.
Time sure flies sometimes, doesn’t it? The whole town was in a festive mood now, the streets alive with energy and enthusiasm.
Arena construction was proceeding well. Gobkyuu was proving an excellent foreman, and everything was still on schedule. Mildo, youngest of the three dwarven brothers, was also back from his break and adding his own touches to my blueprints. Now there was an aesthetic, even artistic value, to the structure. He was a real artist, indeed, and I sure wasn’t, so this was a huge help. I was sure it’d be more than enough to wow those jaded nobles. Plus, Mildo’s touches even looked like they’d be done in time for the first battle tournament.
Mjöllmile’s staff also had their stalls open, selling to the workers in the area for practice. This was going well, too, generating business at a pretty decent clip. Neither of us anticipated any problems, which was a relief. The Dungeon, meanwhile, was in Ramiris’s and Veldora’s hands—I wanted to be more involved, but I was rapidly running short of free time.
Now the various leaders of the Forest of Jura’s monster races were assembling in town to celebrate (or maybe probe into) my new title. We had a series of audiences with each contingent scheduled across several days.
They wanted to declare their fealty to the demon lord in hopes of obtaining protection in return—but if they saw that the demon lord didn’t have that kind of power, they’d no doubt bare their fangs at once and start rebelling. Under a powerless demon lord, there’d be no prosperity, only a straight, downhill road to oblivion, and they knew it. Taking action to avoid such a fate was a matter of course.
Until fairly recently, the whole of Jura had been protected under Veldora’s absolute, irresistible power. That made the Forest an impregnable fortress, but now it was under the rule of a new demon lord—a freshly ordained one, whose priorities and policies were still a question mark. That’d unnerve any of the monster leaders, I was sure.
…So. Here I was, in the audience chamber we set up, being enshrined on my little platform, in full dress. As a slime. It made me feel like some kind of table decoration, a conversation piece laid out on a divine altar.
I suggested just putting one of my Replications up there, but my team of advisers just smiled and said no. They had a knack for working together against me at times like this. My only guess was that they were using Thought Communication to talk to each other behind my back.
So I let them do what they wanted with me, and they dolled me up so much that I couldn’t even move. They even prepared special slime clothes for this day. It was exhausting. Several outfits, changed daily for me—or maybe even morning, afternoon, and evening; I stopped paying attention. I wished they’d knock it off, but they kept talking about how I had to strike a dignified pose—which indicated to me that my slime form didn’t look dignified at all.
Ah well.
Everyone participating in this “presentation ceremony” was dressed like they were members of a military honor guard. Every button was polished, not a wrinkle in sight. The pressure was intense, and in the midst of this oppressive atmosphere, Rigurd and Rigur—just as smartly dressed—were dealing with the envoys. I looked down at them, as instructed to do, without saying a word. Me speaking would ruin the effect anyway, so I was glad I didn’t have to.
Benimaru and Shuna stood guard over me on both sides. Behind me was Shion, Soei, and Gabil, in a neat little line. Ranga, as always, was holed up inside my shadow.
Over to the right was Gobwa and another hundred-odd members of Team Kurenai; the other two hundred were patrolling the city streets. They were all more powerful than our normal security team, so I took this measure so they could quickly handle any weirdos who showed up during the event. Shion’s Team Reborn in plainclothes, meanwhile, was also keeping an eye on the town, ready to address any flare-ups before they got out of control.
“Sir Rimuru, where are you looking?”
Shuna had paused her serving, looking at me with a smile. It was strange. Her voice sounded so gentle, but something about it seemed as frozen as ice.
“No, no, nowhere! But, Hinata… If that misunderstanding’s all cleared up, then we’re all good, I promise! If you could just drop your prejudices against monsters, then all the better!”
Hinata appeared lost for a moment at my forced change of subject, but then wordlessly nodded.
I knew I was asking a lot, really. A monster, in essence, was kind of like a violent offender with a gun in his hand. If you believe one without question and innocent people get killed later, you have to recognize that you set yourself up for failure. Maybe we could speak to each other, an
d maybe that didn’t mean we could really understand…but this town could make it work. People were believing me and trying to play nice with humans—even after Shion and Team Reborn had been killed by human hands.
“I mean, I know you won’t trust me that easily or anything. You never know what the other side’s really thinking, and I guess some monsters can be a lot slyer and more conniving than others. If you’re a defender of humanity, you can’t afford to be tricked all the time.”
“…True. Conversation is the first step to a common understanding, but it can lead to some dangerous transactions. You run the risk of making commitments that bind you, heart and soul.”
“Yeah, I bet. But if you can at least not declare that all monsters are evil, we’re totally fine with that. And if you got a monster you’re iffy about, we’ll take ’em in. If human society can’t accept ’em, they’ll be fine here.”
That was about the best compromise I could give. Any monsters deemed suspect could easily be taken into Tempest. Here in town, at least, we could be sure they wouldn’t cause any trouble…assuming we could reason with the guy anyway.
“All right. I don’t think our thoughts are going to change if I snap my fingers, but I will prohibit my ranks from condemning all monsters as evil. Is that all right with you, Lady Luminus?”
“I care not for such trivial matters. But if it leads citizens to doubt their faith in me, I will not stand for that.”
“Very well. I will observe that as our first priority.”
Luminus seemed convinced. Given how the Holy Empire of Lubelius was wholly built around the people’s faith in the god Luminus, any cracks in that faith could affect the entire foundation of that belief. That religion holds great sway over the Western Nations. I could understand Hinata’s caution.
If anything, though, I feel like Luminus underestimated the influence she had on people. She goes on about how she “will not stand” for things, but then she acts like she’s above it all and none of it matters. Maybe being bandied around as a supreme being wasn’t Luminus’s intention at all. I could just have been overthinking it, but it seemed like Louis was the de facto head of government, and Hinata did pretty much all her errands for her. Even all this drama was perpetrated by the Seven Days.
But… Really, though? An old demon lord who’s ruled in the shadows for so long was really just a lazy girl palming off responsibility on others? No way, no how. She reminded me of the style I was aiming for with Tempest—“Let the king reign, not govern”—so I couldn’t help thinking about it.
Now Hinata’s eyes were turned toward my officials. “I must thank all of you as well. I promise I will not treat you as hostile enemies simply for being monsters.”
She bowed her head deeply, and the other paladins hurriedly followed her lead, shouting “We’re sorry!” together.
“Please, think nothing of it,” Rigurd said. “Were it not for Sir Rimuru’s orders, we would have considered humans our foes as well.”
In other words, my orders had changed their minds. For a goblin who’s just trying his best to stay alive, I’m sure anyone who doesn’t look like you is an enemy.
“I am just glad you aren’t against us,” said Benimaru with a bold grin. “I saw your battle against Sir Rimuru, and I doubt even I could have defeated you.”
The fact that his attention was devoted to combat was certainly very Benimaru-like. Soei nodded his solemn agreement next to him.
The world of monsters has always had a broad “survival of the fittest” streak to it; if you’re deemed the enemy and killed for it, it’s your own fault for being weaker. That’s how Soei’s mind worked, and he had no particular grudge against the paladins.
Shion, meanwhile, was dubious. Hinata’s apology must have confused her.
“Here, Shion, you forgive her, too. I understand your pain and anger, but it’s not like every human being on earth is evil. You have some bad guys and some good guys. That’s all there is to it. And monsters are the same way; you have to get a closer look if you want to really know anything. Plus, humans are capable of overcoming their mistakes. And not just them, either, right? Us too. What’s important is what’s in your soul, isn’t it?”
Instead of dividing all living things into humans and monsters, it was more important to see how they lived, what existed in their souls. I wanted Shion to understand that, but my pleas seemed to just unnerve her even more. Humans, I suppose, really were evil to her. I just didn’t want her to think they were all that way. She was following my orders for now, but there’s no telling when her frustrations would explode. I couldn’t have that. Instead of just following my orders, I wanted her to move and act on her own free will.
But perhaps I was too worried. In a single moment, Shion threw away all her hesitation. She never was one for thinking about matters too deeply.
“All right!” she blurted out. “Just like you, Sir Rimuru, I will judge good and bad people based on their souls!”
She beamed, as if unshouldering some heavy burden. Maybe she had just climbed over some kind of tall barrier in her mind. It’s not like I could see anyone’s souls, exactly, but if that won over Shion, then great.
Team Reborn didn’t seem to have any issues, either. There was no apparent bad blood with the paladins, and like Shion, I think they had it in them to judge people on their own merits. Nice of them. I sure was proud.
So then it was settled. I accepted the apology and let the mistakes fall into the past. The borderline between forgivable and unforgivable was always tricky to discern, but we had made up well enough this time. If you can speak the same language as the other side, it’s always possible for both of you to accept each other’s feelings.
But enough of this gloomy stuff. All this food we prepared wouldn’t be nearly as good cold—and considering Veldora’s lack of a role so far, keeping him waiting any longer would just piss him off and make my life a hassle.
He wasn’t supposed to require food at all, I didn’t think, but from the moment of his resurrection, he had been demanding it for some reason. His love for cakes and such was already common knowledge, but he whined at me a lot about other types of cuisine as well. I knew he was revved up about the feast we had for tonight. Let’s get him involved.
But before that, a toast. I made one up on the spot to get things started.
“Well, here’s to the battles we’ve all fought—and all the ones to come. Cheers!”
A nice, cold mug, straight from the hot bath. No better moment in your life. And I was prepared, of course—we had all the treasured liquor my nation had to offer, and there would be no holding back. No mistake about it.
Wine was the staple drink in Englesia, I had learned. Beer existed, but it just wasn’t very good. It lacked carbonation and the aroma from the bubbles, and being served at room temperature did it no favors, either. My nation had conquered all those problems—don’t let anyone tell you I didn’t have a passion for food. After all this research, day and night, our selection of offerings was now far more robust than it was when I first visited the Dwarven Kingdom. Sheesh—it’s almost like I say something, and they immediately begin development on it. Was this because I was a demon lord now? Actually, I guess it was kind of always this way…
…Well, regardless, my beloved monsters were doing their very best for me, and as a result, my diet was now no different from when I lived in Japan. The food in Tempest is seriously good, trust me. I figured the paladins would be blown away, and I was right.
We kicked things off by having a group of women, all well versed in holding banquets like this, pour drinks for everyone. The first mouthful was a surprise to them, I could tell, but the moment they tucked into their food, they paused and looked at the others around them to gauge their responses. The taste must have astonished them. I grinned to myself, relieved.
Tempura was the main dish, but we also offered seafood—some freshly prepared sashimi. We had found something close to soybeans, so we even had some ersatz soy sauce
to go with it—another fruit of Shuna’s labor. It wasn’t a perfect match flavor-wise, but you wouldn’t notice unless you knew the real thing. To someone trying it for the first time, this was what it was supposed to be. Soy sauce came in all kinds of varieties anyway, so maybe there was something like this produced by some local outfit in Japan, for all I knew. Either way, I was more than satisfied.
Preparing sashimi had become a specialty of Hakuro’s. He wasn’t with us tonight, but a number of chefs had been training under him. That whole process—developing the next generation of kitchen staff—was going pretty well, too. You could see them improve as time passed, their offerings growing more diverse and mouthwatering by the day.
It was an entirely Japanese-style meal, but nearly everyone in the hall seemed to enjoy it. Hinata, in particular, looked like she was having a life-changing moment, putting her inexperienced paladins to shame as she expertly used her chopsticks to eat. Then she turned to me, likely noticing my attention on her.
“Don’t you think this is going too far?”
“Too far how?!”
I wasn’t expecting this complaint. It kind of annoyed me, so I fired back. This triggered a rant that must have been building for a long time.
“We stopped at a tavern on the way here that had ramen and gyoza dumplings. You offer free fresh water on the highway. This is supposed to be a remote forest, and yet you’ve built these enormous bathhouses. And now this! How did you even find fresh sashimi in the middle of a huge forest? And going out of your way to find these wild plants for tempura… Don’t you find that crazy at all?!”
I had definitely broken her cool facade. Man. Wasn’t expecting that.
“Well, um, I wanted to eat it, so—”
“What?”
“I… I mean, I wanted to eat it, so I tried remaking it for myself. And the sashimi… You know, we’re on good terms with the Beast Kingdom of Eurazania, and they’ve got a coastline, so I had some fish brought over. We don’t really have the logistics for refrigerated transport yet, though, so that kind of thing’s still skill-dependent. But what’s the harm in splurging a little bit?”