By the Grace of the Gods (LN) - Volume 13 - Chapter 6

Chapter 8, Episode 6: New Gear and the Familiars, Part 2

Following my gaze to the goblins, Sever asked me, “Ryoma, I couldn’t help but notice the sets of armor the hobgoblins are wearing. Are those experimental too?” He was watching the hobgoblins move among the regular goblins.

These were more aggressive goblins who stood guard for the other goblins unfit for combat. True to their post, each of them was paying close attention to our surroundings, some swinging their weapons in their air. I had crafted their armor myself, building each part with alchemy. This armor was modeled after the armor worn by the Greatsword Brothers, and I was pretty happy with how it’d turned out.

“Those pieces are prototypes, but they weren’t made by real smiths. More of a deterrent than anything,” I explained.

“Ah, those are the hobgoblins you send out to avoid petty conflict,” Sever recalled. “Hobgoblins of that size walking around in heavy armor and greatswords on their backs are rather intimidating.”

“I used an alloy called duralumin, which is pretty light, especially for its durability. It does rust easily, so I coated each piece with a sticky solution mixed with ash to prevent rusting and make the armor look heavier by suppressing its sheen. And I’ve trained them with basic combat principles, so they come in very handy for hunts too. I may be biased, but they’re not all for show.”

As a general strategy, the goblins were separated into two groups: the larger ones as front row combatants, and the smaller ones as backline support attackers. The backline goblins would fire arrows or magic together, and the front row goblins would deal with any enemies that came close through the onslaught. If I asked the limour birds, they could search for enemies from the sky, and I could construct traps and camps very quickly with the help of slimes. With my Space magic, we could even withdraw from a location quickly and discreetly. Making the first move in the field would make our position even more favorable. It was rudimentary, but gaining the upper hand meant making me and my familiars safer. In the past few months, the goblins alone had taken out more than a few groups of bandits or monsters.

“You utilize them much more like a proper battalion than I thought...” Sever said. “I suppose that makes you the general or a strategist.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d call myself a strategist,” I said. “I do know of one, though—Marble, the genius chicken.”

Marble was the leader—more accurately, the customer service representative—of the clever chickens I had purchased to create a sustainable egg supply. Marble, who hadn’t even turned one year old, somehow kept the flock of silver-spoon-fed clever chickens. One day, I made him a chess set, hoping it would provide him with some much needed escape from the stress of poultry leadership. Not only did Marble learn all the rules immediately, he quickly became much better at the game than I was. Once Marble had taught the rest of the flock how to play chess, the chickens became too engrossed in the game to think of their usual complaints. Sometimes even a conflict between clever chickens could be solved with a game of chess. In the end, Marble was very grateful that his workload had lightened because of chess, but I didn’t feel entirely right about accepting the praise; I hadn’t planned any of that when I’d made him the set.

“I seek out his advice sometimes,” I said. “He’s got good insights.”

“I don’t know about that...” Sever turned to Reinbach. “Are all clever chickens like this?”

“Not many people would think to teach their livestock chess... We’ve always known that clever chickens are intelligent enough to understand our speech, but I have never heard of one that plays chess. But seeing how Ryoma’s do play, it might be possible to teach all clever chickens how to play, with the right method,” Reinbach said after some thought. He added that clever chickens playing chess could become a popular spectacle for the wealthy.

“As a kind of sideshow?” I asked.

“It would draw spectators out of curiosity, but strategic games like chess are a part of education among nobility. It isn’t uncommon to see nobles host tournaments, sponsor talented players, or hire one as a tutor. Those passionate for the game have money to spend on it. If a clever chicken can learn to play, there might one day be a chess tournament for clever chickens—all sponsored and trained by dedicated tamers,” Reinbach said.

“Like racehorses,” I noted.

“Exactly,” Reinbach agreed. “The only difference being the subject of competition: speed or chess.”

“There’s always a demand for competitions like that, though different forms of them fall in and out of fashion. Nobles love to have flashy new things to do. You could make a lot of money with that,” said Remily.

Even on Earth—although they were outlawed in most places now under animal protection laws—there were dogfighting and cockfighting rings...

Isn’t this idea the exact same thing? The word “fighting” makes it sound so barbaric...but “bird chess” just sounds lame. 

Sebas asked, “I am also intrigued by the clever chicken, to be sure—but Master Ryoma, what is that cart the goblins are pulling? It almost looks like a cooking pot on wheels.”

“It’s like a portable oven that makes it easier to cook large quantities outdoors.” When I thought about equipment I wanted for my adventuring, I prototyped a cart inspired by the cooking vehicles that the Self-Defense Forces use...but I didn’t have the proper knowledge to recreate that, so I ended up with basically an old-fashioned baked potato cart, which looked like a wheelbarrow with a chimney sticking out of it. It was a simple structure too—just a gas stove top loaded onto the cart, which was treated to be fire-retardant. But that simplicity made it durable and easy to fix if something broke. It was fueled by methane gas, which the air scavenger slimes exhaled—the main component of natural gas and a small component of cow burps and human farts.

One scavenger slime could only exhale a minute amount, but the emperor scavenger slime exhaled more than enough gas to fuel the cooking cart. Though it did wind up exhaling a lot of extra particles that just stank up the air without fueling anything...

“The machine next to the stovetop eliminates unwanted parts of the gas,” I said, pointing out another simple device that looked like a pneumatic trough from a chemistry lab at a school. The scavenger slime would exhale its blend of stench and methane gas into the tube, and most of the smell would be absorbed into the deodorant slime sitting within the device. The remaining gas would pool in a pocket until it built up enough pressure to escape through another tube containing a filter slime, which would prevent any liquids from escaping the device and filter out most of the rest of the stench. In the end, just the methane gas (with only a very subtle smell) would feed into the stovetop.

“That’s the gist of it,” I said.

“So the slime produces a sort of...earthwyrm breath, and you’re using it,” Sebas said.

“Earthwyrm...? I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is,” I admitted.

“Earthwyrm breath is wind that comes up from the earth. It is highly flammable and toxic. You mostly find it in volcanic areas; legend has it that it’s caused by an earthwyrm hidden underground or in a cave, breathing out into the air,” Sebas explained.

“In that case, you could think of it that way,” I said. “It can be found underground, and it can leak out. It’s also true that it can be dangerous if mishandled.” Even the cooking cart had to be used outdoors, or at least in a place with great ventilation. Besides, I’d made sure the filter slime wouldn’t eliminate the gas’s odor entirely, so we could smell it if it started to leak. “And everything from how much solution is used to deodorize the gas to how fast the gas is fed in is all handled by slimes. There are plenty of improvements to be made, chief among them safety measures. If someone else wanted a cart like mine, it would be a lot safer and easier for them to create something that used a Fire magical item instead of the scavenger slimes. This was all just a pet project.”

The engineering of the cart aside, methane gas itself could be highly dangerous without expert knowledge. I once worked for a gas company and became certified in handling certain equipment, but that was a long time ago. I wasn’t confident that I remembered enough to teach others how to handle the gas properly. At least right now, it was best for me to stick with careful personal use.

“More projects under your belt,” Reinbach remarked.

“At this point, I’m wondering if even your backpack was engineered somehow,” Remily said.

“It was, actually. The same alloy I used in my armor is what I used for the frame—it lightens the pack a lot while still giving it durability. Tying this belt around my waist makes it so I can distribute its weight more efficiently too. If I press this button, it unbuckles the pack right away, so I can ditch the pack quickly if I need to run or fight in a pinch. Rubber from rubber slimes fills the gaps in the frame, so this thing can take a hit. While it won’t fit too much, I have drawers on the bottom that allow me to store small objects or breakables. These drawers can be accessed easily, so I keep my first aid kit in there.”

“Hmm. Can I try it on? And if you have any spare armor, I would like to see it,” Sever said.

“Of course. I have plenty of prototypes with me. Take your time,” I said.

“We would like to see them too,” Reinbach chimed in.

How did I end up like a door-to-door salesman? Oh, well. 

I continued presenting my new prototypes until lunch was served.