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.