Chapter 7, Episode 26: The Pros and Cons of Slime Magic
“I’m accumulating more and more secrets as I continue researching my slimes.” On the other hand, it meant that my research was valuable and useful. And not that anything could be dangerous if misused.
“Speaking of secrets.” Kiriluel turned to Fernobelia. “Didn’t you have something to discuss with Ryoma?”
“You do?”
“Remember how you used sand magic the other day by combining familiar magic with the Synchronize ability of the slime? There’s a few things I wanted to go over with you.”
“You know, it’s really rare to see Fernobelia join in the fun like this, even though we had Serelipta’s thing to deal with,” Kiriluel added.
Fernobelia had something that important to discuss?! If I had known, I would have held off all of my ramblings about my slimes.
“It’s all right. I appreciate your enthusiasm for studying topics of your interest. Sharing your findings is also an important aspect of academia.”
“Thank you.”
I wondered what was there to discuss about my technique? Could it be...
“Before you get your hopes down, I won’t tell you not to use it. There are a few things you should be careful of, but I encourage you to use it as often as possible. Kufo mentioned the reason why you came to this world. I won’t go into detail, but after examining your new technique on our end, we found there’s a chance it improves the magical energy of this world.”
What?!
“While the effect is indirect and minuscule,” Fernobelia continued, “many a mickle makes a muckle, as humans would put it. The accumulation of small efforts is sometimes needed to solve a great problem. We can’t afford to overlook any influence in the right direction.”
I never would have expected that spell to have such a side effect. On a personal level, I used magical energy when I cast spells. But that increased the magical energy on a world level.
“If it piques your interest, you should study it. It only produces this result because of the slimes’ involvement in it.”
“Really?”
Fernobelia affirmed. It didn’t seem like he wanted to withhold information from me but left me room to do my own research and let me continue my hobby of researching slimes. As the god of academia, he must prefer humans to reach their own conclusions, if it can be helped.
“There are three points you must be careful of. Its effect, its uniqueness, and the effect it has on your slimes. As you must have already noticed, your technique allows you to cast more powerful magic and have greater control over it. Combining your large stock of magical energy and a great number of slimes, it has the potential to yield similar results to the calamity magic that once threatened this world.”
“Calamity magic... I’ve never heard of that before, but it sounds less than peaceful.”
“It was just a combination of ordinary, elemental spells. The one who wielded those spells, however, was another traveler from Earth, an ancestor of the duke you’ve befriended.”
“The one who specialized in magic?”
“That’s the one. He created powerful magic with his scientific knowledge and fired it off as he was told, causing massive casualties. It was wartime, after all. Eventually, it came to be called calamity magic out of fear and respect. We considered it impossible for a spell like that to be created again. Certainly not by anyone native to this world, and not even by a traveler unless they also specialized in magic. With you and your slimes, however, I see a possibility of it in your future. It would be helpful for us if you used the spell often, but be careful of the time and place, and your execution. Nothing bigger than the demolition projects you’ve been using them for.”
“Thank you for letting me know.”
Fernobelia nodded and continued, “It’s unique because, more than being a skilled spellcaster, you need clear communication and great compatibility with the slime through familiar magic to make this technique work. Without them, the spell may not be effective or it may even misfire. It’s easy for you and your high compatibility with slimes, Ryoma, but it would be difficult to learn or practically impossible for most others. Like many of your other discoveries, be careful who you pull back the curtains for.”
“Understood.” What I was most curious about was the effect on my slimes.
“The more you use that technique, the more the synchronization skill of your slime will level up. Once it’s at level 10, the slime will become the element it synchronized with and return to nature.”
“You mean...they’ll die?”
“We don’t see it that way. But it is death in the sense that humans are used to. You will lose that familiar.”
This was the worst. In exchange for great power, I would be shortening the life span of my slimes. Everything else, I just had to be careful about sharing my secrets and keeping the effect of the spell contained. Since the spell was improving the magical energy in the world as a whole, I was secretly ready to fire it off every chance I got. But now...
“I do encourage you to use it often, but it will always be your choice.”
“Thank you.”
There was no question as to which was more important—it was my feelings and the lives of a few slimes versus the entire world. The gods had the power to force me if they wanted to, so I appreciated them respecting my free will on this.
At this point, I noticed that the other gods were giving Fernobelia and me the stink eye.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s fine if Ryoma’s good with it, but you’ll have to give him more than that, Fernobelia,” said Kiriluel.
“You’re making things awkward by cherry-picking information,” Tekun joined.
“I understand why you omitted explaining it,” Wilieris said, “and so does Ryoma, but...”
Even Serelipta chimed in, “You’re very kind, Ryoma. Not that I haven’t benefited from that, but you could demand a better explanation.”
“Fernobelia isn’t lying,” Gain finally said. “But using that spell a few times won’t kill your slime. It’s not that dire of an issue.”
“Right. The lack of magical energy is something we have to deal with. If you don’t want to use that spell, that’s completely okay,” Lulutia said.
“Most importantly,” Kufo chimed in, “do you remember how your slime was after using that technique.”
Come to think of it, I had started using that spell as a game. It seemed like the slimes enjoyed it too. “It has a positive effect on the slimes as well?”
“Yes. At the very least, that spell won’t cause the slime any pain. Fernobelia said so too.”
I turned to Fernobelia, and he gave a nod, his stoic expression shaded with the slightest hint of guilt.
“You didn’t want to rob Ryoma of the joy of discovery by giving him too much information. I understand that, but you leaned a little too heavy into the demerits,” Gain said.
In that case, I would put a pin in this issue. I would make sure to use that spell only when needed, keeping a close eye on the synchronization skill of the slimes. I would continue researching slimes to uncover the details Fernobelia was keeping from me... No matter how many decades it would take. I shared my nonspecific direction with the gods.
“That’s the spirit, b’y,” Grimp said. “Ye gots plenty o’ time.”
“Fernobelia...” Serelipta squeezed out before laughter overtook him.
“Your point, Serelipta?” Fernobelia grunted.
“I’ve never seen you be considerate before. And you like Ryoma so much that you want him to be franker with you, but you just can’t bring yourself to say so? You know, they call your type ‘tsundere’ in Japan?”
“What does that even mean? I simply appreciate the attitude to study the powers given to one instead of using them as they’re told. Ryoma isn’t the first to do so. The other traveler, his application of the calamity magic notwithstanding, applied effort and creativity to his spellcraft. I can give fair praise when it’s deserved...”
“I hear tsundere’s more of a girl thing, though.”
“Won’t you ever listen?!” Fernobelia shouted at Serelipta, but he just laughed it off.
“It’s refreshing to see how not only Fernobelia, but everyone else, treats you. They all act a bit differently with you.”
Serelipta’s comment seemed to give the others some pause. I wondered if I dared ask.
“Of course you can ask.” Serelipta grinned, still facedown on the ground. “It’s all relevant to you. Heck, it’s all about you.”
What’s he on about?
“Didn’t you know? Normally, living humans can’t visit the divine realm like you can. Travelers aren’t usually an exception to that. The only way for almost all humans to hear us is the Oracle skill that only a select few who devote their lives to the church have. Even then, they can only hear what we have to say.”
I had heard his explanation before; I was certainly different, even by traveler standards.
“Yes,” Serelipta continued. “Although we have to summon you first, you can come up here in spirit form to speak to us face to face. No one in this world had done that before. None of us have much experience talking to people like this. We don’t need to talk with each other when we can just send what we’re thinking from afar. That’s why we rarely experience a misunderstanding like the one that happened between you and Fernobelia just now. The Oracle skill is usually a one-way path from god to person, by the way.”
“I see... So back when I first came here, that was just a basic rundown you gave me...”
“I’m sure it’s partly due to the difference in how we see the world, but it must have also been because we didn’t know how to convey that information. There are so many things that seem obvious to us, but not to you. It’s so fun to watch them trying to account for that when they communicate with you.”
I wondered what Serelipta thought of the subject.
“Me? I may be a bit different from my normal self... But I treat everyone equally. Do you think I’d ever be considerate with anyone, god or mortal?”
“Man, I really feel like I wasted my breath,” I said. Not a chance that he ever felt a shred of consideration for anyone. The rest of the gods seemed to share my sentiment.
“Aw, you meanie,” Serelipta whined. “Can’t we still be friends?”
“All right, all right, just get off me! You’re...well, not that heavy, I suppose, but still, just get off!” Though he was bizarrely lightweight, it was still a pain in the ass having him clinging to my leg.
“It doesn’t feel right that Serelipta pointed it out, but I suppose we might be acting a bit differently than our usual selves,” Gain said.
“I agree. Come to think of it, we didn’t gather often before Ryoma came along. I can’t remember the last time all nine of us were together.”
“We used to meet up when this world was new.”
“Civilization was still small back then. The world kept on expanding and progressing.”
“We started doing our own things since we could always send each other all the information we need.”
“Even when we got together, not everyone needed to show up.”
“Upon self-reflection, we only met out of necessity.”
“Even when we met up, we never used to just talk over some drinks.”
Maybe this was akin to working from home for too long. Not that I wanted to conflate their divine powers with the technology on Earth...
“It’s very similar,” Gain answered. “In our case, we may not see each other for centuries, or even millennia. Especially one of us who I can’t even remember when we last saw... We need to show a bit of gratitude for Ryoma giving us more opportunities to meet.”
“I didn’t do anything myself, but that’s good to hear.” If they were happy, then so was I. “Was there anything else I wanted to talk about...?” I could talk about slimes for hours, but... “Anything else important? Like, well, you know.”
“Well, we won’t ’ave to warn ya’s too often. I gots plenty to tell ya’s about farmin’ an’ all, but no sense droppin’ all that on ya before ya come round on what we’re discussin’ now. That’s all the input I got fer today, so...” Grimp gestured to the rest of the gods.
“I’ll start,” the voice by my foot said.
“Go on...”
“No need to be so on edge. This was something I discussed with Kiriluel as well.”
“With me? What is this about, Serelipta?”
“Don’t you remember? We’re talking about how Ryoma should train his sixth sense.”
“Sixth sense? I remember you mentioning something like that during your punishment training. Thought you were just trying to buy time for a break.”
So they did really discuss it beforehand. What did they mean by sixth sense?
“You’re pretty brain-heavy,” Kiriluel said.
“Hm? I guess so. I can’t really tell.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” she continued, “depending on the time and place. If you want to explain something, for example, you should make it logical. But sometimes, you just need to take action without working out the logic.”
I agreed, and she further clarified that, while it varied from person to person, there should be a healthy balance between logic and impulse, and I was leaning too heavily into the logic side.
“Serelipta and I agreed that you’re actually more inclined towards impulse, like a sixth sense.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hm. I think your previous life might have conditioned you to be more logical in your thinking,” Serelipta said. “Many people experienced in their craft in this world might rely on their experience or intuition, but logic and data are given more weight on Earth where technology is more advanced. You had no choice but to build a logical thought process in a world like that. Your aversion to interpersonal communication might have made you practice your logical thinking more. In exchange, you can’t take full advantage of your talent.”
“You say that...”
“Remember how you said you messed up the other day?”
“Yeah. When the air in the city and the meeting hall reminded me of how my office felt on Earth.”
“That’s it. If you had been able to grasp that feeling accurately, you might not have gone rogue.”
“I just had a bad feeling. I—”
“Can’t explain it?” Serelipta dramatically pulled himself up to give me a you just don’t get it, do you? look.
I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Stay calm. “I don’t get it. Explain.”
“Oh, all right... ‘Intuition’ and ‘sixth sense’ might sound a bit vague, but I’m not just blowing smoke here. Humans learn and adapt. Most mortal creatures do, of course. Let’s say there’s a dog and its owner. The owner beats the dog with a stick, day after day without reason. How will the dog start to act around its owner?”
Cower or run from its owner, or show animosity and fight back... Something like that. The dog would stop showing affection, at any rate.
“Why’s that?” Serelipta asked.
“Getting beaten hurts, and it might get hurt. Why would the dog want that for itself?”
“Exactly. The dog learns that getting beaten with a stick hurts, and that its owner is the one causing it pain. Like Ryoma said, the dog will then try to get away from the source of its pain or try to get rid of it. Either way, it will act to avoid any danger to its well-being. That’s self-preservation. An instinct that any creature has. And even artisans treasure experience and instinct built from it. Right, Tekun?”
“You could say so. The best blacksmiths adjust their work based on the change in temperature and moisture in the air, on top of the furnace temperature or the color of the fire. Conscious or not, muscle memory can be pretty handy.”
“And Ryoma carries his memories and experiences from his previous life. Now you get it, don’t you?” Serelipta said, and collapsed onto the table.
Now that I thought about it, I acted just like the beaten dog. I felt danger, and tried to eliminate the cause of it. Plus, I could see the merit in Tekun’s insight. “Serelipta...”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t think you were so observant about people...”
“That’s your takeaway?! I’m a god, you know!” His pompous grin faded in a flash.
“Well, you just seemed like such a self-centered god on our first encounter. I’m more surprised than anything.”
“Huuuuuh?”
“But I think I understand what you’re saying.”
“That’s fine, then... Pain and fear are forms of experience in themselves. People call it trauma if it binds and hurts you, but it can also be made into a powerful tool. I think you should work on your intuition, Ryoma. No matter how you handled it, you were able to read the room. You have an inclination for it.”
“All right, I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, just as my surroundings began to glow.
“Good timing,” Gain said.
“I forgot we had a time limit. I feel like we talked more than usual, though.”
“All nine of us called you this time.”
“Apparently, you can stay longer the more of us there are.”
“It’s a good excuse for us to get together. We should do this more often.”
“Are you going straight home after this, Ryoma?” Serelipta asked out of nowhere.
“After I’m back at the church? I think I will. I don’t have any more plans, so I might go home and look into that spell and the synchronizing slimes... Oh.”
“You do have something?”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but I might stop by the orphanage.”
“The one you rebuilt?”
“Right. I asked the kids there to do a little job for me. I’m sure they’re doing fine, but I want to check in on them.”
“Sure, why not?” Serelipta responded as if he hadn’t just asked. On second thought, it was more like...
“Three nights before the end of the year...”
“Huh?”
“Be at the abandoned mines alone. You might find your way.”
“You’re—”
It became brighter around me, signaling the time for my return.
“Buh-bye!”
“Time’s up.”
“See you next time!”
On Serelipta’s lead, everyone bid me farewell as the light swallowed me whole... And I returned to the familiar chapel.
Three nights before the end of the year, be at the abandoned mines alone. You might find your way. Apparently, Serelipta was waiting for a moment to slip me a message without the other gods noticing. I didn’t know what way I was supposed to find, or what Serelipta wanted out of it, but one thing was clear: Serelipta was scheming something again... He never learned his lesson, did he?
I decided it was time to go, when the sister of the church stopped me. “Excuse me, Takebayashi, sir. Can I have a moment of your time?”
“Oh, yes. No problem. What is it?”
“It’s about that soup kitchen you offered to help us with...”
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