Current State:
* Location: City Gates / Feast Hall, City of Tempest.
* Inventory: Common Leather Canteen, Vintage Elven Wine (Half-consumed), Wooden Cart (Stored), Silk-lined Saddle (Equipped).
* Active Sub-Skills: [Law Manipulation – Copy], [Spatial Motion], [Density Laws], [Corrosive Resistance], [Enhanced Physical Constitution], [Starving] (Analytical), [Magic Ball Manipulation], [Command Law: Hive Mind], [Draconic Aura: Residual Frequency].
* Soul Capacity: 42% (Stabilized).
* Magicule Reserve: 80.9%.
* Status: Receiving the delegates of Demon Lord Carrion.
Chapter 26: The Beastly Exchange
"Don't eat the ambassadors, Milim," I transmit, my obsidian surface reflecting the glint of the Pegasus Knights' silver armor. "It's bad for the long-term growth of the city. We need their trade routes, not their protein."
"I know, I know! You're so bossy, Shinji!" Milim huffs, though she doesn't stop licking the honey off her knuckles. The pressure she radiates is still immense, but it has shifted from 'Total Annihilation' to 'Aggressive Toddler.'
The delegates from Eurazania—the Three Beastketeers—were not what I expected. I was hoping for buttoned-up diplomats with briefcases and a healthy respect for zoning laws. Instead, we got a group that looked like they'd just finished a high-stakes brawl in a jungle gym. Albis, the Golden Serpent, maintained a sliver of decorum, but the one called Phobio looked like he was five seconds away from trying to punch the sun.
"A formal exchange," Rimuru says, bouncing excitedly as we lead the group toward the newly finished banquet hall. "This is huge! Our first real international relations!"
Notice. Target: Phobio is radiating high-frequency hostility. His magicule signature is erratic. Analysis: High risk of impulsive behavior. Suggestion: Keep [Transaction Domain] on standby to prevent structural damage to the executive wing.
Azathoth, if that cat-man breaks my imported Dwarven crystalware, I'm sending his tail to the taxidermist. My internal monologue is currently calculating the cost of the wine we're about to pour down their throats. This feast better have a high ROI.
The banquet hall was one of my few aesthetic compromises. It was grand, stone-carved, and smelled faintly of the high-grade incense I'd manifested to mask the lingering scent of "Wet Orc." I settled onto my silk-lined saddle at the head of the table, floating exactly three inches higher than everyone else. Corporate hierarchy is maintained through elevation.
"Sit," I pulse, my voice a cold, resonant frequency that vibrated the wine glasses. "We have provided the finest resources Tempest has to offer. Consider this the 'Introductory Phase' of our partnership. Now, let's talk about Eurazania's exports. I hear your fruit production is unparalleled."
Albis bows gracefully, her serpentine tail coiling around her chair. "Indeed. Lord Carrion believes our nations can achieve much through cooperation. But first, we must confirm the strength of our partners."
Suddenly, Phobio slams his fist onto the table. The wood groans. My pulse spikes.
"I don't care about fruit!" Phobio snarls, his eyes fixed on Milim, then shifting to me. "I want to know how a bunch of low-level monsters and two blobs think they can stand on equal footing with the Animal Kingdom!"
Warning. Magicule buildup detected in Phobio's right arm. He is initiating a physical strike.
"Phobio, don't—" Albis starts, but she's too slow.
[Transaction Domain]
The air in the hall thickens instantly, turning into a heavy, invisible syrup. Phobio's punch, aimed squarely at my obsidian membrane, slows to a crawl as the "Hostile Action Fees" drain his momentum. I don't even ripple.
"Slapping the auditor during a closing meeting is a breach of contract," I pulse, my voice dropping an octave. "And since you've threatened my physical integrity, I'm applying a 500% surcharge on your patience."
[Law Manipulation – Copy]
Acquiring [Beast-Skin Hardening: Leopard Variant]... Success. Note: Physical defense laws integrated. Soul Capacity usage: 44%. Warning: Nearing 50% threshold for stabilization of non-slime biological traits.
I feel my membrane tighten, a layer of phantom-fur and predatory resilience weaving into my internal lattice. I am becoming less of a slime and more of a multi-species composite. The strain is a dull ache in my core, a constant reminder that I am carrying too much data.
"Shinji, wait!" Rimuru shouts, but Milim is faster.
She doesn't use a skill. She just stands up. The shockwave of her movement alone sends Phobio flying through the stone wall and into the courtyard outside.
"He's annoying!" Milim chirps, her eyes glowing pink. "Can I break him now? Just a little bit?"
"Milim, no!" Rimuru wobbles over to the hole in the wall.
I float toward Albis, who is looking at me with a mixture of terror and newfound respect.
"Your associate just cost us three thousand gold pieces in masonry repairs," I pulse. "I trust Lord Carrion has the liquid assets to cover the damages? Or shall we discuss a labor-indenture program for your knights?"
Albis swallows hard, looking at the crater Phobio left in the courtyard. "We... we will cover the costs. My apologies for his... lack of vision."
"Good," I reply, my obsidian surface shimmering. "Now, let's get back to the fruit. I'm particularly interested in your citrus yields."
Current Magicule Reserves: 79.5%. Location: Banquet Hall. Status: Diplomatic incident averted. Soul Capacity: 44%. Note: The 'Animal Kingdom' has been successfully intimidated.
Chapter End.