Disclaimer: I do not own That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, High School DxD, or any other referenced properties. All characters depicted are consenting adults aged 18 or older.
Chapter 6
Samael POV
I glance at Rimuru's smile and ask great sage one more time.
"Can you tell me EXACTLY what happened today? I think I didn't hear correctly."
"You heard perfectly. Rimuru decided to take a group of ogres under her wing and offered them a name; after they accepted, the whole group evolved into Kijin and began integrating into the village."
The answer hadn't changed. Hmm.
I look at Rimuru again.
"At least tell me you made sure they aren't spies or anything like that — can you verify their story? If I find out you did something risky, I'll be upset."
"I didn't do anything dangerous, I helped a group of refugees!" It sounded good when she said it like that, but I don't think that's the whole truth.
"Sage, can you tell me how she met these refugees?"
Before Rimuru could say anything, Sage answered.
"They stole loot from a group of Hobgoblins and were chased to the village. After a conversation, Rimuru showed them that if she wanted, she could kill them instantly; I made sure there was no problem." I can detect a trace of pride in her voice but otherwise nothing. Without realizing it, I started stroking her head.
I turn my gaze back to Rimuru and see her with puffed cheeks — I think she wants to apologize.
"I think I owe you some apologies. I'm sorry I didn't trust you; I was just worried, and I think I overreacted. Can you forgive me?" I think I calmed her a little.
"Hugs!"
"Excuse me?"
"I want hugs to forgive you — you'll spend the whole day with me; we'll watch some movies together and won't be disturbed by anyone!"
"You know you could have just asked, and I'd accept almost any request like that, right? If you want, we can do that once a week, a day to just relax."
"Well, uh… I…" I decided to leave her for the moment and hugged her, then we went to the couch.
I sat down and held her in my arms; Sage came beside us and watched with a calm expression. I think I know what she wants, so I moved Rimuru to my right and put Great Sage on the left.
It's going to be a beautiful, peaceful day.
Sirius POV
I walked through the house looking for Samael. There were a few things I wanted to discuss with him today — plans that couldn't wait.
I reached the door of the living room, already forming the words in my mind. We need to talk about…
But I stopped dead in my tracks before i gut to push the door further.
On the couch, Samael sat with Rimuru curled up in his arms, her cheeks still slightly red. On the other side was Great Sage, calm as always, resting there as if the spot belonged to her.
The three of them looked so peaceful together that my words died in my throat.
For a moment I stood there silently. The atmosphere was warm, gentle — something I didn't want to disturb. Whatever I had to say could wait.
With a barely sketched smile, I close the door shut and backed away.
"…Tomorrow, then," I whispered, letting them enjoy their quiet day.
When I turned, I nearly bumped into Shizu, who was clearly heading toward Rimuru's room.
"Ah, Sirius," she said quietly. "Do you know where Rimuru is? I wanted to speak with her."
I raised my hand to stop her. "She's…busy now. Samael too."
Shizu tilted her head. "Busy? What do you mean?"
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Let's just say they both earned the right to a peaceful day together. If you go in now, you'll only disturb them. Believe me, it's better to wait until tomorrow."
For a moment, Shizu studied my expression — then a small smile formed on her lips. "I understand. In that case… I'll leave them in peace."
"Good idea," I replied. "They need it more than they realize."
"Yes, they need a little time together, alone."
"If you don't mind, can you tell me why you were looking for Rimuru?"
"Not much, just some reports about an orc army that's started invading the forest."
I stopped and looked at her. "Do you need help? If you want, we can come and help."
"Hehe, why do you seem worried? Don't worry, their army is quite far from us and won't affect our village anytime soon. From what I observed, the army is heading toward the marshes where the Lizardmen live."
"That's fine then, but if anything happens, please tell us." I decided to trust her for the moment. Seriously, when did I become so attached to this place?
After Shizu excused herself, I found myself lingering there in the quiet hallway. The door to the living room was closed again, and the soft murmur of laughter from inside had faded into a gentle hum. I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath, letting the reality of my situation wash over me.
Not long ago, I had been in a completely different world—one where dark lords and wand-waving were my daily bread. The idea of facing down a dark wizard seemed almost ordinary compared to what I'd stumbled into now.
And what a tumble it had been. The first person I'd met in this new reality was a vampire—Samael. Somehow, I'd ended up befriending him without a second thought, and now here I was: part of a strange little circle that included a slime, a spirit, and a legendary dragon.
It was almost absurd. Back home, dragons were myths or at best lesser creatures we'd exaggerated into legend, the closest creature to them I've seen is a wyvern, good thing I didn't mention that. Here, I'd shared a meal and a movie night with Veldora, a true dragon who could flatten entire kingdoms on a whim. And yet, he was just another part of the bizarre puzzle that had become my life.
I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. It was all so ridiculous that it was almost comforting. I had no idea how long I'd be here or if I'd ever find my way back to my own world. But in the meantime, I had a new reality to navigate and a new set of companions to rely on. Maybe, just maybe, I'd learn to embrace the chaos.
One day, if I ever did get the chance to return and see my godson again, I'd have the wildest stories to tell. For now, though, I'd take it one bizarre day at a time.
Samael POV
A day has passed since my… "forced relaxation" with Rimuru and Sage. I'm not complaining — it was pleasant to be quiet for once. But since things can't stay calm forever, today I went into town with Sirius.
Purpose? To register as adventurers.
You could read the word excitement on Sirius' forehead. "Just so it's clear, brother of shadows, today we step into the real world. Officially. On paper. We'll have ranks, missions, fame, maybe even inn discounts."
I raised an eyebrow. "You do realize no inn will actually give us discounts, right?"
"Let me dream."
When we entered the guild house, all eyes were on us. Of course, two strangers entering the building would attract attention.
The receptionist, a woman with a professional smile, measured us from head to toe. "Welcome to the Guild. Would you like to register as adventurers?"
"Exactly." I said calmly. "Two. Register us together."
We took out the forms and began filling in details. Name, "basic" abilities (of course censored), purpose. Sirius wrote support magic specialist. I noted melee fighter and minor summoner.
Minor. Heh.
The practical test couldn't be missing.
We were taken to the guild's training yard. A robust examiner, with muscles like a tree trunk, awaited us.
"I need to see if you deserve a rank higher than F. Show me what you know."
Sirius signaled me. "The honor is yours."
I sighed and stepped forward. I didn't feel like giving everything I had, but I also couldn't seem weak. So, I raised my hand and let a few shadows rise from the ground. Fifteen armored spearmen emerged from the shadows, taking up positions behind him. They were over 2 meters tall, dwarfing me.
The examiner blinked. "Summoning?"
"Something like that," I answered.
A gesture, and the shadows attacked. Fast, coordinated, but restrained — just enough to look spectacular without scaring everyone. The examiner raised his sword and parried, but after a few exchanges he had to retreat.
"Enough!" he raised his hand. "That's A-rank level, minimum. Maybe even higher…"
Murmurs spread through the yard.
Sirius stepped into the scene too, making a few circles with his hands. The air around the examiner suddenly stiffened, as if invisible chains had trapped him.
"A little trick," Sirius said with a mischievous smile. "I control the air around me. You don't need a wand when you know how to use your mind."
The examiner freed himself with difficulty and nodded, sweating. "You both… A-rank. No question."
After formalities, we received the IDs. Simple metal plates, but with symbolic weight.
Sirius regarded them as treasures. "Finally. Official adventurers. What do we do first? Save a princess? Hunt a dragon?"
"We go eat," I said curtly. "After that, we pick something simple. We don't want to attract too much attention. Yet."
He laughed. "Simple for you means what? Exterminate a group of ogres? Or maybe just an army of orcs?"
He gets a giggle with no reply. Shadows were already dancing in my mind.
First official mission: extermination of a giant scorpion terrorizing the roads near Blumund.
The receptionist had warned us seriously: "The creature's carapace is resistant to conventional weapons, and it has venom enough to kill a man in an instant. Do not underestimate your opponent."
We acknowledge the threat. In my head? Sounds like a snack.
The journey to the rocky desert would have been quiet, had it not been for Sirius' comments
"See, this is the beauty: we have an official contract, we get paid, and nobody looks weird when we go to kill a monster. We'll become legends."
"Or just bored," I said, tossing a stone into the sand. "Depends how quickly we finish."
We approached a rocky valley. The ground was scarred with deep tracks — claws, tail, carapace. I smelled poison in the air.
"It's close," I murmured. I let shadow flow under my feet, and four shadow soldiers with spears rose.
Sirius whistled. "I'm still shocked by how natural you make this look. Like painting with a brush."
I shrugged. "A hobby."
A deafening noise shattered the silence. The rocks trembled, and the monster emerged: a ten-meter scorpion, carapace black as obsidian, its pincers gleaming in the sun. Its tail moved hypnotically, ready to strike.
Sirius took two steps back, wearing a crooked smile. "Well, looks worse than I imagined. Who starts?"
"Leave it to me," I said.
My shadows charged; their spears struck the carapace. No visible effect.
The scorpion raised its tail and pierced, a soldier turned into a shadow and disappeared.
"Hm. Resistant." I snapped my fingers and called another wave. This time, not just soldiers — a blood wolf formed beside me, fangs shining red.
"Attack."
The wolf leapt, biting its neck, shattering the plates of its carapace. The monster roared, black blood splattering the sand. At the same time, Sirius raised his hands and compressed mana around the scorpion's tail, slowing it as if clamped in a vise.
"I made you an opening! Take advantage!"
I formed a lance of blood, thick and heavy, sharper than diamond. With a casual throw i pierced an eye.
A howl. Flailing. The sand shook.
Then silence.
Sirius collapsed on a rock, breathing hard but smiling. "Well… that was fun."
"Fun, yes. Dangerous? Not really." I summoned shadows to disassemble the scorpion's body and store the useful parts. "The carapace and venom will fetch us a good payment."
"And reputation," added Sirius with a wide grin. "A-rank is only the beginning."
I smiled faintly, watching the blood wolf still nibbling bits of carapace before disappearing into the mist.
Yes… and for me it's only the beginning.
We returned to the city road. The scorpion's carapace was stored in my dimension, and Sirius hummed something cheerful, as if we'd been on a picnic, not after an A-rank mission.
After a few minutes of silence, he took a serious glance at me.
"Can I ask you something, Samael."
"Hm?"
"Why do you bother to create soldiers, wolves, birds from shadow and blood? Wouldn't it be simpler to control shadows and blood directly? I mean, you could just make a shadow arm or a blood blade and that's it. Instead of… this whole army."
I smiled a little. I knew the question would come.
"For me it would be easy, yes. But the problem isn't whether I can control everything… it's how much it consumes me to do that."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Consumes? You seemed relaxed in the fight."
I raised my hand and let a sphere of blood float in the air. It transformed into a blade, then a claw, then melted again.
"If I tried to direct every detail myself in the middle of a fight, it would be like trying to play five instruments at once, alone. Possible, but unnecessarily exhausting."
At that moment, Great Sage's calm voice echoed:
(Explanation: sub-abilities were created that transform mana, shadow and blood into semi-autonomous structures. They operate based on predefined instruction sets, reducing the user's cognitive load. In simple terms: it's better to command an army that obeys than to move each soldier manually.)
Sirius laughed. "So… you make smart puppets that know what to do so you don't bother your head."
"Exactly," I said with a smile. "I give the order, they execute. It's more efficient to create creatures that follow instructions than to waste time controlling every detail. That way I can focus on the important part of the fight."
Sirius looked at me for a long moment, then laughed again. "You're lazy, but in a brilliant way."
"I prefer to say efficient."
Sirius was silent for a few moments, then turned to me with a somewhat puzzled look.
"Samael… can I ask something weird?"
"Shoot."
"Why can I hear Great Sage too? Shouldn't she be only in your and Rimuru's minds? Still, when she explained your creatures, I heard her voice clearly, like she was speaking directly to me."
I stopped walking, surprised for a moment. I tried to find an answer, but… nothing.
"I don't know."
Sirius blinked. "That's it? You don't know?"
"Yes. If I had a reason or an explanation I'd tell you. But this time… I really don't know."
Great Sage remained silent, which confirmed even more that she either didn't want to or couldn't answer now.
Sirius sighed, but the smile returned immediately. "Well then, I'll accept that I got an unexpected bonus. I like her voice, it's… soothing."
I raised an eyebrow. "Be careful; if you annoy her, not only will she stop responding to you, but she might block you in the middle of the battle."
Sirius laughed shortly. "Then I'll make sure to stay in her good graces. Especially since she's smarter than the two of us combined."
I couldn't help but agree.
The city gate was crowded. Merchants, caravans, two adventurers arguing over a wine-stained map… the normalcy that tells you peace still holds. We passed through that bustle at our usual pace. Behind me, Sirius twirled his ID between his fingers like a new toy.
"How long until everyone finds out we finished the mission in half a day?" he asked.
"Before we get to the counter."
I wasn't joking. When we opened the guild door, the murmur of voices stopped in an instant. Two pairs of eyes went to the trophy we left on the counter: the scorpion's stinger, still glossy, and a large piece of black carapace.
The receptionist blinked once, then smiled perfectly. "Welcome back. We'll check the samples immediately."
An examiner appeared out of nowhere, stabbed the carapace with a steel nail, tested the venom with a blue strip that turned black, then nodded shortly. "Confirmed."
The payment envelope slid across the counter. Sirius pushed it to me. "You keep it. I'm the type to spend it on pastries."
Rimuru POV
The day seemed quiet. Samael and Sirius had gone into town, and I was trying to keep the village occupied and organized. I told myself everything was fine: the ogres had integrated, the goblins were happy, and the newcomers were starting to get used to things.
But the calm was shattered when Souei appeared in front of me, from the shadows, as was his habit. His expression was solemn.
"Rimuru-sama," he said in a calm but heavy voice. "I discovered something you need to know."
I moved immediately, feeling a knot in my stomach. "What happened?"
Souei took a step closer. "I've been investigating the strange movements in the forest. It's an army of orcs. Their number is about two hundred thousand. They're heading for the Lizardmen swamps. If they're not stopped, they'll devastate everything they encounter."
"Two hundred thousand…?" I repeated, calm outwardly but with a cold wave passing through my heart. "Are you sure?"
Souei tilted his head with the same solemn expression. "I checked personally. It isn't a simple mob. They move organized. Someone is leading them."
I stood up from my chair and took a deep breath. "I understand. Thank you, Souei. You did well to come to me immediately."
I tried to keep my voice steady. I couldn't let panic creep in — if I faltered, the whole village would falter. Still, in my head thoughts collided chaotically: Two hundred thousand orcs… this isn't a mere danger, it's a catastrophe that could swallow everything we built.
"Alright," I said finally, more to myself than to Souei. "We won't make any rushed decisions. We'll organize a council. I want to talk to the most powerful people in the village."
Souei nodded. "Who do you want summoned?"
I began counting on my fingers. "Rigurd — because he's the hobgoblin leader and knows best how the villagers stand. Benimaru and Hakurou — their experience and strength are indispensable. Shuna — her sensibilities and support magic can make a difference. Shizu — I want to hear her perspective, she has experience as an adventurer. Ranga — his loyalty and strength give us an advantage. And Kaijin, for logistics and because his practical thinking will help us."
Council Meeting
The room is quiet. Around the table sat Rigurd, Benimaru, Hakurou, Shuna, Shizu, Ranga curled up quietly at the side, and Kaijin with his arms folded. Souei lingered like a shadow in the corner, having delivered his report.
Just as I was about to start, the door slid open again, and in strode Shion, uninvited but absolutely determined. She took up a spot behind me, arms folded, looking like she'd made up her mind.
I blinked at her with mild surprise. "Shion, I didn't call you to the council meeting. Is something the matter?"
She straightened proudly. "From now on, Rimuru-sama, I am your bodyguard. Or your secretary. Whichever you prefer! I will always be by your side."
There was a brief silence, and then a couple of chuckles from around the table. Benimaru smirked, and Shuna smiled softly. Even Hakurou's lips twitched in amusement.
I couldn't help but laugh a little. "All right, Shion. You can stay. Just keep an eye out for us."
Shion nodded firmly, looking pleased, and took up her self-appointed position behind my chair. It was oddly comforting to have her there, even if she was a bit overeager.
"Now that we're all here," I said, bringing the focus back, "Souei's report is serious. We have a massive orc army heading for the Lizardmen's marshes, and we need to decide our next steps."
"Everyone, I appreciate your readiness," I began, "and it seems we're all prepared for the possibility of war. But before we plan further, I need to clarify something with you, Benimaru."
Benimaru straightened, his gaze met mine. "Of course, Rimuru-sama. Ask whatever you need."
I nodded. "Are these orcs the same army that trampled your village and forced you and the others to flee?"
For a moment, Benimaru's eyes darkened, a flicker of old anger passing through them. Then he exhaled slowly. "Yes. I have no doubt. The description matches perfectly. These are the same orcs who destroyed our home. They move under a leader who wields a terrible power."
I glanced around the table, seeing the determination in everyone's faces. "Then it seems we have even more reason to act. We'll stand together on this."
I let the weight of Benimaru's confirmation settle over the room. The orc army was indeed the same one that had destroyed his village, and that gave us even more reason to take this seriously.
"Now the question is," I continued, "what do we do about the lizardmen? We must figure out how to approach them. They are not yet our allies, and we cannot simply march into their swamps without provoking them."
Benimaru was the first to speak up. "Rimuru-sama, the Lizardmen have a strong warrior tradition. If we approach them correctly, they could be valuable helpers in the fight. We can propose that they join forces with us on the battlefield."
Hakurou, ever the voice of calm wisdom, nodded thoughtfully. "An alliance would indeed be the most stable path. We should send envoys to negotiate terms. If we present ourselves as allies rather than saviors, they're more likely to trust us."
Shuna added gently, "And once we form that alliance, it will be important to maintain it. We need to show them we're not just using them for this battle. We should build a relationship that lasts beyond the orc threat."
I smiled, feeling a sense of pride in my companions. They were all thinking not just of the immediate problem, but of the future. "All right. We'll approach the Lizardmen and propose an alliance. We'll make it clear we're in this together, not just for this battle, but as long-term partners."
As everyone nodded in agreement, I felt a wave of determination fill the room. We had a plan, and we'd face the orc army with a new allied by our side.
As the council was deep in discussion about alliances with the Lizardmen, Souei suddenly straightened, his eyes flickering toward the door. "Rimuru-sama," he said, "we have an unexpected visitor. A convoy of Lizardmen has arrived at the village entrance."
All eyes turned toward Souei, and then to me. I blinked and nodded. "Well, I suppose that's our cue. Let's see what they want. I'll go in my slime form for now."
With a casual hop, I let my humanoid shape slip away and returned to my small, bouncy slime form. After all, it was always amusing to see how people underestimated a little blob of jelly.
We stepped outside to find that the Lizardmen had indeed lined up in a rather dramatic formation. Two groups stood on either side, leaving a wide gap in the middle as if they were preparing for a grand entrance.
And then, on cue, a Lizardman appeared. He leapt into the center of the space with a dramatic gesture, two of his followers holding reflective mirrors to catch the light and cast a brilliant glow around him, he rehearsed the moment.
"Behold!" the Lizardman declared loudly, puffing out his chest. "It is I, the great Gabiru, here to grace your humble village with my presence! I have come to offer you the honor of my assistance in these troubled times."
As he spoke, he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was addressing what appeared to be just a small blue slime at the head of the group.
Gabiru stood there, practically glowing under the reflected light, and puffed himself up even more. "You see, you humble goblins have the privilege of being visited by the mighty Gabiru! I am here to offer you the chance to submit and follow my leadership so that we may face this orc threat together!"
Rigurd, who had been listening with a mixture of confusion and amusement, raised a hand cautiously. "Excuse me, great Gabiru, but what exactly are you talking about? We haven't heard of you before."
Gabiru blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question, but he recovered quickly. "Ah, that is because you have simply not yet had the honor of meeting me! But let me enlighten you: there is an orc army on the move, a large one indeed. But fear not! For if all the goblins in this forest unite under my leadership, we will easily defeat them!"
I, still in slime form, bobbed slightly and tried to hold back a chuckle. Gabiru was utterly convinced of his own magnificence, and it was both entertaining and a little endearing. Rigurd exchanged a glance with the others, clearly not sure whether to laugh or to take Gabiru seriously.
Gabiru continued, "So, what do you say, goblins? Will you pledge yourselves to the great Gabiru and march with me to victory?"
Gabiru puffed up even more, and as he prepared to speak, he let his gaze sweep over the assembled villagers. He expected a bunch of simple goblins, but what he saw made him pause. These creatures weren't the plain goblins he'd imagined. There were Hobgoblins, Kijin, and even a few other species mixed in. No simple goblin faces stared back at him; instead, he found himself looking at a variety of evolved beings, all standing calmly as if this were perfectly normal.
Gabiru blinked a few times, then frowned slightly. "Wait a moment… where are all the goblins? I was told this was a goblin village."
Rigurd stepped forward, bowing slightly. "We were once goblins, Sir Gabiru. Under Rimuru-sama's leadership, many of us evolved. But yes, this is indeed our village, and Rimuru-sama is our leader."
Gabiru's frown deepened, and he glanced around again. He clearly hadn't expected this. "Your leader is… where? I demand to speak with whoever is in charge!"
Rigurd gave a small smile and gestured gently toward me, the little blue slime at the front. "This is our leader, Rimuru-sama."
Gabiru stared at the slime, then back at Rigurd, and then at the slime again. "You must be joking," he said, a note of irritation creeping into his voice. "How can a mere slime be the leader of such a village? Are you telling me you all take orders from… from that?"
I, still in slime form, wobbled slightly and replied cheerfully, "Yep! That would be me. Don't worry, I promise I know what I'm doing."
Gabiru looked like he'd just been told the sky was green. "This is absurd! A slime as a leader? I came here expecting to find a proper chief, not… whatever this is!"
As Gabiru continued to grumble about how absurd it was to have a slime as a leader, the atmosphere around him started to shift. The once polite smiles of the villagers began to fade, replaced by narrow eyes and quiet murmurs of annoyance.
Benimaru was the first to speak up, his voice carrying a hint of irritation. "Rimuru-sama, may I have permission to deal with this insolent Lizardmen? Just a quick slash."
I quickly shook my head—or rather, wobbled slightly in slime form. "No, Benimaru, let's not jump to conclusions. We don't need to resort to violence just because he's being a bit… rude."
Benimaru sighed but stepped back, though he kept a wary eye on Gabiru. Meanwhile, Ranga emerged silently from my shadow, his fur shimmering as he stepped into the light. He gave a deep growl, which made Gabiru's eyes widen in surprise.
"Oh! What a magnificent wolf you have here," Gabiru said, momentarily distracted. "Such beautiful fur! It's a shame he serves a mere slime"
Ranga's growl deepened, and he bared his fangs slightly. The air around them grew tense. It was clear that the villagers were not amused by Gabiru's insults towards me.
Just as the tension crackled at its peak, in popped Gobta, scratching his head as if he'd just woken up from a nap. "Hey, what's going on here?"
Ranga, sensing an opportunity for a little fun, nudged Gobta gently forward with his nose. "Why don't you settle this for us, Gobta?"
Gobta blinked, utterly confused. "Eh? Settle what?"
I chuckled a bit and explained, "Well, Gobta, Gabiru here thinks he can just waltz in and take over. So, we'll make it simple: if you can beat him in a duel—just a friendly duel, no killing—then he'll have to leave quietly. And if he wins, well, we'll listen to what he has to say."
Gobta's eyes widened. "Wait, me? Why me?"
I smiled. "Because you're perfect for this, Gobta. And I'll even give you a new weapon if you win. Just remember, you only need to beat him, not kill him."
Gobta brightened at that, a grin spreading across his face. "A new weapon? That sounds great!"
I leaned in a little closer and added quietly, "But if you lose, I'm going to tell Samael you were staring at my ass."
Gobta gulped and straightened up instantly. "I won't lose!" he declared, suddenly a lot more motivated.
Gabiru, who had been watching all of this with a mix of confusion and growing annoyance, now had to face off against a very determined Gobta. And all around us, the village watched with a mix of amusement and curiosity. This was going to be interesting.
The crowd gathered quickly, forming a circle around Gobta and Gabiru. The atmosphere was charged with expectation, though I had the sneaking suspicion that most of the villagers were here for laughter rather than the drama.
Gabiru drew himself up tall, puffing out his chest and swishing his tail dramatically. His followers cheered and waved their arms, clearly rehearsed in hyping him up.
"Prepare yourself, lowly goblin!" Gabiru declared. "Today, you will face the overwhelming might of Gabiru-sama!"
Benimaru smirked, whispering to Shuna, "This should be entertaining."
Shuna covered her mouth with a polite smile, clearly amused.
"Begin!" Hakurou announced calmly, acting as referee.
Gobta surprised everyone by taking a deep breath before the duel began, shoulders squaring in a way that made him look, for once, like an actual warrior rather than a sleepy layabout. His usual clumsy grin was gone, replaced by focus.
Gabiru lunged first, spear flashing in the sunlight. His movements were sharp, confident—he had real training. But Gobta didn't dodge by accident this time. He parried with his wooden blade, stepping just out of reach, his eyes locked on Gabiru's every move
.
'Not bad,' Gobta muttered under his breath., tightening his grip.
Gasps echoed through the crowd as Gobta countered cleanly, knocking aside another thrust. Each exchange made it clearer: luck had nothing to do with it. Gobta could fight seriously—he just almost never did.
Gabiru's irritation grew. His strikes got wilder, his tail whipping the air with frustration. "You dare stand equal to me?!"
That recklessness was his undoing. Gobta shifted low, ducking under a sweeping spear, and in one fluid motion slammed the flat of his blade across Gabiru's snout. The crack rang through the village square.
Gabiru froze, eyes crossed—and then toppled face-first into the dirt, out cold. Silence lingered for a moment before the village exploded in cheers and laughter.
Ranga barked approvingly, and Benimaru chuckled. "Well, Gobta just proved himself more useful than expected."
Shion raised a fist triumphantly. "Of course! Rimuru-sama's training makes champions!"
I bobbed forward and patted Gobta's leg. "Good job. You fought seriously this time. That's the Gobta I knew was in there somewhere."
He grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Hehe… guess I had to, or you'd tell Samael that thing…"
The crowd roared again, and Gabiru's followers scrambled to haul their unconscious leader away, muttering about "Lord Gabiru's next glorious comeback" while tripping over their own tails.
I bounced once to get everyone's attention. "Alright, show's over. We've got bigger problems than bruised egos. Back to the council chamber."
Benimaru's grin sharpened into focus. Hakurou gave a single nod. Shuna, Shizu, Kaijin, and Rigurd fell in, the mirth draining but the warmth lingering. Gobta jogged after us, cradling his wooden sword like a trophy.
"Rimuru-sama! About that new weapon—"
"You'll get it," I said, amused. "After the meeting. Try not to trip on the way."
He puffed up. "I will trip only with purpose!"
"…Right."
Inside the council room, the door slid shut and the hum of the village faded. Faces turned serious. Souei stepped from the shadowed corner, kneeling lightly.
"I tailed them until the treeline," he reported. "They're heading straight back to the Lizardmen marshes. Word of their 'defeat' will travel quickly."
"Good," I said. "Let it. A little humility might save lives."
I hopped to my seat and looked around the table. "Okay. Orc army first, diplomacy second. We proceed on both fronts."
Benimaru folded his arms. "If Gabiru's faction controls the approach to the marsh, they may reject formal talks out of wounded pride."
"Then we bypass pride," I replied. "Souei, you'll prepare a quiet route for a small envoy to reach the Lizardmen Chief directly."
Souei bowed. "Understood."
"Hakurou," I continued, "outline defensive drills for the village. Rotations, alarm signals, rally points. If the orcs change course, I want us ready."
"As you wish," he said, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
"Shuna, prepare supply caches and a field-aid plan. Kaijin, inventory weapons and armor—we'll need repairs and upgrades on a schedule, not a panic."
Shuna nodded.
Kaijin thumped a fist to his chest. "We'll have a work queue by nightfall."
"Benimaru," I added, "draft our terms of alliance: mutual defense against the orcs, shared scouting reports, and command coordination on the battlefield. No subjugation, no 'kneel to me'."
His lips were curved. "A message even Gabiru can't misunderstand."
"Ranga," I said, and a pair of golden eyes gleamed in the dim, "shadow-run the outer perimeter with your pack. If the orcs push scouts this far, I want to know before they take a second step."
"At once, Master," he rumbled.
Finally, I glanced at Shizu. "If this escalates, civilian routes out of harm's way?"
"I'll map two," she said. "One obvious for decoy traffic, one quiet for actual evac."
I bobbed in approval. "Perfect. When Gabiru wakes, he can come back properly—or we'll meet his chief without the drumroll."
Chairs scraped softly as everyone rose to execute. Gobta lingered by the door, eyes bright.
"Rimuru-sama… I didn't, uh, dishonor the village, did I?"
I bounced closer. "You won us breathing room with a wooden sword and world-class timing. That's a win in my book."
He beamed. "Then… weapon?"
I sighed, smiling. "After dinner. And Gobta?"
"Yes!"
"No dueling the stew pot."
"…I can't promise that."
As everyone rose to carry out their tasks, a small thought ticked at the back of my mind — a memory surfacing like a pebble in a pond. I stopped mid-bounce, the room sensing the tiny shift in my mood.
"Hakurou," I said, voice a little sharper than before. The old man looked up immediately, attentive as ever.
"Yes, Rimuru-sama?" he asked.
"I just remembered something important." I let the memory settle into words. "We need to start formal army training. Not just drills for a few volunteers—organized, scheduled training for anyone who might be sent to the front or who will defend the village. If the orc army is as large as Souei says, we can't rely only on powerful individuals to carry everything. We need units who can act together."
Hakurou's eyes softened with approval. "A wise decision. Formation discipline, combined attacks… it will make a difference."
I nodded. "Do it. I give you authority to organize and command the training. Use whatever you need. In fact—" I blinked, and an idea that had been dormant clicked into place. "You can use the training room in the dimension."
A wave of surprise passed around the table. Kaijin's eyebrows shot up. Benimaru glanced at me curiously.
Hakurou tilted his head. "The room? The one you keep for—"
"For special cases," I finished. "Yes. There's a room in Dimension where the concept of death is… suspended, if the person wears the bracelet we'll supply. If someone in training reaches the point of fatal injury, the room will automatically transport them out of the field and into the recovery chamber, then heal them. It's safe, controlled, and it lets trainees put themselves through high-risk scenarios without the real cost of death."
Hakurou's hands tightened once on his staff, a warrior's respect for responsibility showing. "You'd grant such power for training? To risk that many lives even in rehearsal?"
"It's not about risking lives," I said. "It's about preparing them. The orcs won't be merciful — if our people have never experienced close combat, they'll freeze, or worse. This room lets them face death and learn to operate under battlefield conditions. The bracelet is the key: it's keyed to the room's safety protocol. No bracelet, no protection. With it on, when someone's vital signs cross the fatal threshold, we pull them out instantly and heal them. They wake up alive, with the wounds gone, and with the memory of having been at the edge. That experience is invaluable."
Shuna's lips pressed into a thoughtful line. "Will the healing alter their psychological response? If they die and wake repeatedly, they might become reckless… or numb."
"Good point," I said. "That's why training is regulated. We'll set limits: how many sessions a trainee can do per day, mandatory debriefs, and counseling. I'll give you the bracelets — but you must keep strict records. Only those who volunteer and are mentally fit will be permitted. No coercion."
Hakurou bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Understood. I will design a regimen with staggered intensity. New recruits start with coordinated drills and sim attacks. Only after they show composure will they be allowed into the chamber simulations. I'll also set a limit on how often each person can be pulled into the chamber — rest and reflection are part of becoming a soldier."
"Good," I said, feeling my decision settle right. "Give the training room my authorization."
"Send them to Kaijin for logistics and to me directly for final approval of those who enter the training chamber. Also, a rotation that keeps our strongest fighters available for the village. Training should not hollow out our defenses."
"Very well," Hakurou said. He bowed, then met my gaze with a spark of the old warrior's pride. "We will make soldiers who can stand when the sky falls."
I waved. "I know you will. Begin."
As they dispersed, the air in the council room felt charged with purpose rather than fear. The bracelets lay quiet in my hand for a moment before I tucked them away — a small, serious promise that we'd do everything we could to prepare without abandoning our people to needless mortality.
Outside, Gobta's rush of glee about dinner and his new weapon echoed faintly, a reminder of the ordinary joys we were protecting. Inside, plans were already taking shape. The orc threat loomed, but for the first time since Souei's report, it felt like we had a clear, responsible way to meet it.
In the calm that settled after everyone left, I sighed in relief. "Thank you, Great Sage," I thought to myself, feeling the familiar presence of my fiancée who always helped me. "You really arranged everything in the room perfectly. I appreciate it."
Great Sage's calm, even voice echoed back in my mind. "You are welcome. The training chamber was created according to your specifications. However, I have added certain constraints to ensure it serves its purpose effectively."
I tilted my metaphorical head. "Constraints, huh? Like what?"
"In essence," Great Sage explained, "I could have designed a space that completely negated the concept of injury or death, allowing the trainees to be entirely free from any real consequences."
I nodded internally. "But you didn't. Because that would make them reckless, right?"
"Precisely," she replied. "If individuals believe they cannot be harmed at all, they may develop habits of carelessness. By allowing them to experience the brink of defeat and then recover, they will learn caution but also resilience. In short, they will not lose their respect for real danger."
I felt a wave of gratitude. "That's exactly what we need. You always think a step ahead, don't you?"
"It is my function," Great Sage said, and I could almost sense a hint of warmth in that cool, analytical tone. "Now the training can proceed with the proper balance of safety and realism."
With that settled, I took a moment just to appreciate having such a reliable partner in my mind. "Thank you, Great Sage. Let's make sure we guide them well. This is going to be a big step for everyone."
"Of course," she replied. And with that, I knew we were on the right track.
I let the silence of the empty room wrap around me for a moment longer. (Great Sage...) I began thoughtfully, (there's something else on my mind.)
"I am listening," Great Sage's calm voice responded within my thoughts.
(It's about Samael. I know he worries about me and wants to protect me. But I think if I tell him everything, he'll just try to shield me even more. I need to do some things on my own, without him hovering over me.)
"You wish to assert your independence," Great Sage summarized, her tone understanding. "It is a natural desire. You are a leader in your own right."
(Exactly. I don't want to keep secrets that would endanger anyone, but I also want to show him I can handle myself. If I rely on him for everything, I'll never grow.)
"In that case," Great Sage replied, "it would be wise to communicate your intentions clearly. You can inform Samael of your plans and boundaries, so he understands your need for autonomy."
I nodded—or at least gave the slime-equivalent of a nod. (You're right. I'll be honest with him. I'll let him know I trust him, but I also need him to trust me to handle some things on my own. It's time to step out of the shadow a bit.)
"A wise course of action," Great Sage agreed. "I will support you in this, as always."
With a newfound sense of resolve, I bounced lightly, ready to face whatever came next—this time, on my own terms.
Samael POV
Here I am, sitting in a city tavern with Sirius, a midday drink in hand. We're taking a breather after registering at the guild, and honestly, it feels good to just relax and grab a meal. Sirius is rambling about how we're going to become local legends soon enough—though I'm just enjoying the moment of peace. But even as I listen, I can't help but pick up on the rumors swirling around the room—whispers of orc movements somewhere out there.
The place is loud enough that most words blur together—mugs clacking, a lute stumbling through the same three chords—but certain phrases keep cutting through the noise: "marsh border," "supply train hit," "mud-eaters marching," "too organized to be rabble." I don't seem to be listening. I maintain my relaxed posture; my gaze fixed on the rim of the cup. Shadows curl lazily on my boots, like sleeping cats.
Sirius taps his plate with a fork, musing about whether we should try a B-rank escort next— "low effort, high payout"—and I make a noncommittal sound. Across the room, a courier in road-stained leathers trades a hushed account for a free bowl of stew. "Tracks by the flats—thousands," he says, voice low but steady. "Not scatter-brained either. Someone's drilling them."
Thousands. Organized. I let the words slot into place and try not to think of a small blue slime who insists she's fine.
Sirius leans back, follows my glance without being obvious. "You're hearing it too," he murmurs, more statement than question.
I tilt my cup, watching the amber sway. "Everyone's suddenly an expert on footprints," I say, dry. But the joke lands short. A pair of merchants at the next table argue over a map stained with wine and dust. One jabs a finger at a river bend. "If they cross here, the lizard folk get boxed in," he hisses. "And when swamps churn, caravans starve."
Boxed in. My jaw tightens. I picture Rimuru smiling like the world can't possibly go wrong, promising me she'll be careful—and then doing something heroic and mildly suicidal because it's her.
Sirius drops his voice. "We could go check. Quietly. One afternoon—"
"No." The word is out before I sand it down. I take a breath, soften it. "Not yet. If we bolt every time someone whispers 'army,' we'll just leave trails and questions. We finished our business clean. Then we move."
He studies me over the rim of his drink, the way you study an old friend's scar when it aches in the rain. "You're thinking about her."
"I'm thinking about logistics," I lie, and it's such a transparent lie that even the shadow at my heel shifts like it wants to laugh.
The door swings open and a draft finger the room. A guild runner—kid, freckles, lungs like a bell—calls for any bands taking recon contracts toward the wetlands. Not fights. Eyes. The request gets a few snorts and one half-raised hand that lowers when a companion mutters "not worth dying for copper."
I tap the table twice. A small habit. A promise to myself. I let a sliver of shadow slip along the floorboards, thin as spilled ink, skirting boots and chair legs until it pools beneath the guild runner's own shadow. It lingers—listens—then comes back to me with the soft weight of borrowed words.
Raid patterns along feeder roads. Missing scavengers. A lizardman envoy seen on the east way yesterday and not seen returning.
Not great.
Sirius aims his fork at my plate. "Eat. The stew's decent. For once it tastes like cow and not apology."
I take a mechanical bite. It's fine. Everything in this city is fine—sun overhead, coin in pocket, blood off my hands for a handful of hours—and still the back of my neck hums like wire.
"Relax," Sirius says, but quietly, like he knows the word is a bridge that can snap under too much weight. "If it gets bad, she'll call. Or Sage will."
"Mm." I swirl the last of my drink and watch the light catch the surface. If it gets bad, she'll call. Unless she decides not to. Unless she decides she needs to prove something to herself before I can smother it in safeguards.
I set the cup down and flex my fingers. The shadow at my feet blooms into a coin the color of dusk, then hardens, wafer-thin, etched with an old sigil only two people besides me can read. I slid it across the table to Sirius.
"Signal token," I say. "If I have to move without you, break it. It will guide you to me. If you have to move without me, put a little magic in it. It will guide me to you."
He turns it in his palm, brows rising. "Obvious question: why didn't we use these sooner?"
"Because I prefer talking to you over trusting my own magic," I say, and that wins a crooked grin out of him.
From the corner, the courier's voice drifts again, softer now, like he's already regretting speaking. "Not a horde, I'm telling you. An army. You can feel a horde in your bones, messy like weather. This felt… straight."
Straight. Directed. A chill trickles down my spine despite the noon heat.
Sirius clinks his cup to mine. "To being overprepared."
I lift mine, let the rims kiss, and drink. "To pretending it's just lunch," I answer.
Outside, the city hums like nothing is wrong. Inside, I stack small decisions: finish the paperwork; pick up the reinforced pack; send two shadows ahead along separate roads to watch and report; draft a list of things Rimuru will never forgive me for if I show up uninvited—and weigh them against the list of things I won't forgive myself for if I don't.
Sirius pushes his empty plate away and stretches. "One more round?" he asks.
I smiled and looked at him. "Sure, even if I leave now, it's probably too early, I'll get ready, but I won't intervene unless something happens."
Omake (Gobta, the god of luck)
Gabiru wasted no time. With surprising speed, he lunged forward, spear thrusting straight for Gobta's chest. His movements weren't sloppy—he really had trained.
But Gobta yawned, stumbled backward, and by sheer accident tripped on his own foot. The spear whistled through the air harmlessly.
The villagers gasped.
Gabiru blinked. "Wha—? Don't think you can evade me forever!"
He attacked again, his spear dancing in arcs. But Gobta's panicked dodges somehow carried him just out of reach each time—ducking to scratch his head, slipping on a pebble, or bending down to tie his sandal.
It looked clumsy, but it was working.
I nearly laughed out loud. This is Gobta's specialty: unbelievable dumb luck.
Then, in one particularly wild swing, Gabiru overextended. His tail flicked at the wrong angle, throwing off his balance.
"Eh?!" Gabiru stumbled forward.
At that exact moment, Gobta tripped again, flailing his wooden practice sword smacking Gabiru squarely on the snout.
THWACK!
The moment Gobta's wooden sword accidentally smacked Gabiru on the snout, the proud lizardman's eyes rolled back in surprise. He gave a startled "urk!" and promptly collapsed to the ground, out cold.
For a heartbeat, everyone froze. Then the entire village erupted into even louder laughter and cheers.
"Did he just…?" Benimaru asked, trying not to laugh. "Yes, yes he did."
Gobta stood there blinking, looking down at the unconscious Gabiru. "Uh… oops? I guess I didn't know my own strength!"
The villagers cheered even louder. "Gobta the mighty!" someone shouted, clearly enjoying the spectacle.
I bounced over and nodded approvingly. "Well, Gobta, you won that one. And I suppose that settles it. Gabiru will have to accept the result when he wakes up."
As Gabiru's followers scrambled to gather their unconscious leader, I turned to them and said, "Don't worry, he'll be fine."
Gabiru's followers hurried to lift their fallen "great leader," looking torn between shame and worry. One of them stammered, "L-Lord Gabiru merely underestimated his opponent! Next time, he will surely—"
I wobbled closer, cutting him off. "Relax. He'll wake up soon, pride bruised more than anything. But remember this—strength isn't only about flashy speeches. Sometimes, luck and heart win battles too."
Gobta grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah… heart. Definitely, heart."
The villagers roared with laughter again.
Benimaru leaned over to Hakurou, whispering just loud enough for me to hear. "Should we add Gobta to the frontlines, then?"
Hakurou's mouth twitched in something close to a smile. "Perhaps. Fortune favors fools."
Ranga gave a soft growl that sounded suspiciously like laughter, while Shion puffed out her chest. "Hah! Of course, Rimuru-sama's training produces nothing but champions!"
I sighed, half amused, half exasperated. "Training? Shion, I literally told him to watch the gate and not fall asleep…"
The goblins chuckled harder. Even Shizu, who had been quiet until now, shook her head with a faint smile.
Gabiru groaned once as his followers hoisted him up—then went limp again, tail dragging a sad furrow in the dirt. The entourage glanced at the ring of amused faces, at Benimaru's half-smile, at Ranga's quietly rumbling chest.
Panic bloomed.
"R–Retreat! Form a protective shell around Lord Gabiru!" one of them squeaked.
They scrambled into a lopsided formation, mirrors clacking, spears wobbling, and broke into a full sprint out of the village—sandals slapping, tails whipping, bravado evaporating. In ten seconds, all that remained was a settling cloud of dust and a faint echo of, "Make way for the great—aaah!" from somewhere down the road.
Silence lingered a beat. Then the village erupted in laughter, claps on Gobta's back, Shion posing like a proud instructor, Ranga sneezing as dust tickled his nose.