Chapter 8, Episode 19: Base Camp and Lunch
By noon, the Undead we had funneled to us through the explosions and terrain had been dealt with, although the process had been fairly time-consuming.
As we’d planned, we then marched into the City of Lost Souls. Now that any Undead in the vicinity of the gates had been wiped out, the ruins were eerily quiet. It was like a ghost town, in the true sense of the phrase. It wouldn’t be quiet for long, though. We expected plenty of Undead to swarm from farther within the city once night fell. Stage two of our plan was to secure a base camp.
The city was formed of concentric circles with the tower at its center. Simple, rectangular cell blocks lined each circle, made asymmetrical by marks of repairs and additions. From a bird’s-eye view, the city might have looked like the surface of a stump, riddled with bug bites and notches.
Circular paths ran alongside the buildings, connected by long, descending stairs that ran from the gate to the tower. The circular wards doubled as fences that made it difficult for prisoners to clear, especially as each level grew higher the closer they got to the exterior. No zombie or skeleton could climb over those structures, at least.
First, I sent the grave slimes—now that their numbers had multiplied—to block off the paths where they met the central stairs. Then, we cleared the buildings nearest to the stairs, taking out any Undead we found inside, and sealed the buildings off with Holy Space.
Lucky for us, the cell blocks all had a simple layout. We had five of them blocked off without a hitch, when my goblins contacted me about the task I’d given them.
“They’re almost ready for the experiment,” I announced.
“Then let’s make this our last block,” Reinbach said. “It’s just about lunchtime, anyway.”
“That would give us three on either side of the stairs. Let’s get it done,” Sever agreed.
“Ready when you are,” Remily said.
“Here we go. Flash Grenade.” I threw a baseball-sized ball of light through an opening in the building where there must have once been a window, and we all ducked below the opening.
I honed in my magical energy detection when a strong flash and short bursts of cries came from the building. I’d modeled this spell after a flash-bang grenade so we could clear out any Undead hidden in the block. This time, a few slippery wraiths had slipped through the walls to avoid the explosion of light.
“Light Ball.” Remily was ready, though, and sniped them with her spell.
Then Sever and Reinbach entered the building and ensured no Undead remained inside. Once we sealed it off with Holy Space to keep other Undead from making their way inside, we’d cleared the building.
“Nice shot,” I said to Remily.
“You weren’t too shabby yourself,” she answered.
“Try not to get carried away with your experiment after lunch,” Sever said. “Our operation will really kick into gear after sundown. We should get some sleep before nightfall.”
We’d already eliminated countless Undead that morning, but it was only a warm-up for tonight. The real show would begin once the sun went down and the Undead became far more active. Our plan, albeit a bit brutish, was to unleash the spell we came up with yesterday to exorcise the entire city at once.
A certain degree of safety would be maintained, and we’d be ready to retreat to yesterday’s base if things became dicey... But no matter what, we’d be most active late tonight. As Sever had said, I should definitely take a nap at some point.
While I ran the night through in my head, we doubled back to the structure closest to the city’s entrance. Sebas was just about done setting the table, preparing for as proper a meal as we could make in this place.
“Welcome back. Lunch will be served soon,” Sebas said.
“Thank you, Mister Sebas. How did they do?” I asked.
“Those goblins are hard workers. They seemed familiar with the task, so it should be set up well for your experiment. While I could not understand what they were talking about exactly, they seemed to be having more fun tilling that field than they did fighting.”
“Most of my goblins are like that,” I admitted.
Even though they’d grown in numbers, my goblins lived to eat, drink, and be entertained. Not that I was complaining. A tamer was responsible for disposing of particularly disobedient familiars. Regardless, I had no explanation for their obsession with food and merriment.
That being said, I decided to finish up my experiment before Sebas finished preparing lunch. “It won’t take long. I’ll be right back,” I called on my way to the building I was using for the experiment.
Every building in this area was structured the same way, with an entrance to the front (towards the center of the circle) and one to the rear. A hallway pretty much split the cell block down the middle, with cells lining either side of the path. There were no walls or partitions save for where thick metal bars must have once separated the cells, but those had likely been salvaged when they moved the prison.
In an indoor space this spacious, it was all too easy to create a field using my slimes. When I approached the field, the still-working goblins gave me a report. Though I didn’t speak their language, I sensed their intentions. It seemed they had wrapped up most of the tasks I’d given them.
To the left of the central divide, large planters (which I’d crafted using Earth magic) each containing a soil slime and a potato lined the floor. On the right, I had crushed the floor with magic and had the goblins fertilize it and plant the potatoes directly in the ground.
“Okay, let’s give it a shot. Get ready for more watering, please,” I told the goblins, and they squealed in confirmation.
Using Wood magic, I encouraged the plants on the left to grow, and that went off without a hitch. The sprouts, leaves, and full-grown potatoes all looked in order.
On the other hand, the potatoes on the right barely reacted to my magic. The spell was working, since small sprouts and leaves peeked out of the ground, but the potatoes dried out before they were edible. Dumping more magical energy into them, I was able to somewhat enlarge the potatoes, but their vines and roots were too thin and their leaves too sickly colored. Worst of all, the potatoes it yielded were way too shriveled to eat.
I tried assessing the potatoes, and read, “Potato afflicted by cursed energy.” Even though I’d expedited the growth of these potatoes with magic, they were grown in soil exposed to cursed energy for years and years, which weakened the potatoes’ growth. What’s worse, food afflicted with cursed energy could cause discomfort, pain, or even death. It was inedible.
“Yeah, these won’t do,” I said aloud, much to the goblins’ disappointment.
Making a mental note to clear out the afflicted potatoes, I tested the better grown potatoes, and...they were definitely edible. The conclusion I drew was that the difference in soil was, indeed, the main cause. The cursed energy in the air was cleared by Holy Space, and the water I used had been produced by Sebas’s magic, so I was practically growing potatoes in a clean room.
“I’ll get rid of the dud potatoes later. Thanks for working on this,” I told the goblins. “I’ll take care of the rest, so you guys can take turns for lunch.”
Squealing in simple joy, my goblins ran off. Just as I turned to pack before lunch, I felt eyes gathered on me.
“It worked,” Reinbach said.
“I’ve only tested one batch. With the right setup, food can be grown with slime magic even in a place like this,” I said. “I’ll continue experimenting after lunch with food we’ll use for dinner. It’s possible that cursed energy would seep into the potted soil over time. Of course, that can most likely be addressed by coating the planters with Light magic... Other people could produce these results too. I’m not sure if it’ll yield enough profit to justify the effort, but I’ll pass it on to Duke Reinhart later,” I said.
“Many villages have been forced to relocate when cursed energy made it impossible for crops to grow. If these results can be reproduced with practice, it will save many people and villages. Grave slimes and your new Dark spell can drastically reduce the danger of hunting Undead too. I see a bright future,” Reinbach said.
“The one drawback of your new spell was that crops had to be burned. Being able to locally grow food means saving the money and manpower spent on delivering rations, and making these operations more efficient,” Sebas chimed in.
As the previous duke and his assistant who’d had experience managing these projects, they both seemed excited by the idea.
“Now that we’ve established that... Is there anything you want, Ryoma?”
“Lord Reinbach, isn’t it a bit too early to discuss payment?” Sebas said.
“Our engineer has earned a reward for merely informing us about the grave slimes. With the right use, they are very helpful in hunting Undead.”
Reinbach’s offer was appreciated, but there was nothing I wanted for the moment. If anything I’d been given way too much already. For example, Reinhart had already guaranteed that I’d be reimbursed—plus a hefty reward—through several payments for any expenses I had over the New Year’s fiasco, and I’d even earned a partial tax exemption now that I was the duke’s engineer. It was almost scary how much my income was snowballing...
After contemplating for a few moments, an idea came to me. “A new laboratory, perhaps. Free access to a place like this would be very useful in researching grave slimes, and I was wondering how I’d feed them when we return.”
“There were more than a thousand by the time we stopped this morning. I was amazed,” Remily said.
Since I was used to slimes multiplying, I was more amazed that the grave slimes had only gone through a portion of the Undead in the city, even after devouring that much.
In any case, feeding numbers of that multitude was a difficult task in and of itself. Slimes wouldn’t die or anything even if they didn’t get food that they liked. They simply ate what was available and evolved into different species. That would have been fine if I didn’t plan to observe the grave slime as a species over a long period of time. A reliable source of Undead would be a great help.
“It won’t be a problem if they can get by with animal meat,” I said.
“But in case they need to feed on the Undead...” Reinbach finished my thought. “There are a few places within our land that are afflicted by cursed energy, so securing one for a new lab won’t be a problem. Reinhart would be pleased that you’d be taking one off his hands. That won’t be an appropriate reward, however. Even if that’s all you want, Ryoma, it’s not a good look for us.”
“Anyone who doesn’t know you will think Reinbach saddled you with another mess to clean up,” Remily said.
“Why don’t you just take cash?” Sever suggested. “What’s the harm?”
“Actually, I’ve been told to spend more money,” I admitted.
My new position came with a hefty salary from the duke, and my businesses had inadvertently grown as a result. Now that I was an engineer, my laundry shop was practically government subsidized.
I even had a budget from the duke for my research (which, of course, was funded by taxes) so I needed to keep my finances an open book if I wanted to avoid giving anyone an opening to accuse me of any fraudulent activity.
“So, I hired a few tax collectors and lawyers who used to work for the duke,” I said.
Back on Earth, fraud and embezzlement were practically an everyday occurrence among government officials, and each of them were crucified by public opinion. And now I could be on the receiving end of that outrage if I didn’t play my cards right. I’d been told that a normal business owner only had to pass the Merchant’s Guild’s annual inspection, but I wanted to be extra careful. As part of my reward from the duke, I’d requested an introduction to those specialists.
“And these tax collectors told you to spend more money,” Remily said.
“Slime farming allows me to grow my own grains and vegetables. Now that I’ve started making alcohol and other products out of my crops, I’m completely self-sustaining when it comes to food... And I can build pretty much anything that I need, so I barely use any money other than my business expenses.”
Last year hadn’t been a problem, apparently, because of those expenses and my tax status. But, they’d advised me to intentionally spend more money this year. Since any taxes I’d pay would only benefit the Jamils, I didn’t mind paying into the system, but...
“Reinhart saw through me,” I said. “Before sending out his tax collector—Mister Stoia—to work for me, the duke told him to stop me from overpaying taxes at any cost, and to make me spend money on myself. Also, he’d informed me that there is such a thing as donating too much to the church, so he put a cap on that.”
Stoia, as perhaps any tax collector should, took his job very seriously. My half-baked loopholes had all been crushed. He also told me that a tax collector’s job was to collect the correct amount from citizens, and overpaying taxes, just as underpaying them, was not acceptable. Besides, now that he worked for me and my shop, his newfound purpose was to maximize the shop’s profits by saving on taxes wherever we could.
I’d wondered if dedicated fans of idols felt the same way I did. Maybe because I was never too well-off on Earth, I really felt no reservation about paying my dues. I had more than enough to do so. My passionate speeches only seemed to tire Stoia, though.
“In the end, he said that I might be the first business owner he’d ever seen who tried to overpay taxes without a hidden agenda to evade greater charges or to bribe the duke.”
“No duh,” Remily said.
“I understand I’m privileged,” I said. “I just don’t have experience with having this much money. Truly, I don’t know what to do with it, other than to start a new business and keep the cycle going.”
“You say you don’t know what to do with your money, but you’re utilizing your capital effectively,” Sever said.
“Starting new businesses and investing for your future is a valid use of money,” Reinbach agreed.
“They’re held together with advice from talented business owners and the hard work of my employees,” I said.
I wouldn’t be where I am today without the help of all those people. On Earth, I couldn’t dream of running multiple businesses like this. Without them, I’d only ever hoard my money too.
“Lunch is served,” Sebas said.
Our operation was only beginning, so I’d gladly enjoy the meal and keep my strength up.
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