Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken (LN) - Volume 14 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Rewards and Evolutions

The day after I revived approximately seven hundred thousand imperial soldiers and officers, we had our troops who played an active role in the defense of Tempest lined up in rows across the coliseum. The rank-and-file soldiers had filled every available seat in the house.

Today, we were holding a victory celebration. We were still at war with the Empire, technically, but we planned this as a necessary tool for boosting morale. Bacchus, dispatched from the Crusaders, and the overcomers serving Luminus were also in attendance. Jiwu had killed them, but fortunately, everything took place inside the labyrinth. They had all been properly revived, and they were kind enough to accept our apologies. “It’s our lack of experience,” they told me, but—you know—this crime was committed on our land, after all. We could at least treat them well.

Anyway, I’m just happy the damage was kept to a minimum. We had a deluxe feast planned for the second half of the celebration, so hopefully they’d indulge to their hearts’ content.

We also had a few guests from abroad in the VIP seating. That included Alvis, who joined the defense, as well as Phobio and the Twin Wings who arrived after, elite troops in tow.

“Lady Milim is restless and worried, so Lady Frey sent us to assist you.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure she had anything to worry about. We were convinced you’d win all along, Sir Rimuru.”

Lucia, the blond Twin Wing, and Claire, the silver-haired one, gave me their reassurance in the most sonorous of voices. I guess I made Milim worry for me, but the news of our victory ought to set her straight again. Our city was safe, thanks to Veldora and Ramiris, and I was sure things would be pretty peaceful soon.

“I was sent over as a contact,” Phobio told me. “The magical calls weren’t coming through anymore, so I was dispatched just in case. And also… No, pardon me.”

The way he put it, he would go back at once and bring reinforcements if things were looking bleak for us. As the fastest member of their group, Phobio was selected for the job, based on the possibility that magic wouldn’t be an option due to magicule disruption. He was about to say something after that but stopped midsentence. The way he was looking at Alvis bothered me, but I decided to ignore it. I figured it was already finished business.

I thanked the three of them and showed them to their box seats.

After that, there was another group—guests from Dwargon. I saw Jaine there, arch-wizard of the Dwargon royal court. Dolph, captain of the Pegasus Knights, was serving as her bodyguard.

Jaine, for the most part, used me as her personal complaint board. “No forbidden spell casting in the Forest of Jura,” she told me—but she was even angrier about me having Primal Demons under my wing. To be honest, I did have my regrets about that, but what could I do now? They just kinda showed up when I wasn’t paying attention. They call that a force majeure in insurance contracts, don’t they?

“No, it’s not merely a force majeure! I’ve lived for quite a long time, I’ll have you know, but I’ve never been so shocked and dismayed in my entire life!”

“I’m sorry.”

I had no choice but to apologize. I appeased her as best I could, explained my side of the story, and after enough cajoling, she seemed to be a bit more satisfied.

It would’ve been nice if Jaine could’ve left like that, but we needed to have a meeting to discuss the future. In fact, that seemed to be the purpose of her visit. Sixty thousand troops were still deployed in front of Dwargon’s eastern city, all under Yuuki’s command. I told her that I had a tentative war alliance with Yuuki, and that was why war hadn’t broken out over there. Tensions were still running high, though, so we couldn’t leave things like this. Basically, I wanted to discuss matters with Yuuki and figure out a future course of action. We’d released the captured Laplace, entrusting him with a message from me, and now we were just waiting for Yuuki to contact us.

So I took Jaine and Dolph to the VIP seats as well, inviting them to celebrate our victory with us.

It was thus an international audience watching the proceedings that day in the coliseum. I was seated on a chair placed atop a raised podium, in slime form. Behind me were Rigurd and Rigur, the rest of our civil servants lined up behind them on both sides.

Among the columns below me were the Ten Dungeon Marvels, people who normally wouldn’t be seen in public. They were the stars of the day, though, so their presence was perfectly natural. Showing off the labyrinth bosses to the world normally wouldn’t be a great idea, but today, at least, it was fine—there were no civilians in the audience, after all, or adventurers from our Volunteer Army.

The first one to speak was Shuna, who was standing next to me. She gave a long, impassioned speech, explicitly stating beforehand that these were my words. It was a great performance, but I didn’t write any of it—that was all Shuna. In a way, she’s a much more effective secretary than either of my actual ones. I’m terrible with this speech stuff, and she’s been a huge help on that front. Shion’s not really suited for public speaking, and I’d be anxious leaving that job to Diablo—he’d just talk about how great I was from start to finish.

As I internally thanked Shuna for her presence, I thought over our next steps. During this event, I wanted to announce our achievements and, as I did, give out rewards to my people. In other words, I was going to try “awakening” (or whatever it turned out to be) my staff.

………

……

…

According to Raphael, granting someone a hundred thousand souls would “awaken” and evolve them, granting them strength equivalent to a “true” demon lord. Only those qualified would be eligible for this, but much to my surprise, twelve total candidates fit the bill: Ranga, Benimaru, Shion, Gabil, Geld, Diablo, Testarossa, Ultima, Carrera, Kumara, Zegion, and Adalmann. Only those connected enough with me on the soul level to obtain a demon lord “seed” were allowed; that was the condition.

The one who piqued my interest the most is undoubtedly Adalmann. He’s the only one I didn’t name myself. Why does he have the right to an evolution?

Understood. The subject Adalmann’s faith in you has surpassed the level required to establish a firm connection with you.

Oh, right. I taught Adalmann the “secret skills of faith and favor” I learned from Luminus, didn’t I? Thanks to that, we’ve built a connection that rivals the kind we’d have after a naming. That’s just amazing. It’s like he’d qualified for it all on his own, thanks to the unbelievable amount of faith he possessed. It’s a little awkward how all that faith was aimed at me, but I have to admire him for it.

So that makes sense. But the next question was: How many of these people can be evolved? Based on a quick count, I had a little over a million souls stored inside me. That didn’t quite match the number of people who died, but Raphael explained the reason why.

Proposal. The obtained souls were found to have a range of individual variances. Do you want to redistribute and reconstruct them to be uniform?

Yes

No

I thought yes without really understanding, and the next thing I knew, the total number ballooned to just over a million. The resurrected imperial soldiers would have a small amount of energy returned to them, so I’d figured the number would shrink a bit, but it actually grew instead. Some of them (like Caligulio) had been awakened themselves, and a lot of other really strong dudes stormed the labyrinth as well. People like that had much more energy than usual—and although I was technically borrowing it, I also took a ton of energy from Jiwu and Bernie, what with the ultimate skills they had and all. Each one of them had the energy of between several dozen and several tens of thousands of souls in their bodies.

So between this, that, and the other thing, I had enough souls to awaken ten people. But I had a few points of concern for this experiment.

The first was word of this leaking out. Was it really safe to do something so show-offy in front of guests like Alvis and Jaine? But I decided to trust them on this regardless—not because we were all part of an alliance, but because I knew they’d find out anyway. It was utterly impossible to fool Milim, and King Gazel had already put his trust in me with Diablo. Jaine was already pissed off enough at me, so it was kinda too late to keep her from learning about the labyrinth gang. I was sure the labyrinth-running community would start spreading rumors about how unnaturally strong the bosses had gotten before long anyway. No point, I thought, in concealing anything from anyone in this coliseum.

Next up was the uncertainty factor. This was the first time I had ever tried an awakening on someone else; there was always a chance something unexpected would occur. Thus, harnessing Ramiris’s powers, I had the entire coliseum blocked off from the rest of the city. That should prevent any damage from spreading to the outside world, no matter what happens—and it’d also maintain confidentiality, so we’d really be killing two birds with one stone.

The last concern of mine was the Harvest Festival that’d likely occur to each target, much like the one triggered by my demon lord awakening. In my case, it put me in a catatonic state for three days straight. If something similar happened to them, it’d mean the majority of our main leadership would take a days-long nap in the middle of a war. They’d be totally off the grid for a few days, and if something went haywire, it’d certainly suck for us.

But despite stewing over it for a while, I decided this wouldn’t be a big problem, either. There was zero imperial army left—nobody in the Armored Division, according to what Caligulio and his officers told us, that could mobilize at a moment’s notice. We did just kill nine hundred and forty thousand of their soldiers and officers, after all, so I kinda doubted there’d be anyone left.

The Empire had nothing but their Magical Beast and Composite Divisions to wage war with. We had an alliance (more or less) with Yuuki’s Composite Division, and right now the Magical Beast Division was being transported in a wholly different direction by the Flying Combat Corps, the pride and joy of the Armored Division.

My Eye of God skill was more than enough to keep track of those airships, and we calculated that even if they suddenly changed direction, it’d still take more than three days to reach our country. They had a normal cruising speed of around two hundred and fifty miles an hour; they could allegedly break the sound barrier at maximum combat speed—but only for a short period of time due to the comical amounts of magic force it consumed. We weren’t even sure they could stay in the air for the long stretches of time it’d require without resupplying.

These airships ran incomparably faster than ships or trains, but being in the air brings its own threats. You may run into surprise turbulence or points where the magicules are too disturbed to access magic at all. Some areas were also home to monsters who patrolled the skies, so the safest route wasn’t necessarily the straightest one every time. The fact that supersonic flight was possible in this world at all was a huge threat, but perhaps it wasn’t as advantageous as you might think. I didn’t see much need for alarm there.

That just left the possibility that the Imperial Guardians would go on the move. We whipped their asses this time, but only because we had the advantage of fighting on our home turf in the labyrinth. We could revive anyone who died in battle, which let us handle any situation with the utmost calmness.

If I was fighting the Guardians, I figured I could find a way to win. So would Benimaru, probably, at the end of the day. But what about Shion or Ranga? Wouldn’t it be pretty iffy for Gabil or Geld? If so, we’d need to address that as soon as possible. That way, even if they unexpectedly encountered a powerful enemy, they’d at least be able to buy the rest of us some time. We all had soul connections—in the form of soul corridors, to be exact—so they had a solid link with me still. No matter the situation, we’d always be able to Thought Communicate with each other. They could contact me as soon as they made an encounter, and then we could stage a pincer attack to kill off the threat.

Either way, I wanted to awaken everyone immediately, in preparation for what was to come. Every possibility, I thought, needed to be addressed. And this was the best time possible to do it.

………

……

…

So not to hurry things, but let’s get started.

My first nominee, it goes without saying, was Benimaru. As our commander-in-chief, he had done an excellent job leading all our forces. He didn’t look too happy about what Testarossa and the other demons got up to, but hey—every war comes with its unforeseen developments. It certainly wasn’t his fault—and it definitely wasn’t mine! It all worked out fine in the end, besides, and I think everyone involved did amazing.

After ending her speech, Shuna called Benimaru’s name. He took a step forward and kneeled down in front of me.

“Very good! Now, Benimaru. I am ready to grant you a reward right now—”

“I don’t even want to know what this is. You’re scheming something again, aren’t you?”

What the heck? I haven’t even done anything yet, and he’s on to me.

This whole awakening thing was actually meant to be a surprise. I knew I’d field objections if I brought it up with certain people, so I decided to carry this out without telling any of them. We continued talking as Shuna read out all of Benimaru’s glorious war achievements.

“Well, y’know, I actually won a lot of souls in this war. I guess Testarossa and her gang have been offering them to me, and it looks like I can use them to awaken those closely connected to me enough.”

“I heard nothing about this.”

“Hey, I’m telling you now, right?”

We looked each other in the eye. He totally would’ve turned it down—I’m sure of it. Benimaru’s a lot more serious-minded than you’d think, and he’s got a serious drive to become stronger on his own, I guess. He even seemed to have some thoughts about my own evolution to demon lord. I’m sure Diablo and Shion couldn’t wait to snap this reward up.

“So what is this awakening?”

That was a good question. In my case, it boosted my magicule count and magic power tenfold, as well as gave blessings to all the monsters in the lineage of my own soul. I couldn’t say how much he’d grow from it, but I was sure it’d be a pretty big bump.

“Um, well, to put it simply, I evolved when I became a demon lord, right? Think of it as kinda the same thing. You’d have a demon lord–type evolution.”

“What?! So it’ll change not only me, but all who serve me?”

“I think so. Probably.”

It was unclear to me just how much of an impact it’d have, but I’d bet it’d have its effects on Team Kurenai, at least.

“Oh, no, no, no, I can’t accept something so important happening to me without any warning—”

“Hold on, hold on. Okay. If you put it like that, then maybe you’re right, but now’s not the time to argue about it. We can’t be sure how strong our enemy’s going to be right now, so we gotta do everything we can to strengthen our forces, right?”

“I’m sure you’re right, but…”

Benimaru closed his eyes, troubled. Then he opened them again, looked at me, and heaved a long, heavy sigh. I guess he made up his mind—that or gave up, but same difference.

“But it’s not just me being awakened, is it? I think a paring down of our forces right now is dangerous, but what are your thoughts on that?”

“There are twelve people who’re qualified for this, but I’m only gonna do nine at this time. I’m gonna leave the demons to guard things, so I decided that a few days off-line won’t be a big problem.”

“I see. That—and we have the labyrinth. Perhaps they could buy enough time for us, at least.”

That approach convinced Benimaru well enough. Next was the issue of things going out of hand on me.

“There is one thing bothering me still, however.”

“What is that?”

“Right now, you’re stronger now than I was when I evolved. I don’t know exactly how strong you’ll get through this process. You might even wind up stronger than me, you know.”

If he did, I think it’d still feed back to me through the Food Chain feature of my ultimate skill Belzebuth… But regardless, the possibility is there. Plus, like, there’s no way Diablo won’t wind up stronger than me. I don’t think Benimaru and his kin will betray me, but I can’t deny the possibility that the sheer onrush of power could sweep them beyond control. I think they’ll be fine, and I set up this isolation chamber around the coliseum just in case, but there is still that anxiety in my mind, yeah.

“So even with that concern, you still want to go ahead with our awakening?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Well, I certainly feel loved anyway. You’re pulling out all the stops to ensure no enemy could ever defeat us, is that it? I’ll do whatever it takes to live up to those expectations, then.”

I don’t know if it’ll be true for everyone, but Benimaru, at least, understood my thoughts. He was all but assuring me that he’d never let himself go berserk with power. I’m glad I can count on him.

“I’ll trust you on that.”

“By all means.”

Shuna chose that moment to end her rambling speech. It was time for the award ceremony.

“Benimaru! Your command in this battle was truly outstanding! From this moment forward, you may style yourself as the Flare Lord!”

“Yes, my lord! Thank you for this glorious honor!”

The ritual was underway.

Benimaru is usually a pretty friendly guy, but in front of his soldiers, he’s a high-ranking officer of the corps. He’s perfect at separating public and private affairs like that.

I had just granted him the title of Flare Lord. I meant that as kind of a stand-in for “demon lord,” just in case he actually did become a true demon lord like me. The “flare” part was meant to indicate intense fury. He may seem to keep his cool now (despite his more short-tempered past), but he’s still got that flame burning deep down as his essence. It’s just that he’s able to control it—bring it down to a casual campfire, if needed. As a sort-of demon lord in my service, I couldn’t think of a more appropriate title.

Question. Do you wish to use the prescribed amount of one hundred thousand souls to evolve the subject Benimaru?

Yes

No

That’s a yes.

As soon as I gave the word, a soul corridor was created between Benimaru and me—not the thin, wirelike link from before, but a solid, hefty industrial cable of sorts. Through it, a hundred thousand souls coursed over to Benimaru—and with them, the evolution began…

…or didn’t.

Nothing happened. Oh, great. Did I mess this up? I wondered for a moment before a thoughtful-looking Benimaru spoke to me.

“It would appear one more condition needs to be fulfilled.”

“How so?”

“Oh, er, not you, Sir Rimuru. The problem seems to be on my end…”

He sounded oddly hesitant. Huh? Something’s weird.

“What kinda problem?” I asked in a whisper. The answer came like a ton of bricks.

“Well, actually, I heard the ‘voice of the world’ just now, and it told me that I can evolve from an oni to a god-ogre—but if I do, I won’t be able to father any children.”

As Benimaru put it, becoming a god-ogre meant having a de facto infinite life span, so there was no need to have offspring at that point. Which…I guess is true? The oni race is pretty long-lived as it is, so if we’re talking the next level after that, I suppose having no natural life span at all is logical. God-ogres must be a kind of spiritual life-form, then. It doesn’t sound like demons have children, either, so I suppose that’s what happens if your natural life suddenly stretches on forever. You can come back from the dead anytime you want, so it’s not like you have to worry about preserving the species.

“Okay, so what’s the problem with that?”

Sadly for me, I’m in the same boat—I can’t have any children. Not that it’s much of a problem or inconvenience for me, but…

“…Well, it seems I have some lingering desires from back when I was still a mere ogre. I had forgotten all about it, but apparently I need to finish up my duty as the chief of our tribe.”

“And does that ‘duty’ mean you have to have kids, or else you can’t evolve?”

“Y…es. I sort of have to make sure there’s a generation after mine…”

Benimaru and I exchanged stares. We were right in the middle of this celebration, you know; couldn’t this wait until later? To the audience, I must’ve looked like I was congratulating Benimaru; but if I didn’t do something fast, everyone was gonna realize there was a problem.

I gave him another look, panicking a little. Then Benimaru awkwardly turned away. That was a rarity for him. He’s usually so fearless. It was quite moving to see, in a sense.

“Well, Benimaru, you need to figure this out, okay?”

“No, but…?”

“Right,” I said, raising my voice as I ignored Benimaru’s attempt at an excuse. “So you want to get married as your reward? Who did you wanna get married to?”

“Whoa! Sir Rimuru?!”

At times like these, it was best to show off my more manly side—I was treating this as if it were someone else’s problem. With all the arrangements I’d made for this day, Benimaru just needed to firm up his resolve and get over himself. It was a rough way of doing it, but it was a must for handling someone as reluctant as he was.

…Report. This behavior might lead to him strangling you.

Huh?

Raphael wasn’t giving me many answers. I mean, c’mon, it’s fine, isn’t it?

As I told myself that, the coliseum erupted in cheers. I supposed the audience picked up on my voice enough to know what I was saying.

“So you’ve finally made up your mind, have you?” Shuna chuckled.

“Well?” Hakuro asked, hand on sword. “Who are you going to choose as your bride?”

Before Benimaru could begin to answer the question, Momiji stood up—along with Alvis in her VIP box.

“Sir Rimuru! Permission to speak, please!”

“And for me as well, I hope? I have the same request as Lady Momiji!”

The emotional force from them both was palpable. I was starting to think this was getting out of hand.

“Okay, okay, okay. Will you two come over here for me, please?”

We were in the middle of this event, but there was no helping that now. The soldiers in the seats were now witnesses to an entirely different kind of ceremony. Nobody was complaining—in fact, if I interrupted this right now, they’d probably all howl about it. So I let the two women say their piece.

“My lord, I would like to ask for permission to marry Sir Benimaru as a reward for his services.”

Momiji was the first to speak, and she was certainly swinging for the fences. Hakuro wasn’t far behind her.

“Sir Rimuru, a reward is something that must be given by someone else. It’s not polite to simply ask for one. However, with that in mind, I hope you do my daughter a favor and grant her request.”

He was willing, as he explained to me, to give up his own military decoration if it’d help Momiji realize her dreams.

This was an arrangement far too difficult for me to refuse by this point. Benimaru was frozen in place, unable to keep up with us. He’s normally a man of very good judgment, but I got the feeling he was having trouble thinking straight.

Then someone else spoke up to make things even more confusing.

“Rimuru, my lord, please allow me to state my candidacy for the position of Sir Benimaru’s second wife.”

“What?!” Benimaru and I both exclaimed at Alvis’s offer. She and Momiji were in a heated battle over Benimaru, that much was for certain. “Love on the battlefield,” as it was famously referred to around Tempest—but since when had they come to this kinda truce over it?

“Okay, so…Momiji would be his ‘first wife,’ and Alvis, you’ll be the second?”

“Yes, my lord!”

“That is correct.”

Their faces couldn’t have looked happier. Benimaru, meanwhile, was about ready to faint. I wasn’t really sure what happened with these two women, but it seemed they’d established a clear pecking order.

“I would be a failure as a wife if I did anything to trouble Sir Benimaru. I will never ask him to choose between Alvis or me. Instead, we beg you—please marry us both simultaneously.”

“Wait, um, I can’t—”

“Don’t worry. I’ve discussed this thoroughly with Lady Momiji, and we’ve come to the conclusion that someone of your ability, Sir Benimaru, would not have difficulty with this arrangement.”

Uh, what kind of conclusion is that?

Benimaru looked my way, pleading for help.

Y’know, this is just as perplexing for me, too. I’m not sure if I can do much—

Understood. Under current Jura-Tempest Federation law, polygamy is permitted for the purpose of providing sufficient offspring for a species. However, the law as it stands restricts any additional marriage partners to widows seeking to bear children. In this particular case, a second wife would not be allowed.

Ohhh!

Right, yeah, I remember that. No clue why Raphael’s such an eager participant in this nonsense, but now I figured I could lend Benimaru a hand.

“…Sadly, Alvis, in our nation, a woman can become someone’s second wife only if they are widowed and seek to bear children. Now, there’s a chance we’ll change the rules once we make more progress on our legal infrastructure, but for now, we can’t allow you to—”

I tried to sound as apologetic as possible as I dismissed Alvis’s request. Benimaru nodded to me, visibly relieved, but any hopes that this would end the topic were quickly dashed.

“No need to worry about that, my lord. I’ve been doing some research of my own into the rules, and in fact, I just got married the other day…”

Huh? What do you mean you got married the other day? Like, with who? And doesn’t that make it even more impossible to marry Benimaru?

That was what I thought, but Alvis then blew my mind once more.

“…but I regret to tell you that my betrothed has recently passed. Thus, I have fulfilled the conditions required to become Sir Benimaru’s second wife.”

Huh?

Wait, wait—this wasn’t because of the war, was it? Because if so, we’ve got big problems… But Alvis’s argument was so deviously clever, protesting at all began to seem silly to me.

“H-hang on a second, okay? C-can you tell me who you married, exactly?”

“That would be Phobio in the VIP box over there,” Alvis said with a smile.

…

Um, Phobio’s alive, isn’t he?

Benimaru and I looked at each other, incredibly confused.

“What’s up with all this?”

“I don’t have any more answers than you!”

“True…”

We didn’t even need Thought Communication. It took just a few glances to have that conversation.

Phobio carefully approached us, kneeling with a contrite look on his face.

“I’m really sorry about this. Alvis just started talking out of nowhere, and…”

“No, like, you married her? And now you’re dead?”

“Well…about that.”

And so came the big reveal. Between Momiji’s, Alvis’s, and Phobio’s guidance, I finally understood the whole story behind the plan, although it took a few moments.

To put it simply, Momiji and Alvis had engaged in combat with each other so often that they had developed a kind of friendship. Thanks to that, instead of fighting each other, they decided to team up. They both had a common goal, after all—so how could they arrange it so they were both Benimaru’s wife?

After racking their brains on the topic, they concluded the answer was to have Alvis marry Phobio. Then, after that, the wedded couple would go down to the labyrinth and battle to the death. Alvis emerged victorious, and now she was a widow—but since it was all down in the Dungeon, Phobio was instantly resurrected.

“She said we could marry for real if I beat her, but…I think I deserve to have a cry about this, don’t you?”

That was the motive for Phobio to play along, huh? Seeing him slumped over like this was so sad to see that I couldn’t help but sympathize with him. Like, what does happen after this, then?

“Rigurd, is this, uh, legal?”

“My lord, this is clearly the theory of power in action, the result of combining your wisdom and strength to gain what you want. As far as I’m concerned, it’s completely on the up-and-up!”

It is. And Rugurd, Regurd, and Rogurd were all nodding along with him. Seriously? I guess that, for monsters, what Alvis did was perfectly acceptable.

“You see, my brother, just how much determination Lady Momiji and Lady Alvis have shown for you? Please, be a man and give them an answer!”

Shuna was all for it, too, then? And not just her.

“If you hate her, say it. If you don’t want this attention, say so. That’s all you need to do, isn’t it? So why all the agonizing?”

Shion may have looked like she wasn’t using her head, but this was actually a very good argument. She wasn’t opposed to the arrangement at all; she was just urging him for an answer.

No opposition so far, then—nobody feels this is unethical or gross. And yeah, when it comes to monsters, survival of the fittest is the name of the game. The laws I’ve set in place are mainly there to ensure the strongest of us don’t hog all our resources. As long as everyone’s on the same page, and nobody’s complaining, I don’t see why I should object.

“Benimaru, how long are you going to stew over this? If you keep acting all indecisive, your father in the afterlife’s gonna laugh at you.”

“Soei… You say that, but my father loved none but my mother, and they brought Shuna and me into the world. What’s so wrong about me wanting to do the same?!”

He was unusually agitated. Soei’s observation must have hit home… But he wasn’t giving an inch.

“I am not saying it’s wrong. You seem to be lost over who you love, but that’s exactly why you should have children, isn’t it? A man and a woman can’t have a child if they don’t love each other. If you didn’t have any love for either of them, then simply tell them no from the start. But if you do have any sort of feelings for them…then take them and show us the results!”

That’s awfully straightforward of you, Soei. Surprisingly close to harassment, actually—but he looked so cool saying it, too. The guy drives me nuts.

But this argument also made sense to monsters. I had forgotten about this, but you couldn’t really have a child if there was no love involved. I guessed Benimaru was at an impasse because he felt it’d be unfaithful to love two people at the same time—but choosing only one would make the other sad. That was why he had put off giving an answer all this time. I certainly don’t mind that kind of thinking. But if he followed Soei’s advice and “showed some results,” wouldn’t that solve his problems?

“Alvis! Let’s see who can conceive Sir Benimaru’s child first!”

“You won’t beat me on that, Lady Momiji. My love is real—all I have to do is turn Sir Benimaru’s heart toward me!”

I thought that’d be the hardest part… But either way, they didn’t seem to be worried about much. It was just a matter of how Benimaru felt.

“Benimaru, we’re in the middle of a national celebration right now. A place where we’re meant to honor your military service, too. You’re allowed to be as selfish as you want, all right? So please give me a sincere answer. Will you answer to the love of Momiji and Alvis or not? Which is it?”

If Benimaru says no, this conversation is over. But if not…

“Momiji… Alvis… As the samurai guarding Sir Rimuru, I may not be able to stay close to you for all time. If that becomes the case, will you still choose me?”

Benimaru was nothing if not sincere. He was even showing concern for their future. If he became a father and had no lingering regrets in life, he would evolve into a god-ogre—and once that happened and he gained de facto infinite life, would he be in any position to care for Momiji and Alvis? That was a good point. He was the only one doing the evolving, so his wives would be left behind…in assorted ways.

It’d be kinda mean to ask for an immediate answer in a situation like this, wouldn’t it? It was a little hard for me to picture it, but I sure wouldn’t want my loved ones passing on before I did. And I don’t mean anyone in particular—that applies to all my friends. So I could understand Benimaru’s concern, and I thought Momiji and Alvis might be upset by it—but my fears were unfounded.

“That’s not a problem at all! Once I raise our child, I’ll find my own way to evolve as well.”

“I agree. And even if evolution is not possible for me, I know that my children will comfort you in your loss.”

Wow. Strong women. Totally unfazed in their sheer determination. And when Benimaru heard this, he flashed a breezy smile.

“Sir Rimuru! Will you allow me to take two wives, then?”

There was no way I could say no here, nor was I about to. Maybe I was setting a precedent I’d live to regret, but if people saw it as me making special exceptions in exchange for exemplary military performance, maybe it’d give them some more drive and motivation to work harder. So fine, then. Benimaru may pretend to be all gruff and unflappable, but he’s actually very pure of heart. If I hadn’t stepped in, he probably would’ve been single for all eternity, so let’s just see this as the right opportunity at the right time. If there’s anything I’m worried about, it’s the job he faces loving both Momiji and Alvis at the same time… But let’s just have faith that Benimaru can juggle that.

Right. Time to give him some final words of encouragement. I hopped off my chair, transformed into a person, and raised my voice high.

“It is granted! By my name, I hereby authorize the soul union between Benimaru, Momiji, and Alvis!”

For monsters, “marriage” is treated as a union of souls. And that’s more than just a metaphor—remember, you can’t have a child without love. That’s why I thought the new coinage here was appropriate.

Hearing my words, a smile erupted over Benimaru’s face. It was tinged with joy, his cheeks bright red—but he still stood tall as he hugged Momiji and Alvis.

“I thank you. And I promise you that I will demonstrate my full sincerity in loving them both!”

The majestic words from Benimaru made tears of joy flow from Momiji’s and Alvis’s eyes. They were so overcome with emotion that they seemed to be at a loss for words. Honestly, I envy Benimaru. A beautiful young girl on one side, a more mature beauty on the other—like having a flower for each hand. But as much of a late bloomer as he is at this stuff, I’m sure he’ll have a lot of adversity to overcome in his future. Of course, I’m not really one to comment. I’m asexual and genderless at this point, so it’s no skin off my nose…

The coliseum burst into applause at Benimaru’s promise. Shuna happily congratulated her brother, and Shion was clapping proudly for reasons only she knew. I could hear some jealousy and resentment among the cheering from the crowd, but it just showed how much everyone cared for him.

And so Momiji, Alvis, and Benimaru celebrated their new union in the midst of raucous cheering in the coliseum. I’d like to move right on to the party phase, but we’re still in the middle of an event here, and I want to get the evolution rituals done with first. For now, we’ll keep it to just that announcement. Once this evolution event masquerading as a victory celebration is over, we’ll have more time to hold Benimaru’s wedding in an unhurried fashion. There’s another party scheduled for later today, but—hey—the more excitement, the merrier.

So allowing the happy trio to return to their posts, I ordered Shuna to make the necessary arrangements for them, raising a hand to quiet down the incessant cheering. It was a very unexpected turn of events. I could see Gobwa breaking down in tears out of the corner of my eye (and Phobio consoling her for some reason), but there was no time to think about that. Let’s keep this thing going.

Back in my slime form, I settled down on my chair. Once I was up there, Shuna’s dignified voice echoed across the coliseum, the atmosphere still electric.

“Our three great commanders, please step forward!”

These referred to the commanders of our First, Second, and Third Army Corps—in other words, Gobta, Geld, and Gabil. All three were kneeling before me.

Let’s kick things off with Gobta. He was looking right at me, face expectant.

“A-hem! Gobta, I will grant you no reward!”

“Huhhh? Aw, what the hey? That’s so mean! Why’d ya call me up, then?”

“A fine question! I may not have a reward for you, but instead, I’m going to give you a new privilege.”

“A privilege?”

All the souls in the world wouldn’t evolve Gobta. He might have been a bundle of budding talent, but he didn’t qualify for this prize, and I couldn’t help that. I considered granting him some weapons or armor, but I didn’t think he’d be capable of handling anything more than what I already gave him. Besides, he and Ranga could already transform into that combo beast, so I didn’t think he needed any kind of half-assed armor anyway.

And forget about a cash reward—not like he’d use it for anything worthwhile. He already took in a fat paycheck as an army commander; I gave him a ton of points each month that he could trade in for money, so I was sure he was living comfortably. If this was a human kingdom, I’d probably be assigning him territory and making him an earl or something, but Tempest didn’t really work on that system. It wasn’t like he had any kind of governance skill regardless, so it was pointless to think about.

So I decided to grant Gobta a special privilege instead. The concept was hard for Gobta to wrap his head around; calling it just a “privilege” was probably too vague to understand. Let’s give him the answer.

“I hereby grant you the privilege of continuing to address me as you do now, in your casual tone of voice!”

I grinned at the puzzled Gobta as I spoke. And before he could understand what I’d just told him, a cheer—or maybe more like angry shouting—rang out even louder than the one for Benimaru. It was sheer jealousy, and there was no way to hide it. Even Shion and Shuna were giving Gobta terrifying gazes. I couldn’t even guess how envious they were.

“Um… You serious, sir?”

“Like, you don’t even know how to talk all fancy, do you? You’d royally screw it up if you tried, so I’m taking this opportunity to make it your formal right instead.”

I can sense that Gobta respects me, of course, but that’s not at all prevalent in his tone of voice. I mean, I always tell people that they can be as casual as they’d like with me, but it seems to be difficult for a lot of people. Meanwhile, we’d frequently receive complaints from dignitaries about how flip Gobta’s more natural speaking style was. People wanted me to do something about it, I was told, because otherwise it’d make everyone else look bad.

It was turning into a big hassle, so I decided to grant him the “right” to speak that way. We had foreign guests like Phobio and Jaine in the audience, so I figured taking this chance to spread the word would help solve the Gobta problem. I’m sure things like appearances and authority are big problems for some people, but as monsters, we never have anything as rigid as that. I just do what I wanna do. It’s what’s on the inside that counts, not the outside, and Gobta’s a great example of that. He may sound like a little punk, but his loyalty is the real thing. I could see it in his eyes—eyes that’re fully willing to die for me. That’s why I gave him this “privilege.”

“Thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!”

With a huge smile, Gobta stood up and bowed until he was forming a right angle with his body. He was clearly overjoyed—maybe he had been working on correcting his tone, although if he was, he failed miserably. In a way, this was the best reward I could give Gobta, and that made me happy, too. He’s such a hard person to shop for.

That took care of Gobta. Next was Geld.

“Now, Geld—from this day forward, you may style yourself as Barrier Lord!”

“I gladly accept the title, my lord! And I, Geld, promise to do my best to live up to that name!”

Good. Strong response there. And as the crowd cheered, I lowered my voice to a whisper.

“And I’m gonna try the same evolution ritual I did with Benimaru on you.”

“What on…?”

It was gonna be a pain in the ass to explain it every time, so I set up a Thought Communication with everybody I intended to grant souls to. Once they were all hooked up, I explained to everyone what evolution entailed for them, not forgetting to use Hasten Thought as well. That way, we could have this important conversation in less than a few seconds of real time.

Once I wrapped that up, Geld answered via Thought Communication.

(I am grateful for the offer, my lord, but I wonder if there are those more qualified than me for it. Carrera, serving as our observer, was far more successful in this war. If she, too, is qualified for this, then by all means, let it be her instead of me…)

Hmm. So he was declining the offer to be awakened? Well, I had no intention of evolving Carrera this time. She did contribute a lot, yeah, but if she was this much of a menace in her current state, I couldn’t have her flying off the handle with even more power. We needed to see how this evolution stuff would unfold at first, and that was why I wanted to evolve more of the old guard for starters, since I trusted they’d be safe with it.

I relayed all that to Geld, but he still seemed a little torn.

(Yes, but me, I don’t know…)

Ah. I guess Geld was also a little anxious about the potential to go berserk after this? Plus, maybe this was his way of expressing his atonement. The orcs’ rampage a while back spread disaster all across the Forest of Jura, and as the leader responsible for that, Geld always placed himself under severe discipline. His eyes were shining with a strong determination, and right now, they were pointed straight at me. So I told him:

(Don’t worry about that, Geld. The Geld they used to call the Orc Disaster might have gone out of control, but even that was for the sake of your friends, wasn’t it?)

I didn’t think he’d go berserk now. If he had that kind of determination, he ought to be able to control whatever power he had at hand. And nobody among us would ever shun Geld for the events of the past by now.

(I know you still feel responsible about it, but I trust in you. And I know you can use your newfound powers to help protect us all!)

Once Geld evolved, his followers would receive blessings as well. That, in turn, would strengthen the defenses of our entire nation. Explaining it this way to him, I noticed Geld’s eyes sparkle even brighter than before.

(…If that is the case, then I will gratefully accept the offer!)

Great; he said yes. That’s the Geld I know. A man who works not just for himself, but for all his compatriots.

By the way, only one other person besides Geld refused the offer at first. It felt like some of them had their qualms, but their expectations for the future outclassed their anxiety. It’s my fault for not checking things with them beforehand, but momentum was important with this, as far as I was concerned. Seeing everyone agree to it greatly relieved me.

So I turned off the Thought Communication and got back into the party groove.

“You have done a great job for me. As a reward, I shall grant you this.”

I signaled to Shuna. She nodded with a smile and handed Geld a set of equipment we prepared in advance. It was an armor-and-shield set, both Legend-class gear picked up from the battle, which I further customized after consulting with Garm. This gear reacted to Geld’s own aura, meaning that only he had the right to handle it; it worked along the same lines as Holy Spirit Armor, something that not even Garm could reproduce.

The difference between Legend- and God-class gear lies in the maturity of the gear itself—in other words, the gear’s skill capacity. The armor evolves over the years, in a variety of ways, and the number of years required depends on the materials used. Add a talented owner to the equation, and that dramatically increases evolution speed as well. Geld’s talents are geared toward defense, so even though this gear is Legend class, I predict that it’d immediately up his defense to the point where it’d rival God class. Plus, as Raphael sees it, there’s a high possibility that the armor will receive additional blessings from Geld’s evolution. If that happens, a God-class ranking would be a shoo-in, and Geld would have some incredible defense boosts.

So Geld reverently accepted his reward, bowing to me.

Question. Do you wish to use the prescribed amount of one hundred thousand souls to evolve the subject Geld?

Yes

No

As I thought yes, I called out to Geld again.

“I have been giving you a great deal of hard work all this time. Now is a good opportunity for you to rest and relax, while envisioning what you want for the future.”

I planned for Geld to continue playing a big role not only in battle, but in the construction of our city. He’s been working incredibly hard this whole time, and he almost never even takes a full day off. He may very well be the hardest worker I know, and I really hope he takes this opportunity to chill out a bit.

“Yes, my lord! I truly appreciate this offer!”

Geld smiled warmly at me. Then he nonchalantly returned to his column, as if fighting off the evolutionary slumber the Harvest Festival would bring to him.

How could he beat away that sleepiness? I have no idea. But as I admired this, I turned to our next contestant: Gabil. He had led the Third Army Corps in a brilliant aerial performance, and as I praised him over it, he looked down at the ground with a meek expression.

“I remain unworthy, my lord. My failures of leadership caused some of my own to be injured… My incompetence truly shames me.”

…Well, in your case, I think you had it coming, didn’t you? Having that bout of magic-resistance training in the middle of a war… I don’t think anyone could ever follow your lead on that one. Or I wouldn’t want them to. Ultima gave me a detailed briefing after it was all over, and really, I was amazed at how stupid he acted. She even advised me to punish him over it. Since when had he become such an experiment-loving bastard like that?

Still, thanks to that, it seemed Gabil and his team had unraveled the secret to Dragon Body, a unique skill among dragonewts. I figured that absolved him from facing the full wrath of my anger.

But enough about all that. I switched over to Thought Communication; it’d be counterproductive if I yelled at him in front of everyone. Better to keep things private.

(So we’ll talk at length about your decision to conduct an experiment in the middle of battle, but Ultima offered me a suggestion. She said she’d teach you more about magicule management.)

(What?!)

(Demons, you know—they say they can control magicules the way you and I breathe air. She said she’ll help you learn some of that, so why don’t you have her teach you a lesson or two?)

Maybe being punished would just make Gabil happy, or maybe having Ultima beat him into shape would be better for him. But hell, I’m sure even Ultima knows how to go easy on people. I figured that running the gauntlet with her a bit would help him reflect on what he did. That was the rationale behind my decision.

(My lord, we are still in our infancy. I, Gabil, could hardly be more grateful for being given this opportunity to grow even further! I will make every effort to ensure we live up to your expectations so that all of us may master Dragon Body!)

I thought he’d be reluctant, but his response was surprisingly positive. Guess he’s ready for it, then.

Looking back, I kinda miss the days back when Gabil got carried away and had his ass whipped by Gobta. His previously birdbrained personality had settled down a lot now; he’s capable of reading the atmosphere around him, and that helps him acquire a certain dignity befitting an experienced warlord. He may still have a lot of work to do, as he said, but he always had the qualities he needed, and between bitter defeats and interacting with Vester and his team, he had gained a depth of thought that he simply didn’t have before.

By this point, I could really depend on him. All the experience he had accumulated had helped him truly grow—and that’s why I could trust him to be worthy of this power.

“I will grant you my power—and with it, you shall awaken as the newly christened Dracolord!”

So I gave Gabil my souls, setting the table for his awakening and evolution. Unlike Geld, the effect was instant and dramatic. His dark-purple scales acquired more of a reddish hue, and a fiery rush of magicules coursed across his body. But Gabil had no trouble at all enduring it, maintaining full consciousness and controlling the newfound force through sheer power of will. This experiment hadn’t been in vain at all—it was bearing real fruit for us.

“Rarrrrrrrh! The power is teeming within me! Thank you, Sir Rimuru! From here on in, I shall call myself the Dracolord—and I will use my powers for my lord and my nation!”

Violent lightning shot out from Gabil’s body, scorching his very flesh. But in an instant, his body healed, rebuilding itself into a stronger form. I guess it worked—and perhaps thanks to me deigning to call him a lord, magnificent horns sprouted from his temples. Pretty brash of him, I thought, but they looked good. It was a truly remarkable evolution, as dignified as it was power bound, and I was happy to accept it.

So Gabil the Dracolord was born.

It was interesting, though, to see how the Harvest Festival’s effects varied from person to person. I immediately fell into a deep sleep against my will, and I could tell Geld was fighting off the same fate right now. But Benimaru still had some extra homework to take care of—and in Gabil’s case, it ran from start to finish in the course of a few seconds.

“Sir Gabil! I feel myself strengthening as well!”

“Yes!”

“And me, too. My lord, you’ve done it again!”

Gleeful voices could be heard across the Third Army Corps columns. They were coming from the hundred-strong members of Team Hiryu. It looked like the lizardmen that comprised the Blue Numbers had received blessings of their own, too. In fact, all three thousand of them had just evolved into dragonewts before my eyes.

Now Team Hiryu had climbed over the wall to a full A rank, gaining enough fighting skill to be rated alongside mid-ranked demons. It was kind of like having Dragon Body permanently activated, and so the ability itself was now decommissioned for them. They had also lost the skill Scalify, which transformed their skin into dragon scale, but in its place was Dragonskin, a new skill.

I’ll let Ultima coach them on controlling their powers, but this new skill really interested me. Basically, it takes in ambient magicules to cover the body in a self-repairing armor. It works on the same principle as the Body Armor skill, but with much more defensive ability. It could regenerate a decent amount of injury as well, which obviated the user from needing any armor at all—nice cost savings there.

What’s more, the skill varied from person to person, its strength improving with the power of the user. Gabil’s Dragonskin skill gave him the protection of a God-class suit of armor, for example, a perfect shield that deflected pretty much anything. They might still have been dragonewts, but their strength was so high, it was no exaggeration to call them a new race entirely. They still looked pretty lizard-y, not human at all… But that was up to their own motivation, so I didn’t really care.

There were a few others I shouldn’t omit, either.

Interestingly enough, Soka and the four dragonewt guards serving under her were also affected by Gabil’s evolution. These dragonewts were already in constant human form, which meant their natural defense wasn’t near that of their peers, but they boasted much greater speed and offensive force. They had the Dragon Body skill, but unlike their friends, they still retained a certain human appearance when it was activated. They could manifest dragon scales and wings when they wanted to, but with Dragon Body, they looked more like dragon-y magic-born than anything. They were the same species as Gabil and the others, but it seemed like they were following a completely different evolutionary path—I wouldn’t be surprised if the next evolution made them a different species entirely.

In terms of strength, Soka’s team was more powerful than Team Hiryu, to the point where you could call them high-level magic-born, and Soka had enough magicule energy to rank up there with an Arch Demon. Just as I expected, they had made a really significant step forward.

Now let’s have them go back in line and get the next lucky winners up onstage.

“Ranga! Hakuro! Testarossa! Ultima! Carrera! Come on up!”

Can’t have Gobta without Ranga. I couldn’t imagine having any close adviser except Hakuro. And the three demonesses I had serving as observers and information officers spoke for themselves.

Upon my command, Ranga crept out from my shadow. Hakuro stepped up as well, a bit zombielike in his shuffling gait. Testarossa was as graceful as ever; Ultima, light and breezy; and Carrera as regal as a queen. All of them ascended the platform and kneeled before me.

Since they were so nicely lined up, I figured I’d give their rewards in order. First, Ranga. He did a hell of a job saving Gobta.

“Ranga, I can see you have mastered fighting in a team with Gobta. I also thank you for offering him your protection.”

“Not at all, my master. I only did what anyone would have done!”

Ha-ha-ha. Cute of him. But I know you’re happy to have me praise you, so stop wagging your tail all over the place, could you?

“From this day forward, you may call yourself Star Lord!”

“Yes, my master!”

He accepted it with an appreciative howl, and then the soul corridor opened between us. His evolution began immediately, just like mine, and the Harvest Festival was promptly underway.

“Gnnnhh… Master…”

“Sleepy? Don’t force it.”

There was no reason to hold back. I put Ranga back in my shadow and let him rest inside. If I had to guess, the other demon wolves would receive their blessings as well—I couldn’t wait to see how the evolution would turn out. Ranga, to his credit, quietly fell asleep in my shadow, not letting the power overtake him.

That made it four down. As of that moment, I didn’t see anything to worry about, but better keep my head up until the end, I supposed.

Next came Hakuro.

“You have performed your role as Gobta’s adviser with an expert hand. I thank you for it.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Gobta has matured magnificently. He will hardly need my help at all before long.”

“No, no, there’s a huge difference between you being present or not. Now, for your reward…”

“One moment, Sir Rimuru. If I may, it’s already more than enough that you’ve heeded my daughter Momiji’s wishes.”

Oh. Right. I did say that, didn’t I? But I wasn’t going to accept that.

(That’s a different matter. I want Benimaru and Momiji to be happy, too, after all. Besides, as her father, I’m sure you have some mixed feelings about Alvis jumping in, don’t you?)

I switched to Thought Communication for this, since it let us talk without taking up much time in front of this audience—really useful stuff.

(I did, yes. But I believe in this young man, Sir Benimaru. And I know, when I look at my daughter’s eyes, that her feelings are true. Thus, I am satisfied.)

(Good, then. I have no doubt he can make them both happy.)

Whether they can have a child, only God knows, but…

(So…)

(Well, give me a sec here. It’s important that I give credit where credit is due, you know? So I asked Kurobe to forge a masterpiece for you. I hope you’ll take it and keep all his labor from going to waste.)

That’s right—I had a newly forged sword from Kurobe for him. Kurobe had been improving his skill by leaps and bounds; the workmanship on this piece is nothing short of excellent, making it a Legend-equivalent work of art. Benimaru’s blade was also at Kurobe’s forge for repairs, by the way. In the previous battle, he wasn’t able to tap his full potential due to the difference in weapon performance he faced, and when Kurobe heard that, he was both crestfallen and eager to reforge the blade. “I’m gonna make it the best blade I can,” he told me, and he’s still holed up in his workshop with it. This particular sword wasn’t quite up to that level, but Kurobe still put a lot of work into it, and I’m sure Hakuro will love it.

(Ahhh, Kurobe did that…? Well, in that case, I will gladly accept it!)

(Great. Feel free to, then!)

Good, good. If he declined it, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. Modesty is a virtue and all that, but really, I think everyone’s being a little too reserved up here. Let’s go on.

“Do not worry, Hakuro. This is something I’ve had prepared exclusively for you. Please do not hesitate to take it!”

“I, Hakuro, accept this with my full heart. I promise not to let your kindness go to waste, Sir Rimuru!”

And so Hakuro accepted the sword.

Next up were my demoness pals.

At first, I wasn’t totally sure what I’d do with them. If adding to their strength was all I thought about, then evolving these three Demon Peers would be my best bet—but as I told Benimaru and Geld, I opted against it for now. I didn’t quite have enough souls for everyone, yes, but more than that, I wasn’t entirely sure I could control them afterward. I really had no idea how strong they’d get, so I had to put any evolution on hold.

These three were on the same rank as Diablo, so for now I decided to evolve Diablo first and see how he did. I had my concerns about Diablo, too, in a much different way… But well, best not to worry about it. The way I saw it, Diablo was head and shoulders above the rest of his kin regardless; it was funny to see the range of strength present among the Primal Demons.

The three demonesses were under my direct control, entrusted to Diablo, and so I decided to consider their evolution once Diablo’s was complete. Of course, I didn’t have enough souls in my collection to evolve all three of them right now. They all seemed to have a good balance going with each other, so evolving one over the other would present some problems, no? It’d be dangerous, I guess you could say. If I didn’t evolve them all at the same time, it could lead to serious trouble.

That was why I didn’t evolve Carrera alone, despite what Geld suggested. Besides, if you looked at magicule counts alone, Carrera was ahead of Diablo on that tally. Giving her more power seemed like too risky of a bet. Uncontrollable power will be the death of her—and of us, maybe. Her nuclear-class Gravity Collapse magic was already too crazy to contemplate—it could even blow people like Geld away if we weren’t careful. Maybe she had it fully under control, but the way she just busted that out without a moment’s hesitation made me more than a little anxious. Safety first, and so on—I figured we could wait and see how things went before making a decision on their evolutions.

“Testarossa, Ultima, Carrera—all three of you have done a tremendous job as information officers. The souls you have collected are also being put to good use today. Perhaps you may not like how I’m using what you’ve collected for other people, but…”

I considered not telling them about the potential for evolution at all, but Testa and her pals really did do a good job collecting those souls. It’d be rude to leave them in the dark, I thought—but they vigorously disagreed.

“What are you talking about, Sir Rimuru?! There’s no way we could ever be unhappy with you!”

“Right! We’re the ones who can’t repay you enough.”

“Both of them speak the truth, my lord. We are already fully satisfied. We have been granted bodies—and even names, for that matter. That has been more than enough to strengthen us.”

All three of them denied any dissatisfaction with my decision. And yes, maybe they are too strong already. All three of them are probably still stronger than the freshly awakened Gabil. I had to agree with them—but they still had a reward coming.

“I’m glad to hear that from you. You make me feel like my heart’s never far away from your minds, and I appreciate it. That’s why I want you to accept the rewards I’ve prepared for you.”

“Rewards?”

“But…”

“Well…can’t say no to that, can we?”

Right? It’d be too much trouble for me if they said no, so I wanted to shut the door on that first thing.

“In recognition of your work, I hereby acknowledge you as full members of my leadership. Your duties will be the same as before, but in times of war, you will be granted partial command authority. I will also grant you new titles.”

Testarossa was the Killer Lord. Ultima, the Pain Lord. Carrera, the Menace Lord. I thought up those titles after consulting with a few people. They might sound pretty harsh, I guess, but it’s exactly what they were up to during this war. As leaders, their role was to focus on combat, so I thought this was a pretty good fit, actually.

“From this day forward, I grant you permission to call yourselves by those titles. And from now on, I expect you to serve as my close confidants, exactly like the old guard!”

“““As you wish!”””

The three of them bowed their heads in unison. I guess they liked their rewards. Good thing they didn’t complain, I thought as they filed back to their column.

Okay. Let’s keep this pace going.

The next people were the groups that performed well for me in the labyrinth. Bovix and Equix were each given a set of new equipment. Gadora was officially promoted to guardian of Floor 60, which meant he was entrusted with the Demon Colossus. Beretta was thus officially retired as head of the Ten Dungeon Marvels, Gadora taking his place.

In addition, I granted Gadora access to the research facilities dotted across the labyrinth. He’d be working on R & D for us going forward, so now felt like a good opportunity to place my full trust in him. He seemed elated at the news, so I guess it was the right reward. If he steals our research data, well, I’ll deal with it then, but I don’t think I have much to worry about. He’s just a friendly old man, hard to dislike, and I hope he’ll do his best as one of us going forward.

That all went without a hitch. Next was the main course. Beretta, the now-retired Dungeon Marvel, and the four Dragon Lords in the labyrinth were not technically working under me. Ramiris was their boss, so I left them out of these proceedings for now.

My attention was currently on “Nine-Head” Kumara, guardian of Floor 90; “Insect Kaiser” Zegion, guardian of Floor 80; “Insect Queen” Apito, floor boss of Floor 79; “Immortal King” Adalmann, guardian of Floor 70; and “Death Paladin” Alberto, advance guardian of Floor 70. A real rogues gallery if I ever saw one. I doubt I had to worry about any of them falling out of control by this point, but let’s evolve them one by one.

First up, Kumara. I was giving her the title of Chimera Lord.

Maybe it was because she had gained her revenge in this battle, but she had a much better developed sense of presence now. It’s funny to think she was my enemy when we first met—you never do know how things will turn out. Clayman might have been controlling her, but she had now defeated Colonel Kanzis, the man behind it all. I was proud of her for that.

I let her in the labyrinth entirely because Ranga told me she was good at cultivating forests. I was advised to let her guard Floor 90, and that’s exactly what I did. If it weren’t for that, she might still have been that little fox kit, for all I know. I’d always recognized that she was a powerful young monster, but not even I imagined she’d become a Dungeon Marvel in such a short time. But maybe it was destined to happen after I named her, though, huh? I’d have to thank Ranga for suggesting that.

Anyway, Kumara was now the master of eight different magical beasts. They were serving as the bosses of Floors 82 through 89, each a Calamity-level threat. Together they were called the Eight Legions, and they looked kind of familiar to me, actually. A few days after I gave her the name Kumara, I decided to check on her during a walk, and Kumara asked me to call her friends by their names, revealing to me this group of adorable little monsters. I had experienced countless failures when it came to naming monsters, so I knew the danger I’d be risking—but all Kumara wanted me to do was call the tail beasts the names she had already given them. I figured that was safe enough, so I casually took the job. (I’m sure it’s clear, of course, that I didn’t say yes just because it was the most darling little girl asking me with her doe eyes and everything. No way.)

And…well, I didn’t think it’d turn out like this. I’m starting to suspect that I really did “name” them, after all. I can tell you that the eight creatures she showed me certainly didn’t fight like that.

Affirmative. Strictly speaking, they are not the same, but rather a similar phenomenon to what existed before. The end result was a strengthening of the bonds between the subject Kumara and her tail beasts.

Ah. I knew it.

I didn’t notice at the time, because those mystic beasts didn’t go into sleep mode or exhibit any other changes, but the moment I saw them in battle, I thought it could’ve been true. Those cute little critters, now incredibly vicious and powerful Legions. Talk about your crazy before-and-after transformations. Everyone was shocked, and so was I. Kumara, after all, technically got not one, but nine names out of me.

Thanks to that, the Eight Legions each built a stronger bond with her. The power that each one gained through absorbing magicules also fed back to Kumara herself, which led to the overall strength we see today. Well, what’s done is done, I guess. Kumara might’ve been defeated in war if all that didn’t happen, so if it all works out in the end, I’m happy.

I poured my souls into Kumara, and she wound up completing her awakening in an instant. The Eight Legions lined up behind her glowed as they merged back into her body. Then nine tails sprouted out of her. Her original one was now a golden color, while the others were a shining silver.

They were all quite beautiful, but the upgrade to Kumara’s beauty was even more impressive. She was so filled out and enchanting that it was hard to imagine her as an immature young girl any longer. The magnetism was greater than ever before. Her long hair had changed from its previous dark brown to a golden color, like stalks of wheat in the sunlight, and it ran down her back with a silky sheen.

Was it her beauty that evolved, mainly? No—she had more magicules now, of course, already surpassing the awakened Gabil. I definitely wasn’t expecting this. Kumara herself could hold her own in combat, for sure, but it was only when she combined with her Eight Legions to go into chimera mode that she reached the apex of her powers.

Conversely, when Kumara becomes stronger, so do her Eight Legions. Since they’re all named, they’re connected to my soul, and they also receive blessings from Kumara’s own evolution… And that, as unfair as it may seem, gets fed back into Kumara, powering her up even more. It was like Kumara monopolized all the power I could give. I sensed some calculated scheming on her part, something very unbecoming of her beauty. That must be why she didn’t get along with the much more right-minded Apito too much.

Still, there’s no way such a rapid evolution couldn’t weigh Kumara down hard. She seemed to be struggling to stay conscious. She was a control risk at this rate, and I didn’t want her overdoing it. “Go back and rest,” I gently ordered her. She looked a little peeved but meekly listened to me.

Chances are she’d go to sleep like Ranga while she got used to her boosted force. Either way, I looked forward to her growth. I mean, she’s already a real looker at this point, but you know what I mean. For now, though, it was back to her guardian realm with her.

The event continued. Zegion and Apito were next, and I wanted to tackle the latter first.

“Apito, you fought a superb battle. That Minitz guy looked like one tough dude, even among the other imperial generals. You demonstrated strength equal to his, and that’s something to be proud of.”

I didn’t really mean for Apito to get as strong as that at first. What I was looking for was honey, and as long as her hives produced enough high-quality goods, I was happy. But here she was, Insect Queen and part of the Ten Dungeon Marvels. Kind of odd, really.

“Don’t be silly. I am not even close to where I want to be. I have lost all my kin, and even then, that was only enough to fight to a draw.”

“No, no, that’s not—”

I was trying to deny it, but when I saw Apito’s smile, I stopped.

“This time, I was unable to seize complete victory. Thus, I do not see myself as worthy of receiving a reward.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“But if I am allowed to make a wish, would you allow the souls of my brethren who died in battle to reside within me once more?”

Hold on, what? She may not want a reward, but this wish seems pretty damn reckless to me! She must have the impression that I’m this omnipotent wonder slime, but she’s wrong. I just don’t see how that could be—

Report. It is possible.

Oh, I can?!

Maybe Raphael’s the omnipotent one around here.

“All right. In that case, I will instill the spirits of the dead within you.”

Apito’s brethren were magical insects we hadn’t gotten around to giving Resurrection Bracelets to. I’m not sure if they had “spirits,” exactly, but it seemed appropriate.

“Thank you kindly. This pleases me greatly.”

Apito didn’t qualify for an evolution, but I figured she’d have a blessing coming her way via Zegion’s. I was planning to ask what she wanted all along, and she seemed happy with this, so I guessed that was the right approach.

Next came Zegion. He was the strongest among the Marvels, so I considered putting him off for now, but I also felt like there wasn’t much need for worry. One look at his calm demeanor told me he didn’t seem to be in any danger of going berserk. It’s just what I would expect from the most powerful member of the labyrinth. Even Raphael acknowledged his unparalleled combat sense, and his magicule count rivaled Benimaru’s. No wonder he was good enough to train under Veldora, learning some wacky fighting moves picked up from manga along the way.

It explained his performance in this past battle, too. Zegion single-handedly defeated the strongest members of the imperial army, hardened soldiers the other Marvels struggled with. Taking them all at once like he did, he’d look like an idiot if he lost… But he crushed them with ease, wasting no time beating even the worst among them. He had definitely proven his might, and really, I think he might be stronger than your average demon lord. Even with my “true demon lord” awakening, I fear he could still beat me if I blew it bad.

And I wanted to awaken this guy…? Suddenly I wasn’t so sure about this. Diablo and his kin couldn’t beat him, either. Too late for that, huh? Maybe I was creating the equivalent of several awakened demon lords here, but there was no point chewing my fingernails over it now.

I had given souls to five people so far, and the evolution ritual was now well underway—in fact, I’d been starting to feel power flow into me, as of a little while ago. My Food Chain skill was feeding the results of the sleeping recipients’ Harvest Festival back to me. It was a massive amount of force, but my body was taking it in without any problem. I guess all this promotion was tapping my reserves.

No problem, then. Momentum is important with this kind of thing, so let’s keep this ball rolling, I say. Don’t fall back now—keep going! And look at it this way—how strong do you think Zegion will turn out? Isn’t that exciting? It was for me anyway. The thing is, remember, that thanks to Food Chain, even if there’s a chance he’d surpass me, I’d always wind up on top in the end.

Hoping that turned out to actually be true, I continued with the ritual, shelving my worries.

“Your strength astounds me. Honestly, I never thought you would attain these heights.”

“It is all thanks to your guidance, Sir Rimuru.”

No, that was Veldora mentoring you…

…Hang on. Raphael was lurking in the shadows with this, too, huh? Maybe Zegion thought that was me all along. Correcting him would take too long to explain, though, so let’s just go with that.

“Enough modesty. It is your unrelenting efforts that brought you this far. I hope you continue to refine your strength for me—and from this day forward, I hereby grant you the title of Mist Lord!”

“Yes, my lord! Nothing could elate me more!”

Zegion was as reticent as ever, but even I could tell how moved and shaken he was by my words. I was just speaking off the cuff, but it must’ve sounded like the gospel to him. He must be applying more of a “worship” filter than I thought—but being adored like this isn’t such a bad thing, is it? And here I thought I was just protecting a rare insect for the future. I guess it’s me being protected all along.

There was nothing predictable about his growth. His talents were off the charts. He was basking in a dense cloud of magicules leaking out from Veldora, and he had a training environment where he could be revived after death. Add to that the best training partner anyone could have, and you couldn’t ask for much more.

But there was no point quibbling over the details behind the process. He was stronger at the end of it, and that’s what mattered. So I granted him my souls. He shook for just a moment, but then his will pushed back the flood of power, bringing it fully under his control. Unlike Gabil, it was pure spirit that tamed it. At this rate, I probably looked pretty gutless for falling asleep for so long. You wouldn’t think this was something you could conquer through sheer willpower or guts or whatever… But now I was seeing examples of exactly that, so there wasn’t much denying it.

So that was Zegion’s evolution, but there was something even more terrifying about it. He had literally willed part of his outer shell to transform into the divine metal of crimson steel. Not only was he demonstrating control over the laws of physics—he had made his exoskeleton into a God-class suit of armor. His own body was a weapon, and in melee combat, I pretty much had to call him the strongest out there. For spiritual life-forms like Zegion, combat strength doesn’t necessarily equate to one’s social status… But there’s no doubting how much of a threat he is. Even now, in the middle of his evolution, it looked like he was already acquiring a litany of other powers. I think we better sit down later and see exactly what all he obtained.

Zegion seemed to be doing a pretty good job suppressing the power coursing into him, but there was no doubting that the Harvest Festival was underway. And as I anticipated, only Apito received any secondary blessings from it. Those two were the only ones I gave aid to by providing my own cell matter, so by definition, Apito is Zegion’s only blood relative.

There were loads of other dangerous species in the labyrinth’s insect floor, of course, but they had been all but wiped out in this battle. We couldn’t resurrect any of them, sadly; we’d just have to wait for them to be naturally replenished. This regrettably included Apito’s closer family… But the souls of all these bugs had just been given to her. I wondered what she was planning to do with them, but it looked like she wanted to use them to strengthen herself. We’ll see the results once her evolution is all said and done.

Apito’s expression wasn’t pained in the slightest as she played her role in this event. She remained wholly calm and dignified, like the queen she was. Just like Zegion, I really had to hand it to her. I felt a little bit cowed, even, as I ordered them back to their positions.

………

……

…

Once this celebration ended, Zegion and Apito both returned to their respective labyrinth lairs and wove themselves cocoons where they could complete their evolutions.

Between the blessing from Zegion and the souls from her kin and the bugs serving under her, Apito took in an enormous amount of energy. It caused her own body to break apart inside the cocoon, reconstructing itself to become stronger and more battle-ready. She was literally reborn, and through the unique skill Motherly Queen that she acquired, she created a total of nine insect-type magic-born, each with multiple insectoid traits of their own.

Motherly Queen was the ability to take in the internal biology of any insects she consumed and re-create them as magic-born. These were the first bricks, so to speak, of the new insect hierarchy that would grow over time—with Apito reigning as their one true queen. She was one of the Dungeon Marvels, but she was also a servant of Zegion’s—and Zegion wasn’t shy with the favors and blessings he gave her. That was more than enough explanation for why Apito went through such an astonishing evolution.

And if Apito evolved this much only through a secondary blessing, it was a given that Zegion would change even further. Although his physical strength was already at the apex of its evolutionary abilities, the amount of magicules in his possession now eclipsed the awakened Clayman’s. But what really stole the spotlight was a certain skill he obtained through his evolution.

Apito’s Motherly Queen was totally a game-breaking skill, something almost sinful in what it accomplished. It was astounding enough, but Zegion’s was on another level. He had acquired the ultimate skill Mephisto, Lord of Illusion, and ultimate is exactly what it was—truly befitting of someone apprenticed to Veldora.

With this power, Zegion was now the undisputed king of the labyrinth. Between that and the insect paradise Apito would soon work to build, the Dungeon now had a king and a queen, and the rule over the realm was absolute.

With those two underway, only Adalmann and his faithful assistant remained among the labyrinth dwellers.

There’s no doubting Adalmann’s intense faith in me, as well as the fact that he’s a bit—okay, a lot—of a freako. Cut from the same cloth as Diablo, I suppose you could say. It’s helped me tap into holy magic, though, so it’s not all bad, but…

It turned out that Adalmann was good friends with old man Gadora all along; they had engaged in assorted research together back in the day. That’s why he was able to craft the extra skill Holy-Evil Inversion, which neatly eliminated the main weak point that he had. I didn’t give it a lot of attention at first, but in a way, this was kind of a genius move. It was a little funny to call him smart despite not having, you know, a brain to think with, but that’s how monsters roll, I suppose.

Of course, some monsters really don’t need a brain—their intellectual makeup resides in their astral or spiritual bodies instead. There are even some supernatural creatures who think with their “hearts,” so to speak, instead of any brain organ. Think of it as kind of like people who’ve gained the Complete Memory skill, such as Shion. All that does is re-create memories, of course, but it opens up the potential for thinking purely with one’s soul and astral body… And once you achieve that, it pretty much releases you from a physical life span and punches your ticket to spiritual livelihood. Once that happens, pretty much no physical attack can deal fatal damage, and if your physical body’s torn apart, you can regenerate it at will. Only certain special attacks, or weapons graded Legend or higher, would be any kind of threat.

Adalmann hadn’t quite reached that point. Wight kings like him are spiritual monsters, yes, but he’s still bound by the yoke of his physical body. His thought processes are all contained within his spiritual body so there’s no such thing as dying of old age for him—but even so, he cannot continue existing with just his soul and astral body. He was this close to becoming a spiritual life-form, but he wasn’t quite immortal yet—that kind of thing.

The same was true for his cohort, Alberto the Death Paladin, not to mention the death dragon they kept on their floor. They were all conscious enough to cover for those weaknesses of theirs while fighting, as well. Adalmann specializes in long-distance magic salvos; he supports Alberto on the front line while also providing magical support of his own. The death dragon is always airborne, dumping attacks from above, and if Alberto ever gets too damaged or fatigued, it would immediately take his place as the tank. This teamwork had become a proven winner for them.

Sadly, their opponent this time was simply too much for them to handle. There’s always someone better than you out there, I suppose. If you’re enough of a fighting master to wield Legend-class gear—Hinata’s Holy Spirit Armor, for one—then you can basically cancel out any attribute-based attack out there, even the “undead” element. Hakuro was capable of that, for example, and I’m sure he’d make masterful use of the Legend-class sword I gave him, greatly boosting his battle abilities.

…So it’s great to have someone like that on our side, but it was our foe who carried a Legend-class blade this time. And not just any old foe—it was the top elites among the Imperial Guardians, the great force the Empire boasted. Alberto’s sword, whether it was a failed experiment from Kurobe or not, was still an excellent, Unique-class piece of work—but it couldn’t hold a candle to a Legend. Alberto was only able to hold his own with an inferior weapon because he was the more skillful fighter. His sword shattered on him in the end, sealing their defeat, but it’d simply be wrong to blame him for that loss. If anything, he deserved praise for putting up such a good fight.

“I’m sure you felt the result was disappointing, but all of you fought brilliantly nonetheless. That goes especially for you, Alberto. Your swordsmanship knows no peer.”

“It awes me to hear that, my lord.”

“You as well, Adalmann. The next thing I knew, you’ve fully mastered the magic I taught you. I think we could all learn a thing or two from your unflagging diligence.”

I may not look it, but I hate lifting a finger when I don’t have to. I only dive into subjects that I have a personal interest in. But since he has a reliable, intelligent partner in Raphael overseeing matters instead of me, I’m sure Adalmann’s hard work will prove incredibly valuable to us all.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly portray my wisdom as anywhere close to yours, Sir Rimuru.”

Not my wisdom. Raphael’s. Not that I’m gonna point that out.

“No need for modesty, Adalmann. Now, I will grant you yet more power. I hope you will take the needed lessons from this defeat and grow even more for me!”

“Your kind generosity for a defeated servant like me only drives me to strive ever harder! I will work myself to the bone for you, Sir Rimuru!”

He was tearfully choking out the words. I wish he wouldn’t phrase it that way.

However, Adalmann was also the other awardee here today who turned down my offer at evolution when I mentioned it to him.

“My lord, unlike everyone else here, I am a defeated man, something I cannot forgive myself for. Someone as incompetent as me, potentially reaching the same level of awakening as you… Perhaps, when I am given another opportunity and achieve greater successes than now, I will be better able to accept this lofty honor!”

That’s how he put it, but I managed to coax and push him into it anyway.

I mean, honestly, I didn’t expect much of anything from him in the first place. Back when Shinji’s party stormed their way up to Floor 60, I all but expected the Adalmann trio to go down hard. But now they’ve far surpassed my expectations. They were just a poor match for Krishna, their opponent this time around; that was all there was to it.

So partly as encouragement to keep him from working himself “to the bone” and so on, I tapped some of my soul supply for Adalmann. It wasn’t what we had planned for at all, but the labyrinth was going to remain our final stronghold for a while to come. It’s important to shore up its defenses, and Adalmann’s evolution was an important part of that.

The labyrinth contained all our vital R & D facilities, and we could even quarantine the entire capital inside it during emergencies. I never even imagined what a boon it’d be when I invited Ramiris to stay with us. I saw her labyrinth as a personal sandbox, but now it was our most formidable fortress. That was all thanks to Ramiris—and Veldora as well. I made a mental note to express my gratitude to them later on as I addressed Adalmann.

“I know you feel that your performance was below your standards, but you have my utmost esteem nonetheless. I hope you’ll prove that I was right with your future efforts!”

“Yes, my lord! I promise I will live up to your lofty expectations!”

So Adalmann’s evolution began. He proved to be no exception—an irresistible drowsiness soon descended upon him. I didn’t want him suffering thanks to me, so let’s keep this evolution ritual going.

“I’ll take your word on that, indeed. From this day forward, you may call yourself the Gehenna Lord. May you keep striving to live up to that title!”

“Absolutely, my lord…”

Whew. It’s hard to sound all dignified like that for extended periods of time. And I should add, it’s hard to come up with titles like this. I was up all night pondering over them. I mean, I don’t need to sleep, so I was more bored than anything, but…

…Anyway, I decided to give Adalmann the title of lord, which was quickly beginning to signify the top rank within my hierarchy. We might see more lords in the future, but for now, Adalmann was one of only twelve to be awarded that rank. It made him one of the most powerful military figures in the world, and I’m sure it’d give Adalmann more of a voice in Tempest affairs…assuming I ever gave him the chance to speak up.

Now, Adalmann was hardly the only top performer here. Alberto was still kneeling by Adalmann, who was now visibly fighting his desire to sleep. Behind him, the death dragon was hunched over, trying to make its huge frame as small as possible. They’d both received blessings from their boss’s evolution, so casual conversation probably wasn’t their first priority.

So I decided to grant Alberto some new battle gear to replace his broken sword. He already had overwhelming sword skills, so with the right weapon in hand, that’d easily be doubled. And while I was at it, I thought, why not give him some of Kurobe’s best work to date?

…But then I reconsidered. Among the spoils of war we seized from the enemy were a small cache of Legend-class gear. Caligulio, their enemy’s top general, even had some God-class items—extremely rare in the best of situations. It’d be a waste to just hang that stuff up in a museum somewhere. I tried palming it off on Kurobe, but he said he didn’t need it, claiming that “I can create my own God-class gear by now, sir!” And he was right. Benimaru’s own blade was about to be reforged by Kurobe’s hands to God-class tier. That much I was assured of, so I decided not to foist this gear on him, after all.

So who’s the right recipient here? As Caligulio made clear enough, merely being awakened didn’t make you truly worthy of God-class gear. Once you reached that level, the equipment chose the owner, not the other way around—I didn’t need a fancy analysis to see that. Something gets called God class, I feel, when after many years, the magisteel inside it evolves into crimson steel and assumes a sort of spiritual existence as a tool—a concept called tsukumogami in Japanese. This means the owner has to be worthy of the item in order to wield it, I imagine, and that’s just not gonna happen within a human being’s life span.

Here, meanwhile, we had a noble soul that had become undead, exposed to endless hardship, and still never lost his skills as an acolyte. Now Alberto was a Death Paladin, and for him the concept of a life span was meaningless. He had been applying himself, studying hard and acquiring sword skills that rivaled Hakuro’s. Maybe he’d be the right person for this weapon? I thought so anyway.

Besides, everyone else in my entourage already had their preferred weapons on hand. Some of them even refused to carry anything not made in Kurobe’s forge, such was the trust they had in him. Diablo and the three demonesses, meanwhile, could use the skill Create Material to manifest whatever gear they wanted. The results performed in proportion with the skill of the owner, and for the demons, they could easily surpass Legend-level protection. They had zero need to carry any preexisting armor around.

Some people, like Shion, liked pouring magic power into their weapon all the time, out of sheer love. Maybe that’s why the longsword Shion preferred had now evolved into Goriki-maru Version 2, with Legend-class murdering capability, without me even really noticing. Her sword did break, didn’t it? I’m pretty sure I saw it get cut in half in the battle against Razel, but now it was good as new. Just like Shion herself, the blade had risen from the ashes like a phoenix.

It was more exasperating than surprising, if you ask me. That—and scary. And they say Shion puts a lot of love into her cooking, too, but if so, what the hell does her “love” consist of, exactly?! Whatever it was, it could resurrect a shattered sword. Did I really want to consume a meal chock-full of that stuff?

This was turning into a dangerous train of thought. Time to get back to business. Now that I knew owner compatibility was a big issue with battle gear, I decided that I didn’t need to give my top brass anything new for the time being. That was a good enough reason in itself, but Raphael was the one who convinced me in the end, assuring me that Alberto was the best person to receive this God-class blade. I nodded, not questioning its judgment one bit, and decided to go ahead with it.

So Alberto would be rewarded with a complete set of God-class gear—a full suit of armor, with a longsword and kite shield thrown in.

“Alberto, your swordsmanship is among the best in the world. In recognition of this, I grant you this battle gear. Please maintain your world-class skill as you continue to shine in the service of Adalmann!”

“Yes, my lord!”

At my cue, Shuna stepped up pushing a wagon with all the gear piled on it. Alberto watched her hand it over to him, visibly shaking with anxiety.

“This… This is…”

He must have noticed the caliber of this stuff at first glance. The astonishment was clear in his quivering voice. I can’t blame him—there are only a few known examples of this sort of stuff in existence, making them quite literally the gifts of the gods. Being able to handle gear like this is among the highest honors a knight could receive in this world.

“Do you think you can use this gear?”

I’m not about to take no for an answer. Sensing the pressure from my gaze, Alberto drummed up his fortitude.

“Of course, Sir Rimuru! And I swear I will live up to your dreams…!”

His voice echoed through the coliseum, and I was glad he was so over the moon over it.

The moment he touched the God-class armor, it naturally wrapped itself all around his body. It had no problem accepting him as its new master, apparently. But I did make one miscalculation. Once it gained this true master, the armor’s capabilities wildly exceeded anything that I was expecting.

As long as Alberto wielded this gear, he essentially functioned as an incarnated spiritual life-form. That was the true power of God-class equipment—its ability to temporarily upgrade a being with physical form into one with spiritual form instead. And a spiritual life-form is, in so many words, a godlike existence, like Veldora and, well, me, I guess. It doesn’t really feel that way, but I’m definitely quite close to immortality. I know I won’t age anyway, and it seemed pretty likely that I’d never die—not unless I lost my magicules or experienced a core break in my heart.

In other words, spiritual life-forms experienced no natural death, were immune to all kinds of status ailments, and could overcome death itself through sheer power of will. That ability to raise people to the same level as such wondrous supernatural beings was enough to convince anyone that God-class gear was truly extraordinary.

At the same time, I could understand why Raphael recommended Alberto. Benimaru will be evolving into a spiritual life-form on his own, and Ranga and Shion are kind of following in his footsteps, so I’m sure it’ll happen to them, too. I didn’t think Gabil and Geld were quite there yet, and giving them God-class gear wouldn’t change that. Alberto truly was the right man for this stuff, in the right place at the right time—and that was that.

And I can’t forget about Adalmann’s pet dragon, either. His death dragon put in a killer effort, too, so I definitely wanted to award it somehow. I pondered over what to give, but it wasn’t long before I had the perfect answer—a name. No better way to make a monster overjoyed than naming it, right? This would come with some danger normally, but I have Raphael with me. I’m sure he’ll keep me safe and regulate the magicule flow and all that.

Proposal. In this case, there is already a bond between the subject Adalmann and the death dragon. Rather than creating a soul corridor here, I recommend consuming souls for the purpose of naming it.

Hmm?

That’s an unexpected suggestion from Raphael, but if I opt for that, how many souls are we talking about?

Understood. Five thousand. Proceed?

Yes

No

If it’s around five thousand, that does sound like a much safer approach. Raphael had apparently analyzed my souls on hand and figured out a way to convert them into magicules via Belzebuth, Lord of Gluttony. It was guaranteed not to be dangerous at all, I was told, so how about we go with that?

I stood in front of the death dragon, patting its head. It appeared to be pretty nervous about this. Scary-looking, for sure, but still awfully cute.

“I have a reward for you, too, okay? From this day forward, your name is Venti, Dragon Lord of the Underworld!”

The souls were consumed, and the naming was completed. After that, several dramatic changes took place. The gigantic body of the death dragon, well over twenty yards long, began to shrink, and shrink, and shrink, until what I saw before me was a beautiful woman wearing a dark robe.

Uh, who’s this? I thought for a moment. But I didn’t let it faze me. With monsters, anything goes, really. That’s something I’ve experienced more than I care to admit, and what I’ve learned as a result is that panic will get me nowhere. I did my best not to show my agitation, maintaining an “of course this would happen” attitude as best I could. I think I did a good job, too.

“Ah, my most beloved of beautiful gods! I am awed at the blessings you have bestowed upon my lowly body!”

Oh, sure, yeah. Of course you could talk just fine. Also, I just gave you a name, okay? Any blessings you received came from Adalmann, not me. I think we’re seeing a mix of effects here, but let’s keep that straight, all right?

“Ohhh, how wonderful for you, Death—er, Venti!”

“Yes, Master. Our god has not forsaken me after all!”

“Indeed. Our faith has been duly rewarded.”

“It has!”

What a beautiful master-servant relationship. I felt like I was being left in the dust, but hey, good for them.

And so Adalmann and his servants had all received their gifts.

Consuming souls to name monsters is actually pretty darn convenient, isn’t it? If you go around naming Dragon Lord–class creatures, there’s really no telling how many magicules that’ll consume. Even with Raphael overseeing things, I don’t have infinite magicules, you know.

Belzebuth had helped me gradually stockpile more and more magicules, but I used nearly the whole supply naming Testarossa and the other demons. I could have tapped Veldora for some assistance, but I don’t think he’d like doing that too much, and getting him to change his mood about something requires monumental effort. That’s best kept as a last resort, I thought.

I also didn’t want myself inadvertently going into sleep mode after an impromptu naming binge. I was running on a much higher baseline of magicules now, and I had no idea how long I’d need to recover from being tapped out. We were still at war here, and this was one dangerous gamble I absolutely had to step away from. With this approach, though, I was home free.

Now, on this topic, I had given a lot of thought about how to reward Ramiris. But how about leveraging this new discovery a little? In other words, I figured she’d be tickled pink if I named the four Dragon Lords for her. They had no real connection to me, but with this soul-based approach, it’d still work just fine. I really gotta hand it to Raphael for pitching the idea to me—and besides, even after all this evolution, I estimated that I’d still have over twenty thousand souls left over.

It’s thanks to Ramiris that I was able to retain so many in the first place. In fact, she didn’t want any from me at all—“Just take ’em! I ain’t got no use for ’em!” I felt kind of bad about that, so I thought this would be a nice, elegant way of paying it forward. Hope she’s up for the idea. I’ll remember to ask her about it later.

That ended the proceedings for the labyrinth gang. Now this celebration was at its climax—and only two problem children remained. Who, you ask? Well, who else but the toughest nuts of all—Shion and Diablo.

Based on what I had seen so far today, I was convinced nobody was going to go out of control on me. But we can’t let our guards down. This is Shion and Diablo, after all, the worst of the worst. If both went on a rampage at the same time, I couldn’t even imagine the extent of the damage—and with our top defenders all busy evolving right now, too.

Anyway, let’s begin with Shion.

“Shion, I hereby grant you the title of War Lord. Please continue to maintain as much calm decorum as you can, please.”

“Of course! You’ll never find a woman as calm and mature as me!”

Um, who’re you talking about again? Because it sounds like you’re talking about yourself there, or something? Now that’s what I call high self-esteem! I have been impressed with her self-control as of late, but Shion’s still got a lot to learn on that front. Best to take a long-term view.

“I’ll not comment on that, but make sure you keep consulting with your comrades, protect our nation and all who dwell in it, and prevent yourself from going out of control for me.”

With that, I granted Shion her souls.

But… Huh? There was an almost shocking lack of change. Shion looked at me, acting slightly put off. We had a staring contest for a while, but still no sign of transformation. Was that a dud, or what? Boy, is this awkward. Now it’s like I haven’t given her anything, huh? I suddenly had a crisis on my hands. I haven’t prepared anything else for her!

As I was panicking over what to do, something truly unexpected happened. Nothing had changed with Shion, but the members of Team Reborn under her fell to the ground one by one, fast asleep. Then I noticed that a few members of her fan club who styled themselves as her elite guard were rapidly dozing off themselves. It varied from person to person, but it looked like all of them had received blessings from her. Shion seemed completely unaffected. What a strange phenomenon. No point thinking about it too much, though. They’re under her direct control, so I guess that’s the kind of thing that’ll happen. Best to leave that to her.

“Right. Well, Shion, let me know if you sense any abnormalities in your own body.”

“Absolutely! By the way, Sir Rimuru, do you have any special rewards prepared like the one you devised for Gobta?”

Shion fidgeted a bit as she asked. Hmm… I had to empathize with her. I’d conducted her ritual like all the others, but to the audience, it must look like I gave her a fancy new title and nothing else. Some people would be glad enough for that… But with Shion, it’s not like she needed new weapons or whatever, so…

Something like what I gave Gobta, huh?

“Very well. In that case, I’m going to teach you how to make a very special dish!”

“What?! Are you admitting, then, that I am a better cook than Shuna—?”

“Absolutely not!”

How could she ever jump to that conclusion? Shuna, listening on next to her, just rolled her eyes in contempt, although my immediate denial quickly restored her sunny disposition. Shion looked less than pleased with me, but when I whispered into her ear that I’d have an expansion installed in the kitchen, she gave me a happy nod and went back to her column.

Team Reborn, meanwhile, was evolving in very interesting ways. They seemed to be turning into spiritual life-forms, in a sense—but with physical bodies, unlike demons by default. Rather close to demons but still primarily physical in nature—and most importantly, they could still breed and produce offspring. It looked like we had a totally new species on our hands. Death-oni, I guess you could say? Shion’s oni foundation seemed to be emerging more strongly on them than before, with some of them acquiring her body-enhancing extra skill Divine Force. No one was sprouting any horns, though.

Their magicule counts weren’t on the level of Team Hiryu, but given their immortality, it was hard to judge which group was stronger, really. You could’ve said they evolved from hobgoblins, and anyone would’ve believed you. The biological processes of these monsters truly baffled me.

And so, despite Shion herself having surprisingly little to show for it, her evolution ritual came to a close.

And now we were at the bottom of the list. Diablo. My biggest headache.

He had been visibly fidgeting for a while now, looking at me with this expectant smile. Honestly, he’d probably cause more damage if I stopped the event now than if he went into an evolutionary frenzy. If anyone got in his way here, they were as good as dead.

Well, let’s do it.

“Diablo.”

“Yes, Sir Rimuru!”

I had nothing but bad feelings about this.

There’s little doubting that this evolution will make him the most powerful figure in this nation of monsters I’ve constructed. I don’t mean the strongest of my group—I mean stronger than me, no doubt. He claims he can’t beat Zegion, but I’m sure he was giving himself a handicap somewhere. He overpowered Jiwu and Bernie, both formidable foes, at the same time by himself. Zegion’s strength was a surprise to me, but Diablo seemed like he was one step ahead.

In other words, he was already my strongest underling. In fact, if Diablo really put his mind to it, he might even outgun me in his current state. If you compared him to me back just after I awakened, it wasn’t even close. So how was he going to evolve now? I needed to be extremely cautious.

“Diablo, I can think of no title more appropriate for you than Daemon Lord. May you continue to serve as my right-hand man and unite all the demons under our banner!”

Especially those three demonesses.

“Keh-heh-heh-heh-heh… I remain as ever at your service, Sir Rimuru!”

Seriously, Diablo. Please. I nodded and performed the ritual.

And so a new fiend was born…

The evolution was over in an instant, it seemed. I suspected another Shion-type dud at first, but I was wrong. He was just exhibiting perfect control over all energy flows and not letting any changes show at all.

Nice one, Diablo. What a masterpiece. Now he had evolved into one of the strongest beings in the entire world. A bit of it was flowing into me through our newly created soul corridor, and man, what a fright. I now had a vague idea of the upper limits of his power—and given how Benimaru’s and Shion’s evolutions were apparently disappointments, Diablo truly had become my most powerful underling. In fact…well, his magicule count was up there with mine, and considering the skills he’d built up, I feared this was no longer someone I could defeat in battle.

Guess that bad feeling I had was pretty accurate. I expected something like this, though, so I wasn’t wrought out over it.

“Impressive evolution there, Diablo.”

“The compliment is most appreciated, Sir Rimuru.”

So we’re good? His personality was still the same. If he decided to overthrow me right now, it would be pretty funny… And don’t tell anyone, but I would try fighting to keep my position.

But despite the evolution completing itself, Diablo looked like he was trying to acquire some new ability.

“What’re you doing?”

“Ah, well, you see, during the previous battle, I realized the usefulness of ultimate skills, you could say. I was ignoring them before since Guy was bragging up and down to me about them, but now I think I may as well gain one if it’s available to me.”

“Oh, huh…”

What kind of idiot is this? It’s funny how stupid smart people like him can be sometimes. Feels like I’m surrounded by a lot of those types, actually.

“So yes, I thought I’d take this opportunity to learn one so I can brag about it the next time I see him, keh-heh-heh-heh-heh…”

“Uh-huh…”

He hates it when Guy brags to him, but it’s okay for him to brag back?

Well, given his attitude up to now, I could easily imagine how much of an ego he copped with everyone besides me. I didn’t need Raphael to spell that out. But this would be aimed at Guy, not me, so I had nothing to worry about. As long as it wouldn’t come back to haunt me, there was no use fretting over the little things.

So it looked like Diablo’s demeanor remained as rock-solid as always, and at this rate, I didn’t think I needed to worry about a sudden mutiny anytime soon. He had full control over his evolution, even, so there was no reason for me to treat him as anything but the faithful, capable staffer I saw him as before.

Incidentally, as I found out later, Diablo’s blessings were passed on to his second-in-command, Venom, along with the hundred demons under Venom’s direct command. However—and this is just a hunch on my part—I think Diablo found a way to siphon as much energy away from those blessings as possible. I wasn’t sure if such a thing was possible, but if Diablo could do it, I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. Strength, after all, is earned, not given—I’m sure that’s Diablo’s line of thought.

Regardless, Venom was showing some real growth. He had undergone an evolution of his own, becoming a full Demon Peer. He still wasn’t nearly on the level of Testarossa and friends, though, and even compared to Moss and Veyron, I wouldn’t call him all that intimidating. There was no way that someone who had reigned as the strongest for so many years could be defeated by an upstart out of nowhere. Even among Demon Peers, there was a clear ranking in place.

“Well, of course,” Venom told me. “I’m still a newcomer, you know; I haven’t even been living for a century. I hardly even deserve to be compared to them.”

I suppose Venom is something of an uncommon case—a Contemporary-era demon with little experience to his name. Given the unique skill he was born with, however, maybe he was a reincarnate with some crazy story behind his history. He had no memory of his past life, he told me, but would sometimes recall words despite not knowing their meanings. Visiting my nation frequently gave him bouts of déjà vu, apparently. If he was a reincarnate, that certainly would make him something special.

But Venom still knew his place in the world. He had evolved to the same level as Testarossa and her friends, but he wasn’t letting it get to his head, and he didn’t look down on his other colleagues. He knew how much he had evolved, and he had picked up on the gap between himself and the next level. For a demon, experience is far more important than magicule counts.

That was real mature of him, I thought. But he also let me in on a little inside scoop.

“To tell the truth, I did actually challenge Lord Diablo once before—and let me tell you, he made disgustingly clear the difference between us!”

He was all smiles as he recalled it, but man. Bad move there, dude. I’d expect nothing less from Diablo’s closest associate, though. Guess there’s a reason why he likes the guy.

Despite the sheer stupidity of that challenge, it sounds like it turned out to be a good thing. Venom learned from the experience, and he never made the same mistake twice. If he ever did get carried away again, I’m sure Diablo would rub him out anyway. He had no mercy for people too big for their britches, no matter how close they were to him.

Learning from your mistakes is a valuable skill to have. I look forward to seeing how Venom develops.

As for the rest of the blessing receivers—well, to tell the truth, they were still having their bodies formed in our incubation capsules. All one hundred of them were now reborn as Diable Chevaliers. They couldn’t quite match up with Arch Demons, but they were now demonic knights, up there with any other high-level magic-born and capable of killing a Great Demon in one hit.

They were way off the charts, really… But Diablo didn’t really care about them at all. So they remained Venom’s servants. Diablo preferred to keep himself free and mobile, retaining his position directly under me, and that convinced me most of all that he hadn’t changed. No matter how much he evolved and surpassed me, Diablo was still Diablo.

So all my top staff had completed their evolution rituals. I’m glad it went over without any major hiccups.

But the victory celebration wasn’t done yet. I continued to call out to people who distinguished themselves in battle, thanking them for their hard work. Then we moved right on from there to a celebratory feast, although one attended only by those still awake. We’d have to wait until next time to assemble the entire gang, but until then, we enjoyed today’s party well enough.

I was disappointed, however, to find that Jaine and the Twin Wings weren’t joining us. They were quite apologetic but said they had urgent matters to attend to, so they took off in a hurry after the coliseum event ended. Hopefully they’ll be able to chill more with us next time they visit.

Right now, however, I’m more concerned about a couple of people getting belligerent under the influence.

“…Sir Benimaru was out of my league anyway. I knew that all along!!”

“No, no, Lady Gobwa, you’re quite attractive; trust me on that. But look at me! Lady Alvis, the girl of my dreams, takes my hand…and then she freakin’ kills me! That’s beastmen for ya, y’know? They like ’em strong. They want a mate who’s at least as powerful as they are… And if you’re strong enough, you can have as many women as you want. But me, ohhh noooo…”

“Goodness, Sir Phobio, you’re more than strong enough. If I were stronger, I could’ve stepped in between those two ladies, but—”

“Hey, you can drop the ‘sir’ stuff with me. You’re plenty strong yourself, Lady Gobwa. You just had some real stiff competition, is all. Not even I could beat them, y’know? It is what it is.”

“Sir Phobio…er, Phobio. Please, call me Gobwa, then.”

“Sure thing, Gobwa.”

“Phobio…”

Whoa, can you not do this in public, please? I’m mature enough to not cause a scene over this, but this isn’t some private candlelit restaurant, all right?!

Then again, though, two jilted lovers starting to kindle something with each other isn’t such a bad thing, is it? Love works in mysterious ways, and so forth. I’ll let it slide…

And the night passed along happily, the party in full swing.

So our nation had a set of new lords governing it.

Regulations forbade them from calling themselves demon lords, but we now had nine among us who were practically equivalent to awakened demon lords. Add our three Primal Demons to this, and barring some really exceptional events, I think we were capable of dealing with anything that came our way.

Since these twelve people now had lord epithets, I decided to refer to them collectively as the Twelve Lordly Guardians. Some of them were also part of groups like the Big Four and the Ten Dungeon Marvels, but the lord term in their titles took precedence. That’s because, unlike those two other groups, I had no plans to replace these twelve anytime soon. Being a lord, in my realm, is a sort of lifelong appointment, since all of them had eternal life in the first place. In the future, I think it’d be ideal if they eventually stepped away from day-to-day duties and only took up their Lordly roles during wars or emergencies.

We had a lot of other great staff on hand, like Rigurd and Rigur and Gobta and Mjöllmile, but they were all mortal. We needed to strike a clear difference between how we handled permanent posts and jobs that would go through generational changes. It didn’t need to be addressed right this minute, but the time would come soon enough.

The one person on my mind is Gobta. He’s a top leader (despite it all), he’s surprisingly resourceful, and he’s more than reasonably strong in a fight. That transformation team-up with Ranga was a real game changer for him. There was no doubting Ranga’s evolution would power him up a lot, but I was sure Gobta could still keep up with him, too.

He really is unique. Despite being named and evolved, his outward appearance didn’t change at all. He blathered on about how he “evolved in terms of talent and stuff,” but now I’m thinking that might’ve been the truth. And now, with today’s reward, Gobta’s position in Tempest has been set in stone. He had been granted a position closer to me than many other top officeholders, and that wasn’t lost on everyone looking Gobta’s way.

In a surprising way, maybe that was the biggest reward I gave out today. It struck me as pretty funny as I watched all my friends enjoy the party.

And one more thing:

Word of what happened today must’ve spread fast around the world, because somewhere along the line, I had been given the nickname Rimuru the Chaos Creator. This was fine. I decided to go with it. I was fully aware of all the crap I’d been pulling, after all.