by Fuse
“Aww, but…I’ve been holding it in for so long… It’s wearing me out…”
“Deal with it,” I snapped back.
“…But why doesn’t holding yours in bother you at all, Rimuru?”
Huh? Well, why d’you think?
“Me? I just shove it all in my Stomach.”
Ever since Rigurd suggested it, I had been bottling up my mystical force and pushing it into my Stomach. By this point, it was an instant transfer, preventing any of it from leaking out at all. Ascending to demon lord status boosted my magicule stores a fair bit, but it also upgraded Predator to Belzebuth, Lord of Gluttony, which vastly expanded my Stomach storage. Thanks to that, I had no desire to unleash my mystical force at all.
“You must remember,” Diablo advised me, “that perfectly blocking one’s mystic force is intensely difficult. Even Sir Benimaru and his family are allowing a tiny amount to leak out.”
“Yes,” Veldora said, nodding meekly. “You are an observant demon, Diablo. Come on! Tell Rimuru more about how hard this is for me!”
Diablo then explained how the demon races are particularly gifted in the handling of magic and mystical forces. That gave them perfect control over such powers, but even from that perspective, Diablo was giving Veldora an A for effort. With all the energy stored inside him, Diablo reasoned, keeping it under control was a Herculean act.
“Is that true, Veldora?”
“Yes! Yes, it is! I’ve been holding it in ever since you taught me how to, and I want to go blow it up somewhere!”
This, uh, might be kind of a big deal. He wasn’t set to pop right this instant, but if we didn’t take action, we might have a disaster on our hands. If he busted all of that out without warning, we’d have acres and acres of wasteland—and with all these freaky powerful monsters and creatures dying en masse as a result, that could lead to the creation of another Charybdis. Talk about your Catastrophes. Whether he meant it or not, Veldora was seen as a mortal danger to the world for pretty solid reasons.
“All right. I’ll think about that, so hold it in for a while longer, okay?”
“Very well. I can manage that well enough, still. But try to be quick about it!”
Good. Still, does it always have to be like this? I solve that magicule-density problem, and an even bigger one immediately replaces it? I let out a soft sigh. You just never know what life’s gonna throw at you.
Soei had finished his briefing, and before long, so had my other main leaders. But just before I was ready to adjourn:
“Could I have the floor a moment, Sir Rimuru?” Geld raised his hand, looking concerned.
“What’s up, Geld? If you’ve got something to say, go right ahead.”
He didn’t seem that troubled last night. It probably had to do with the magic-born prisoners, the source of all his recent stress. I wanted to help him if I could, but…
“I was hoping,” he began, “to tell my fellow orcs about your ascension to demon lord. Would you mind if I traveled to the villages of my countrymen, practicing my Spatial Motion as I did? Things appear to be calm across the land now, so I may perhaps find other comrades interested in serving you.”
Come to think of it, he’s been so hard at work here in town that I don’t think he’s had the time to visit the high orc villages. I had been hearing about improvements he made to our food situation, but beyond that, I honestly hadn’t been giving him much attention. He deserved this, I thought. But:
“Geld, if you find anyone willing to join us, I’d like you to send them to this town first.”
“…Why is that, sir?”
“Well, I appreciate your interest in adding to your own forces, but I think it’s important they complete their education here beforehand.”
That was my backstory. High orcs like Geld could use Thought Communication to instantly get up to speed on work duties. That was a massive advantage to them and one of the reasons Geld was such a major contributor to our cause.
“But we could begin work at once… Between building these highways, constructing Lady Milim’s castle, and everything else, you need labor that can move as quickly and fluidly as your own arms and legs…”
Which, by Geld’s logic, meant the more high orcs around, the better.
“No. We have all those prisoners to work with, don’t we? So you go lead them and build them up for me.”
“But…”
“Geld, I know what you’re thinking. Your suggestion would be the most efficient way, I won’t deny that. But I want you to aim higher.”
“Higher?”
“Yes. There’s no doubting that Thought Communication is an incredibly useful thing. It cuts down on mistakes, and there’s no reason to deliberately shut it off. But if we give preferential treatment only to races who can use that, what happens to the prisoners? Are we just gonna have them mopping floors and doing other menial tasks?”
“We…”
The suggestion seemed to help Geld reach the same conclusion I had. Going forward, we clearly needed more workers. That’s why we had to train those prisoners now, while things weren’t too rushed. That’s the iron rule of business—work when you have to; train when you don’t.
Plus, if I let Geld practice favoritism with his own species, that could lead to all kinds of discrimination I really didn’t need around here. I was aiming for a paradise enjoyed by a diverse number of races, so there was no way I could allow that stuff. We were at a vital turning point in a number of ways.
“Also, Geld, you’re definitely a talented commander. I think if I put you in charge of this diverse group of magic-born, that’ll polish your skills even further.”
“I…?!”
“Our construction schedule is full, certainly, but there’s no need to panic. Just use the experience you’ve built and lead them with your own words. And…”
I took out a sheet of paper and handed it to Geld.
“This is…!”
“I want to leave this construction job to you. That’s just the foundational blueprint, but I firmly believe you’re up to the task. Are you up for it?”
“Sir Rimuru…”
This blueprint was for a gigantic structure, one I had been crafting here and there in my spare time. I showed it to Milim and the rest, too—Frey was impressed with how high it went, while Carillon rumbled his approval of the sheer majesty of the thing. Milim, meanwhile, simply loved it. This meant that all the guests who’d stay here would have no problem with it…although, this was an investment in the future, provided de facto free of charge to them, so I didn’t want to hear any complaints anyway.
The building was inspired by what I saw in Englesia and my drive not to lose out to them. I was picturing a skyscraper at first but changed my plans after I thought something more original and suitable for this world was in order. That was what I was leaving in Geld’s able arms.
Not that we’d be hands-off, of course—Geld needed some follow-up from me, lest the weight of the job crush him. My eyes turned to Kaijin; he smiled back. Smart of him to pick up on a slime’s gaze. But maybe I should’ve held this meeting in human form; not everyone can notice that so easily in my regular shape.
“Leave it to us, pal. I’ll give Geld all the backup he needs, and I’ll take Mildo along, too, so you can have him handle your little city planning project, huh?”
“What about your current work?”
“Ah, that’ll be no problem. Our research has settled down a bit, and we’re educatin’ the next generation. I think I’m safe leaving town for a while.”
Good. My small concerns were being whisked away by bigger issues—ones I was far more excited to tackle. No way Geld would mess this up.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. Let me see you handle this and grow even stronger than before. I’ll be happy to talk things over if you have any problems, though, so don’t get too worked up about it, okay?”
“B-but…!” Geld looked frozen, his back nailed straight up. “With a job as large as this
one, what if I fail at it…?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine! Even if you do, that’s still gonna be vital experience for you. Nobody’s gonna die doing this, and it’s not like it’ll cost any more than a typical city if it goes haywire on us, right? We can always earn it back.”
He was serious-minded, he always put in a full effort, and he always took responsibility for his actions. That was why I had to say that. It’d have the opposite effect on someone lazier and less motivated than him, but it was just the advice Geld needed right now.
“Yeah! He’s right! I mean, look at me! Last time—”
“Last time you did what, Gobta? Mind coming to my office later to tell me in detail?”
“Gehh! Was this whole thing a trap for me?!”
Ugh. Gobta always wants to show off like that. At least he helped Geld loosen up a little.
“Heh… Heh-heh-heh-heh. Thank you, Sir Rimuru. I suppose I was so afraid of failure that I let the little details overwhelm me. Please, allow me to take this on and live up to your expectations!”
“Good to hear. You’ve got the job!”
It was good to hear. Geld gave me a refreshed smile, his mind clear of concern.
“Why does he get all the attention?” a clearly jealous Shion asked.
“It’s the right person for the right place,” I replied. “You have your own work, don’t you?”
“Ah yes. Cooking!”
No, you idiot!
“Mmmm… Well, we all have a few things on our plates, but in your case, I wouldn’t say cooking is one of them.”
I tried to be as indirect as possible. If she had one single job, I suppose it’d be protecting me and this town. I mean, she had her own good points, too. We’re all good and bad at different things. No need to freak out about it.
“But look, Shion,” Benimaru said, getting ready to end the conversation, “you have an almost unfair amount of strength, enough to even beat me depending on the circumstances. So when I’m gone, please keep Sir Rimuru safe and sound, all right?”
Our reporting was just about done. I could have wrapped things up there, but while we had the chance, I figured we’d listen to an update from Diablo about his own work.
“Very well,” he said with a respectful bow as he began.
His update on worldwide trends and how they influenced us was the same as Rigurd and Soei’s. He must have picked up on the same info, but a little confirmation was always nice. It’d all tie in with establishing Yohm’s claim to the throne eventually.
He also told us about Yohm, the man who would be king. He had no education on how to act like a noble, much less king, so there was no way he could negotiate directly with all those high-borns. Instead, Edmaris, the former king, had joined Diablo’s cause and was in the midst of providing a crash course to the guy. Sounded good to me. With Diablo watching, I doubted the former king would try any funny stuff. Depending on how things worked out, it might be pretty neat to befriend Edmaris and take advantage of him. That would probably help Yohm out as well.
So as I listened to Diablo brief the rest of the room, I made a mental note to go see this man Edmaris for myself sometime.
The new king, to no one’s surprise, was lurking around behind the scenes.
“It’ll be a while before he makes any moves, though, right?”
At least several months, I figured, before he could regroup his forces and take real action. But Diablo disagreed—or at least had an answer well beyond my own imagination.
“Heh-heh-heh-heh… I would like to have this done sooner rather than later, so I am taking measures that will encourage him to hurry it up.”
“Huh?” He was smiling at me again. “Do we need to prepare for something?”
“No problems there. I have let Sir Benimaru organize the forces we will deploy when the time is right.”
“Yes,” Benimaru casually replied, “we are all set to go there. One force that will mingle with the general public and make its presence known, and one force operating in the shadows. Both are ready for action. The selection process was quite a pain, actually. Nearly everyone volunteered for this mission.”
They all seemed so informal about it, like they were figuring out what time to meet at the park for a picnic. It’s a little more important than that, I thought…
“However,” Diablo said as his smile faded, “there is a… I wouldn’t call it a problem, but something that does concern me slightly. I didn’t report it since it was not worth reporting at the time, but Reyhiem has yet to return.”
Ohhh, right. I thought I was forgetting something. I sent a rather pointed message to Hinata, and I still hadn’t received a reply.
“That’s the archbishop we let travel to the Holy Church to report to them, right? Did he not make it or something?”
“No, he had reached the Englesian capital accompanied by my agents, crystal ball in hand. There is a preset transport gate there that leads directly to the Church headquarters in the Holy Empire of Lubelius, so he should have arrived safely.”
The road from Farmus to Englesia was a two-week journey by wagon, hugging the coastline the whole way. Adding Lubelius to the trip would tack on another three weeks or so—but this world has magic. Between the two nations was a pair of transport gates, special magical pathways. Go through one and traverse the alternate dimension inside, and you can travel from one end to the other in an instant. Only a small handful of elites even knew about these gates, but Reyhiem, as an archbishop for a large nation, would likely be one of them. No doubt he had access, too; once he entered Englesia, he reportedly made a beeline for the capital.
He had absolutely used the gate there. The greater demon Diablo summoned to tail him said so himself. The city had a barrier over it, so a greater demon breaking in could cause a furor, so he simply watched Reyhiem go inside the gate and reported it back to Diablo.
“And he hasn’t left the capital since?”
“No. We’ve kept the city under watch, so we should be briefed once he does emerge from it…”
…but that hadn’t happened yet. Reyhiem must be stuck in the Church. I began to fear the worst.
“Did they kill him to shut him up, maybe?”
“I have not detected any such thing as of yet. My Tempter skill can seize the soul of anyone it has thrall over the moment they die.”
If there was no soul to harvest, he must still be alive. I was starting to get a little scared of Tempter, but never mind that.
I imagined Reyhiem would’ve been safe in Lubelius’s capital, what with the Temple Knights undoubtedly guarding him. But he still wasn’t back. The Church’s inquiry could’ve just been taking a while; maybe this wasn’t cause for alarm yet, but it did bother me a little. But hey, if he’s alive, then fine. As long as they didn’t kill him and blame us for it, it’s all good.
“So we still don’t really know what the Western Holy Church is up to?”
“No sir. They may try to interfere with my plans, but at the moment, it is difficult to say. I will be sure to remain on high alert and deal with whatever we discover.”
“Good. A little daunting, though. There’s too little intelligence to read the situation very well.”
If we had enough info, I could’ve just left it all to Raphael, besides.
“My apologies, my lord,” Soei stated, looking frustrated. “Attempting to infiltrate Lubelius is, sadly, a dangerous proposition…”
“Oh, no, no, you’re fine! Pushing yourself too hard never accomplishes anything!”
If we were going to sneak into the nerve center of the Holy Church, sworn enemy of monsters, Soei himself would be our only candidate. Even then, if Hinata was there, I’d be sorely anxious for him. Soka and the others wouldn’t have a chance; they’d be discovered and executed in short order. I had strict orders in place not to go overboard with this kind of thing.
Still, though…
“You think we’re gonna be enemies now?”
The message I recorded pain
ted a picture of—in so many words—putting the whole ruckus from before firmly behind us. I taunted them a tiny bit, too, but hey, I needed to have a little fun, right? …Or not? Maybe that was a bad idea, but it was out of my hands now. No undo button to press.
The overall message was friendly, though, so I was pretty sure that’s how they’d take it. Hinata was intelligent enough to make the right decision, I believed. If she opted to live alongside us without hostility, that’d be the most ideal thing.
For now, outside of the Octagram, the Church was the biggest threat out there. The Eastern Empire seemed kinda fishy, too, but they were unlikely to take action for now. If the Western Holy Church could do the same for us, Diablo’s plans were all but accomplished already.
“That is a thorny question,” Benimaru said. “Personally, I would prefer to have this dispute firmly settled, rather than leave any grudges behind.”
I appreciated his feedback, but if we were defeated, it was all over, so let’s keep it peaceful, okay?
Shuna gave me a thoughtful look. “You know, Sir Rimuru, we were attacked while you were fighting the Saint Hinata. These attacks were undoubtedly timed, and someone needed to plan that out in advance. Plus, Clayman himself hinted at the presence of someone behind the scenes…”
She helped me recall someone I really shouldn’t be forgetting about. The big man upstairs.
“‘Him,’ huh?”
“Yes,” said Hakuro, bitterly nodding. “And now that we know this someone exists and is trying to entrap us, we will need to consider his upcoming moves as well. Now is no time to let our guards down.”
“No,” Shuna said, nodding with the crowd, “no time to let anyone escape our attention.”
“Yeah… And if that guy’s involved, Hinata might take action, too.”
But something didn’t seem right to me. You know that feeling? The suspicion you’re overlooking something? And then it struck me all at once—this thing eating at me.
“…Say, what if Hinata didn’t attack me on her own volition? What if she was asked by someone or ordered to?”
“How do you mean?”
