To Rimuru, of course, this faith was as excessive as it was stifling. In fact, he had already thought Sorry, guys, but you don’t have a chance and pinned his expectations on the next guardian—but Adalmann didn’t know that, and he was eager to fight.
This time, for sure—and every time after this—defeat was not an option. He had to win—and continue winning. And so Adalmann and his cohorts waited for the foolish intruders who would come at any moment, carefully discussing their strategy as they anticipated what was to come.
An intense battle began…and ended in an instant.
Well, really, I’d like to call it intense, but in fact it was so one-sided that it left my mouth agape. I’d even brought along a deck of cards in case things got boring midway, but I never had to bust them out.
In the end, Adalmann simply dominated. It was a stark, vivid victory, one I could hardly believe I was watching. The challengers were hardly pushovers; they weren’t sick or injured. They were in perfect health and enthusiastic to start fighting…but Adalmann’s team performed above them in every way.
Statistically speaking, this wasn’t a mismatch. I had finished analyzing the challengers’ skills, and they looked stronger than Adalmann. All three of them merited an over-A rank, and each one boasted their own unique skill.
Shingee’s in particular was Restorer, quite a rare one. It granted him control over the structures of tiny viruses, letting him destroy living creatures from the inside. He could even modify the composition of the air around him to create lethal, contagious viral clouds. It was pretty crazy, really. Could any living thing deal with that? Like, unless you could detect these clouds of pathogens you’d need a microscope to see, you had no chance of beating Shingee. That, and he could use this to heal people, too, even more efficiently than medical nanomachines. The all-purpose flexibility Restorer offered was just amazing.
Next, Marc’s power was derived from his unique skill Hurler. It allowed him to throw anything he could hold in his hands like a javelin—really, anything he could lift up, including monsters. Combine it with gravity-control magic, and he’d be more of a threat than nearly any mass-based weapon; I’d say the skill was more suited for effectively taking on entire armies instead of single targets.
Finally, Zhen’s unique skill was a kind of mix of useful tools. The unique skill Observer allowed him to instinctively dodge threats, detect danger and traps, and discover monsters and other presences before they appeared. He could even pick up on Shingee’s viral clouds. All this was combined with Zhen’s own fighting abilities, which made him capable of evading or fleeing just about anything. He was fast, he was nimble, and traps basically didn’t work on him—the mortal enemy of any labyrinth.
That about summed it up. It was a real buffet of sweet-looking skills, and I’d definitely be gaining some inspiration from them. Each one was a huge boon by itself, but they also worked so well with one another—the real key to this trio’s record-making run. I don’t think I could be blamed for assuming they’d steamroll right over Adalmann.
But I was wrong. Turns out Adalmann had spent the past few months getting buff, so to speak.
I mean, normally, a non-sentient monster would never really change in terms of fighting ability from what it’s originally granted. If it could survive several decades or so, you’d see some improvement then, but the process took more than a few years, at least. And then we have Adalmann and Alberto here.
“…Like, what is this? How did these guys get so powerful?!”
And also, what the heck’s up with that dragon?
Peeking into the boss chamber, I spotted Adalmann, Albert…and an evil-looking dragon I had never seen before, nearly forty feet in length and oozing a deadly looking miasma from its mouth. Who the hell dragged that in? Something clearly had been going on while I was out on my international tour.
“Heh-heh-heh! Surprised, aren’tcha? I kinda kept this from you on purpose, but y’know how you gave those guys some new equipment? Well, they really dug that stuff, so they’ve been working extremely hard on their training! And um, you know how high the magicule levels are across the Dungeon, right? Well, they’ve been absorbing some of it, and now Adalmann and Alberto have regained their old powers!”
Ramiris sounded like a guy on a prank video revealing everything to the victim. And—yeah, taking a closer look, Adalmann had evolved from wight to wight king. He was still a skeleton, and his gear was just as gaudy as ever, so I didn’t notice at first, but his magical power was off the charts now. Alberto, meanwhile, had skipped death knight entirely and now was a Death Paladin, a super-high-level monster.
“Wight kings and Death Paladins have magicule levels about even with an Arch Demon, don’t they…?” I said.
“Kwaaah-ha-ha-ha! Look at these meek little underlings, striving so hard to be of aid to us!”
They made evolution sound so easy—and what’s more, they powered up beyond anything I could’ve guessed.
“What about that dragon?”
“Oh, didn’t you know, Rimuru? That’s Adalmann’s pet!” Ramiris announced.
Pet…?
Hmm… Come to think of it, I did remember Adalmann talking about keeping a pet, maybe. I just didn’t expect it to be this wicked-looking dragon. It was, in fact, a death dragon, the alpha predator of the undead-monster hierarchy. Shuna and the rest of the cabinet were familiar with it, apparently, so Ramiris honestly thought I knew as well. That was my fault, I suppose. It’s so important to have everybody on the same page in upper management.
So as for how this battle unfolded… Well, there’s really not much to say. In fact, Adalmann didn’t even move an inch from his throne, and the death dragon stayed ensconced on his left side. Only Alberto stepped forward, and he beat all of them himself. Marc’s Minos Bardiche wasn’t even given the time to strut its stuff—it was stopped in its tracks by the similarly Unique-class Cursed Sword, and Marc was promptly slashed down afterward.
The sight stopped Zhen in his tracks, leaving him open for a moment, and Alberto seized the opportunity. His speed made him almost seem to disappear for a moment as he unleashed upon Zhen, and that by itself spelled the end for him.
This made Shingee mutter “Huh?” in surprise. He scrambled toward Alberto, blasting out a Holy Cannon magic spell. This was a common ability among paladins, but not many civilians had access to it—Shingee didn’t mention any paladin training in his immigration papers, so I imagine it was a hidden last resort for him.
This spell was suited for speed, and it landed a clean, direct hit on Alberto. It seemed like he dodged it for a moment, but maybe Alberto let his guard down—or so I thought. But I had no reason to worry. Alberto simply didn’t move, because he had no need to evade it.
Shingee managed to squeak out an “Oh, come on!” before Alberto swung his sword down upon him. Then it was all over.
But… I mean, Alberto’s still undead, right? Isn’t he weak against the holy attribute? I know I’m not the only one to think that—but Alberto was kept safe, and it was entirely thanks to Adalmann. It turned out to be his previously hidden extra skill, known as Holy-Evil Inversion, at work.
Report. Holy-Evil Inversion is a secret skill crafted by the subject Adalmann. It has the effect of swapping the holy attribute with the evil one and vice versa.
Adalmann used this to change Alberto’s attribute from evil to holy. The effect didn’t extend to his equipment, but since Alberto was undead, there wasn’t any life force for his cursed gear to suck away, so his elemental attribute didn’t matter along those lines. Plus, if an ally applied that skill to him, there was no chance of his body resisting it.
A holy undead? What kind of joke was this? It was unholy, if anything, but Adalmann’s Holy-Evil Inversion made it a reality. And as a spiritual life-form, Adalmann had natural resistances to each kind of elemental attack. Most melee strikes didn’t work on him. As a duo, they had also overcome their weakness against holy attacks. Really, I didn’t see how any normal dungeon-runner team could take them.
So Adalmann won, and without even using any of the magic I taught him. Shingee’s team was defeated in truly anticlimactic fashion, fading into clouds of light before departing the chamber.
“Rimuru, my lord, were you watching us? We dedicate this glorious victory to you!!”
Watching Adalmann shout this dedication at the top of his nonexistent lungs, a thought occurred: Isn’t Adalmann’s gang a little too much force to bust out for Floor 60?
I mean, yeah, I did tell him that if a party approached, he should fight back with a party of his own. He certainly took that advice to heart, and he certainly didn’t try to outnumber his opponent, no. But this is getting pretty close to fraud. Like, come on! If you have a special-A monster, a Calamity-level threat—and three of them at once—you could destroy a lot of the smaller kingdoms out there! And by the looks of things, they still had some other tricks they were hiding, too.
So I decided to interrogate Ramiris about that later. For now, I needed to offer Adalmann my congratulations.
“Well done, Adalmann! Why don’t you come up to the control room? No need to talk through the screen like this.”
“Oh, ohhhh…! Such a joyous honor! I will be by your side posthaste, my lord!”
As stiflingly formal as always. Well, that’s how he is, I suppose.
“And Alberto can talk as well these days, huh? Can you bring him along?”
“Very well. As for my death dragon…?”
“Um, let’s have it keep guard over there, okay?”
“Yes, my lord!”
The death dragon whimpered a bit about that, but I had to stand firm on this. I mean, it’s freakin’ forty feet long. Maybe we could fit him in the special chamber we made for Veldora on Floor 100, but this control room just ain’t that big. I felt kinda bad for the guy, but he’d have to give up on that.
So I ordered Shion to make some tea for Adalmann and Alberto.
“Can he drink it?” she asked. “He’s nothing but bones.”
“…”
Rrrrr…ight. Yeah. Looks like Alberto found a body, kind of, but Adalmann’s still nothing but a skeleton. Maybe he can enjoy the aroma, at least?
“Well, this is… You know. A polite gesture for him.”
“I see. Very well!”
We chatted a bit more as we waited for their arrival.
“We are here, Sir Rimuru!”
“I offer you my sincere gratitude for the honor of personally experiencing your holy visage.”
Adalmann and Alberto both kneeled before me. In person like this instead of through the screen, I realized just how much more powerful they were now—I could hardly believe they were the same people as before.
“Yes. Well done. Alberto was your name, was it? You have proved to be quite an effective fighter. And, Adalmann—you have done an exemplary job as a guardian. Keep up the good work!”
“That’s right! Keep it up!”
Veldora and Ramiris heaped praise on them before I could speak up. If they got to give out all the praise first, I wasn’t too sure what I should follow up with…but let’s just keep it benign.
“Yeah, I tell you… It’s been a while since I’ve seen you guys, so I’m kinda shocked at how much you’ve grown.”
Grown…or I suppose “evolved” is the right term, isn’t it? That trio was pretty strong, so I seriously thought they’d struggle…but no, I better not say that. Sometimes, there are things better thought than stated out loud.
““Yes, my lord!!””
Both of them were visibly moved. I had them sit down, trying to hide my pangs of guilt.
“Truly… Truly a fine aroma,” said Alberto. “If offered by anyone else, I might have taken it as sarcasm, perhaps…”
Oh yeah? Hmm. Shoulda seen that coming. If you can’t drink it, it’s just unfair, isn’t it?
“…but when offered by my lord, I find the scent deeply satisfying for my heart. It has truly rejuvenated my body.”
Well, great, but Shion made it, so…
“…How delicious. Sweet—and fragrant like nectar. I, Alberto, cannot offer enough gratitude for this wondrous moment of bliss.”
Geez, don’t lay it on too much…
I guess Alberto had built a physical body for himself with magicules—a kind of temporary vessel, made possible inside the labyrinth.
“Why don’t you take on a full body as well, Adalmann?” I asked.
“…Pardon me?”
“Well, I mean, then you could enjoy that tea more, so…”
“Y-yes, perhaps, my lord, but in my case… Well, I prefer to project a certain image, you could say…”
Uh-huh. That was kinda over my head, but if it was important to Adalmann, it’s nothing I have a right to comment on.
“Fair. No need to force it, in that case.”
I changed the subject.
“By the way, I was really impressed by how you approached using Holy-Evil Inversion. The fact that you developed it at all shows me how hard you’ve been working.”
“Thank you very much! Sir Beretta provided me with some assistance. And also…”
I asked about Holy-Evil Inversion as a quick way to shift the topic, but this was actually pretty surprising. It turned out that even Luminus lent him a hand.
“Lady Luminus taught me Day-Night Inversion, one of her secret techniques, you see. An ‘apology,’ as she referred to it. Sir Beretta then applied his unique skill Reverser to modify it, and then I was able to master it.”
And there you have it. I suppose Luminus was “apologizing” for letting the Seven Days Clergy act out of line.
Why was Granville trying to kill someone as talented as Adalmann? I had my own reasoning for that. Outside of Granville, the Seven Days Clergy members were all obsessed about keeping their positions safe from threats. They were all trying to eliminate Adalmann, but Granville must’ve reasoned that he’d only be useful if he could overcome the trap they set for him. Instead, Adalmann and that dragon zombie killed each other off—something Granville may not have intended. Maybe his perspective was along the lines of “Well, if you can’t beat an enemy at that level, you’ll never become a guardian of humankind anyway” or the like. Seeing Granville’s final moments—supremely proud but all alone in life—I couldn’t help but think that.
Still, it wouldn’t be right to bring it up with Adalmann. It’s something I’d like him to realize himself someday—but for now, time for another subject change.
“Well, that’s wonderful! I’ll have to send Luminus my thanks later on. But, Adalmann!”
“Yes!”
“At this point, you can beat the guardian of Floor 70, can’t you?”
“…How do you mean, my lord?”
He seemed confused, so I spelled it out for him in detail.
………
……
…
Currently, Floors 61 through 70 were nicknamed the Golem Zone, filled with inorganic, tirelessly working sentries. Some of the specialized area bosses on those floors even wielded test versions of the firearms we were working on. There were also a lot of brutal traps, headed up primarily by land mines—but none of them were particularly lethal. The zone was overall meant as a trial for people playing the healer role in adventuring parties.
The main boss of this zone was a new machine, a modified version of the Elemental Colossus. Vester had finally completed it with the help of Kaijin. It still boasted the high defense magisteel offered, but now it was lighter and more compact, making it mobile while keeping the pilot’s seat fully protected. It wasn’t sentient, but it had room for a pilot inside, although it could also run on the thoughts of a remote pilot.
At the moment, I believed Beretta was operating it remotely. I liked that—it certainly eliminated the threat of viral cloud attacks, and not even a Minos Bardiche could cut through a magisteel body. Its armor also featured a layered structure, the shielding scales from Charybdis granting it the powers of Magic Interference.
It was a completely invincible metal guardian—once the Elemental Colossus, now called the Demon Colossus. And I was fully sure Shingee’s party would never make it past Floor 70.
………
……
…
However, after seeing how Adalmann fought today, I was starting to reconsider matters.
“Veldora, who do you think’s stronger—Adalmann or the Demon Colossus?”
“Hmm… Adalmann, without a doubt.”
“Right? So you see, Adalmann, we’re going to promote you to Floor 70.”
There you go. If Veldora agreed with me, I couldn’t be mistaken.
Understood. The power comparison between the subjects Adalmann and the Demon Colossus is—
Oh, um, I don’t need the numbers, thanks. This is more about image, so…
“Ah, ahhhhhhhh…!! I, Adalmann, promise to expend every effort to live up to your expectations!”
“And I, your humble servant Alberto, promise to support my master, Adalmann, with every fiber of my being.”
They kneeled before me again as they made their pledges. They had changed so much when I’d taken my eyes off them. The Demon Colossus was hardly any slouch, but honestly, it didn’t really have the gravitas a boss needed. That, and if it got broken again, it’d just break our hearts. We have to implant it with a soul, or it wouldn’t be subject to Ramiris’s powers in the Dungeon, so we can’t experiment to see if it’d get resurrected after being smashed up. Maybe with a soul, things would be different—or if there was a pilot inside it, would that work? Oh, but if someone was possessing it, maybe it wouldn’t be treated as an item any longer…
Regardless, we sadly had no plans along those lines yet. I thus saw no reason why we shouldn’t promote Adalmann and his crew.
“All right! Then as of today, I want to have Floors 51 through 60 switched with Floors 61 through 70.”
“Roger! You got it!” said Ramiris.
And so we restructured the labyrinth right then and there.
Following Adalmann’s exemplary performance, the Dungeon had a new hierarchy. That took care of matters for now, so I was about to order Adalmann out of the control room when the previously silent Diablo spoke up.
“We seem to be at the end of the conversation, so I have something I’d like to report to you.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, my servant Razen sent a magical call stating that he has something to urgently discuss with you. It seems his former instructor or the like called upon him, and now this man is asking for an audience with you, Sir Rimuru. His name is Gadora.”
Hmm… Never heard of him.
Report. He is listed as the author of a number of books on sorcery.
Oh, he’s famous, huh? I thought Razen was a pretty well-known and talented sorcerer himself, but his master must be even more so, huh? Kinda interesting. I wouldn’t mind meeting him, but…
“Wouldn’t that be a trap, though? We’re on the eve of duking it out with the Empire, so a meeting at this point seems really suspicious, I think…”
“Exactly! There is no need at all for you to meet with such a dubious person, Sir Rimuru!”
Shion was even more doubtful than I was—and I could see why. Given the times we lived in, if my personal guardian wanted to keep me away from danger—well, she was just doing her job. I wasn’t nearly as wary as her, so I figured it was better to listen to my advisers for matters like these.
“Indeed… I see no need to lend an ear to the opinions of someone on the level of Razen. In fact, I hardly even need to listen to him at all.”
Diablo made this sound like an accepted fact, but I was sure he just wanted to be excused from all this. Regardless, if both of my personal secretaries were advising me against it, I was ready to call this off—but then I noticed Adalmann fidgeting a bit. Yeah, I understood how he felt. Sometimes, just when you’re about to leave your boss’s office, a phone call or unexpected visitor comes along. You don’t want to interfere, but you don’t want to just walk out on the boss, either…so you’re stuck there, helplessly watching the clock tick away. Or is it just me?
Regardless…
“Sorry, Adalmann. That’s all I needed from you, so you guys can leave.”
“N-no, my lord! There is no need to be concerned about us. But apart from that…”
“Hmm?”
“To tell the truth, I…um…”
“Yes?”
“This man, Gadora, that you speak of…”
“Mm-hmm?”
“I believe this may perhaps be a friend of mine.”
“Huh?”
I turned my eyes to Adalmann. He was shifting a bit in his seat, looking flustered. I almost wanted to say No, Adalmann, you’re allowed to have friends. I don’t think you’ve betrayed me…
So I asked Diablo to hold his opinion for now while Adalmann gave me more details. He and Gadora, as he put it, were close friends over a thousand years ago. I figured he’d have to be long dead in that case, but Gadora was a master-level wizard, so it wouldn’t be unheard of if he wove his own magic to extend his life. After all, this was the very man who cast Reincarnation on Adalmann to save him.
Adalmann also recognized the name Razen; as he recalled, he was one of Gadora’s primary apprentices. We kept discussing them for a while, and as we did, it was increasingly clear this Gadora wanting to see me was the exact same guy.
“Diablo?”
“Understood. I will arrange a date and time.”
Such a talented secretary. All I had to do was call his name, and he instantly recognized my intentions. My not-so-talented other secretary had no objections, so I decided to go ahead and give Gadora a tryout.
With their defeat on Floor 60, Shinji’s party got to experience returning from death for the very first time. They woke up to find a large audience thanking them, cheering them, booing them, even reassuring them that they couldn’t have avoided that loss. Their battles in the labyrinth were broadcast live, and Shinji’s conquest was turning into a popular diversion.
Dungeon challengers, of course, had the right to turn down any recording or broadcast of their exploits—it was a purely optional contract to sign. But Shinji had two reasons to go through with it—one, they got a cut of the broadcast fees; and two, they figured becoming famous would help keep them safe. They were in enemy territory, so if they became known names, it’d be that much harder for someone to assassinate them—and since the contract only allowed their boss fights to be broadcast, they didn’t have to be on edge the entire time.
It looked like the contract would be pretty lucrative for them, besides, so Shinji had no reason to turn it down. The same was true for his companions, so Shinji signed on the dotted line…and the result was this huge crowd greeting them now.
“Boy, that was too bad! Hope you train up a little more and try again!”
“Man, those guys never stood a chance. What kind of monsters were those anyway? He swung that sword like it was a twig…and what about that skeleton on the throne? Some kinda legendary monster?”
“It was probably a wight king. The earth-shattering ruler of the dead. Not even an Arch Demon could take him!”
“Whoa. So was that dragon alive or not, though? It didn’t look like a statue or anything, but if it could’ve joined the battle, too, I don’t think any human being had a chance in there.”
The questions came hard and fast from the audience. Shinji’s party just smiled and waved as they found their way out of there.
“Well, I’m gonna keep my eye on you heroes!”
“You’re all gonna be in the record books alongside Sir Masayuki now! If you wanna beat that boss, you better find a way quick while Sir Masayuki’s preparing for the war!”
“Yeah, I got money down on you guys doing it, so keep it up!”
The voices remained just as loud behind their backs as they retired to their inn.
Once they reached their room, the three of them flopped down on their beds.
“So now what’re we gonna do?” Marc asked.
“Who cares?” an utterly exhausted Shinji replied. “Just lemme rest a bit.”
They put everything they had into that boss battle…but it made everything up to Floor 59 look like preschool. On Floor 60, even the non-boss adversaries worked with a clear command structure—the sentient Death Lord they encountered led a team of fighters into battle. They managed to beat him and make it to the boss chamber, but what ensued in there was just wretched.
“…You gonna report back to Yuuki?”
Zhen’s reminder made Shinji get up. He sat down on the bed, sighing, as Marc and Zhen picked themselves up and sat around him.
“I don’t really know what we can report. We had no idea that side-quest zone was gonna be so hard.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad up to Floor 59, but what the hell was up with 60? A Death Lord with a whole platoon of death knights—like, they had a whole army loaded up for us in there! Any normal soldier would’ve had his ass kicked in the blink of an eye!”
“I know.”
“…That was awful. Everything got so well defended on that floor. And those three bosses—not just the knight who beat us, but the skeleton on the throne and the dragon… Those had to be secret bosses, I think.”
Now they were lost in conversation, too excited to worry too much about each other. The easy-breezy atmosphere up to yesterday had disappeared in under twenty-four hours.
“And that boss sittin’ on the throne… That was a wight king, you know. I guess someone with high-level appraisal magic managed to identify it…but it’s so different from how it looks on-screen!”
“One hundred percent,” Marc said in agreement with Shinji. “Having that show up when we were totally unprepared for it… How could we even deal?”
“…Honestly, I never wanna see it again.”
Zhen’s companions were on the same page. And the wight king didn’t even participate in the battle. It didn’t move from the throne—just sat there, exuding royal dignity.
“I mean, that minotaur guy seemed like a ‘regular’ boss, y’know? He was around an A in strength. But wasn’t Floor 60 way too much of a step up?”
“…Yeah. Too much. I’m starting to think everything up to Floor 50 was meant to put us off our guard.”
“But now I’m really sure of it,” avowed Shinji. “If monsters that strong are protecting it, there’s got to be something in that maze.”
“Yeah. That Alberto guy was just way out of our league.”
“Even his equipment! I tried appraising it while Marc engaged him, but it was all Unique from head to toe.”
“Ah, that explains it. I came in figuring my Minos Bardiche could cleave right through all that.”
“I guess weapons you pick up from treasure chests work well on the next boss only in RPGs, huh…?”
“Well, yeah. I think we got too full of ourselves in there.”
“…Yeah.”
They looked at each other and heaved a sigh in unison. Now they were a bit calmer. It was time for some tea and a moment to catch their breath.
“Wanna try again tomorrow?”
“Are you serious?”
“…Not against them. We’d lose every time.”
“Yeah…”
“Also, that ‘hero’ talk… Yuuki mentioned Masayuki to us before, right? Like, that kid who has incredible good luck and nothing else? And he took on Floor 60?”
“I don’t think he has yet, no. His party advanced down pretty easily as well, but they say he’s never died yet in there.”
“Oh. Has any other party tried it?”
“The chatter I heard said the top runners are all tackling Floor 50 at the moment, but none of them signed broadcast deals, so until now, Masayuki had the best public record. Beyond that, there’s a few broadcasting parties stuck on Floor 40.”
Signing a contract didn’t mean you were watched inside the Dungeon at all times. The cameras were only situated in the boss rooms every ten floors, and occasionally camera crews would follow you around for special events and so on. Thus, thanks to being the first team to Floor 60, Shinji’s party became the big celebrities of the moment—and with the way they kept rewriting records, people were starting to place bets on them.
“Y’know, I’m willing to bet Masayuki got tipped off. He probably knows Floor 60’s home to a secret boss.”
“I guess we shoulda expected to lose, then. Like, two guys at that level, plus a dragon? This labyrinth is so unbalanced.”
“…It was pretty well-balanced until Floor 50. I really do think that was meant as a hidden boss. The hidden town’s probably right past that.”
So they continued talking and consoling themselves for a while, before moving on to their future plans.
“You know, guys, if we’ve got crowds cheering for us in this city, I don’t think we can really do any kinda spy work.”
“Nah, nah, that’s not a big problem. Like I said, we’re safer this way.”
“…All we’ve done is go into the labyrinth so far.”
“So should we wait for Lord Gadora to show up? Because I think we hit a pretty big dead end down there. Or,” Marc said with a grin, “you wanna try training or something?”
Shinji chuckled. “Well, there’s definitely something past that chamber, and the guardian’s way stronger than anything else we saw. I think I can report that much to Yuuki.”
“Tell him how big the labyrinth is, too. It must’ve been magically expanded or something, because it’s way too large and deep to be man-made.”
“…And don’t forget, he was far stronger than anything on any other floor.”
Shinji meekly nodded at Marc and Zhen. “Right, right. Okay, once I’m done with my report, you guys wanna tour around some more?”
There was no need to spend any more time talking about it. The three of them mentally flipped the page as they went out into the night.
Their first stop was a secluded spot outside of town, where they made their report as agreed upon. After sending the summary report to Yuuki, they received a magical call from him about ten minutes later.
“Hey. Glad you’re doing okay.”
“Well, we were until last night, but today was awful for us.”
“Ha-ha-ha! Yeah, sounds like you guys got your asses kicked. So what are you up to next?”
“I think it’ll depend on Lord Gadora. We’ve got no way to pass Floor 60 by ourselves, and the labyrinth’s not really set up so we can sneak our way around it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. All right. Now, lemme ask you something else…”
“Yes?”
“Can you go into more detail on just how strong the Floor 60 boss is? Just, like, anything you felt in there is fine.”
Only Shinji and his friends understood the angle of this question. What Yuuki asked, basically, was how high up in the Imperial Guardians this opponent would be.
Shinji thought it over a moment. The imperial army’s ranking duels held little interest to him. He didn’t care much about working his way up the military ranks, so he had never tried challenging anyone before. He owed Yuuki for picking him up and taking care of him, so he just served him as a way to pay back the debt—in the military, though, since he didn’t like lending a hand to organized crime. The moment Yuuki began leading the Composite Division, he transferred over there from his original assignment in the Armored Division.
He wasn’t the only otherworlder in the East to think along these lines, either. Quite a few of them avoided making shows out of their power, dodging major responsibilities and just living normal lives. That made it harder to accurately gauge their strength, so nobody could really say whether the Imperial Knights were truly the strongest or not. They were by name, at least—and in a way, it was natural that they were ranked on such a detailed basis.
“I’d say he’d at least make it into the top fifty. I don’t think anyone lower than that would stand a chance.”
“Are you talking about Alberto alone?”
“Yes. Oh, and I dunno if this helps, but I was deployed as an army medic for an anti–Arch Demon mission once. I only got a quick look at that fight, but the wight king I saw today had pretty much the same magicule count, I think.”
“Do you mean the Crimson Shore disaster?”
“Oh, um, yeah.”
“Roger. Okay, thanks for the guidance. You guys can go on R & R until you regroup with Lord Gadora.”
With that, the magical call ended.
………
……
…
The Crimson Shore disaster was considered among the most ignoble events to ever occur on imperial soil. It had its origins in a beautiful lakeside province that rebelled against the Empire and declared independence. They were at a military disadvantage, of course, but what their king did to make up the difference wound up triggering a catastrophe. He had tapped into secret demon-summoning arts—an all but forbidden taboo.
His orders were to summon the most powerful demon they could manage, and his court sorcerers did his bidding. The Arch Demon they summoned wound up laying waste to the entire province.
This was a small province, its total population less than ten thousand, and it had no chance of outgunning the Empire. But the king still had good reason to go rogue—his only daughter, the princess of the realm, was being claimed by an imperial noble as his concubine.
With the Empire being as vast as it was, the emperor didn’t waste his time in the nitty-gritty dealings of the tinier provinces. All imperial territory belonged to him, its management left to the nobility, and so nobles had free reign to treat the provinces as they pleased. It was thus common to see a frontier earl use the emperor’s authority to act like a brutal tyrant over the region he ruled.
What the demon wanted, however, was the splinter kingdom’s princess. The king steadfastly denied this request—but once his head sorcerer caught sight of the demon’s full glory, he went mad, his spirit crushed forever, and he agreed to the demand. Thus, with an evil smile, the demon possessed the princess’s body. The king was enraged, but that rage was soon replaced with terror—for once the demon had a body, that was when the massacre began.
When the Empire was informed that the province was leveled, they decided to send out a force to subdue this demon. They were fortunate they did, for if they had acted any later, it could have been the birth of a second Guy Crimson.
This force arrived to find the beautiful lake turned a deep shade of red, dyed by the blood of the province’s citizens. It was a black mark on the history of the Empire, the worst thing to happen to it in centuries.
It was ultimately the Armored Division, its bases located across the Empire, who put an end to the Crimson Shores incident. That’s what the history books said. But the truth—as Shinji was witness to from far away—was that a small group of soldiers defeated the Arch Demon all by themselves.
The whole affair struck Shinji as fishy, really. Clearly, the nobility was oppressing the countryside—but once the demon aimed its terror at the Empire’s own citizens, Shinji began to wonder if the truth was as cut-and-dried as reported. For one, the Empire reacted almost too quickly. In the time it’d take to report the incident to the imperial mainland, debate over countermeasures, and form an expeditionary force, the demon could’ve easily completed its full manifestation. Instead, the Empire stopped this just in the nick of time—thus proving, in Shinji’s mind anyway, that they were tipped off in advance.
He had no intention of telling anyone else about this. When he saw the strength of the demon his deployment was fighting, it taught him that some things were better off left unexplored in his life.
I have to imagine those guys had to be at the top of the Imperial Knights…
No matter what he did, Shinji doubted he’d ever have a chance against them. It truly felt like they belonged to some other world—and that’s when he stopped caring about his army rank.
………
……
…
Shinji breathed a sigh of relief as Marc and Zhen eyed him carefully.
“You done?” asked Marc.
“…Thanks for handling that,” said Zhen.
“Sure. I think that about covers it. Now we get to chill out until Lord Gadora shows.”
“All right. But damn, you survived Crimson Shore?”
“…Good thing you did.”
“Yeah. By playing possum. One of the better decisions I made in my life, I think.”
“Aw, hell, you deserve a medal just for making it out. Didn’t like two-thirds of that force get killed off?”
“That’s right. I never wanna join anything like that again. I mean, I was an army medic, and I couldn’t even do anything.”
“…Oh?”
“Yeah, every attack killed its targets instantly, so healing didn’t matter. That’s why I bugged out real early on.”
“Wow. That sounds rough. Arch Demons are really that bad?”
“Well, the one I saw was. Beyond bad. And plus, I swear we made eye contact once, but if you ask me, I think she let me go. Her eyes were, like, bloodred. Just remembering it makes me wanna piss my pants.”
Shinji gave his surprised-looking audience a smile.
“But if that skeleton’s on the level of an Arch Demon like that, there’s no way we can take him.”
“…It’s really on the same level?”
“The magicule counts are anyway. They say that the longer a demon’s existed, the stronger they are…and I think the one I saw was pretty old.”
It had to be, or else the highest echelons of imperial government wouldn’t have taken such drastic action. But Shinji stopped himself from saying that.
“But there’s no point dwelling on it. I heard they’re working on a machine that can tabulate the power of your adversary, but I don’t really see the point. Even that knight Alberto—based on his magicules, I can’t even imagine how strong he is. And do you remember back in our classes? How good you were in a fight involved a lot more than just how strong you were.”
“Right. I get what you’re sayin’.”
“…Yeah.”
“That sort of thing. Some demons are just beyond anything we can measure. That’s all I want you to remember.”
The way Shinji put it, they couldn’t even begin to work on that level. The other two took that to heart.
With the worst of the day behind them, the trio hurried over to the Free Guild office before it closed and sold their magic crystals and extra equipment to the resource department.
“Whoa, these crystals are from really deep down, aren’t they? The quality’s completely different.”
“Another slotted weapon? And pure magisteel? They’d never let these out in public in other countries.”
The Guild staff members were pretty impressed. Shinji’s party could’ve fetched higher prices if they shopped around, but they were here on an undercover investigation, so they didn’t want to expand their social network that much. Besides, the Guild paid well enough. Their mission was at a standstill, but the past few days alone ensured they were damn well funded, at least.
In the army, they were paid an annual salary, all in advance; if you got promoted in rank, you’d receive the difference in salary the following year. Even if you were penniless upon enlistment, you’d get a reserve fund based on how many days remained in the year. Thus you really couldn’t lose money in the military—even if you died in combat, the advance salary would be treated as part of your family’s consolation payout.
Foot soldiers ranked up to private received a base salary of around ten gold coins, equivalent to approximately ten thousand dollars a year. The army covered your room, board, and clothing, so this pay was still a blessing for the lower classes. To this, enlisted men could add rank pay, hazard pay, and a lot of other side bonuses, depending on their duties.
Marc and Zhen were both first lieutenants, while Shinji was a major with a medic qualification. None of them had the authority to give orders, but their rank still afforded them a few nice perks. Otherworlders, in general, were treated well in the Empire—at least on the level of a second lieutenant—but Shinji was ranked higher than his companions.
Regardless, though, all of them were on a much higher pay scale than rank-and-file infantry. A first lieutenant’s rank earned them thirty-six gold coins, while a major netted forty-four—every rank promotion meant an extra four golds a year. Combined with the base pay and other income, Mark’s and Zhen’s yearly salaries were around fifty golds, while Shinji’s usually broke seventy.
A military salary gave you an income above the imperial average, but you still weren’t living like a tycoon. You’d be rich by rural standards, but in the capital, the cost of living was sky-high. Still, life could be tough in this world if you decided to go it by yourself. Having a stable career, whether in the military or elsewhere, was a godsend.
Now, though, this trio knew better. They didn’t need to cling to the army at all. They could just live in that city within the labyrinth, and they’d be just fine.
Their confidence chiefly stemmed from the fact that today’s trip to the Guild alone earned them over three hundred gold coins. That well outpaced what a year in the army would earn them all combined. That, and unless the Empire handed it out to them, they’d never have a chance at scoring Unique-class equipment in their lives. It was a huge windfall.
All three of them realized this well enough, but all three hesitated to say it out loud. They kept their silence as they headed to their next destination.
Once in Rimuru, the monster city, they chose a fairly high-end restaurant for dinner, enjoying the kind of luxury they hadn’t experienced in ages.
“…Is this really okay?” Zhen timidly asked. “Selling equipment like that?”
Shinji and Marc were unmoved.
“Of course it is! We didn’t sell all of it. We kept some samples.”
“Yeah, and it’s not like we can take it all home anyway. As long as we keep the good stuff, nobody’s gonna complain.”
Unless they received permission to loot it, anything procured during a military operation belonged to the armed forces. In this case, none of them would have any right to protest if everything they earned was taken away. At the same time, though, they were asked to investigate the labyrinth. They were posing as adventurers, and selling booty on the market was perfectly normal adventurer behavior. It seemed safe to take this as a nice side benefit. Besides, it’s not like Yuuki would demand this stuff from them anyway—he was bound to let Shinji’s party have it all, except for what he personally needed.
“But y’know… If they do confiscate all the money we’ve made, you gotta start seriously thinkin’ about moving here, don’tcha?”
Shinji finally said it first. Nobody disagreed.
One gold coin is equivalent to around a thousand dollars, a ballpark conversion that applied just as well in the Empire as it did here. Minted in the Dwarven Kingdom, they circulated around the world, and the Empire recognized them as official currency. Whatever they earned here, they could bring home and use like any other money.
“I think that’s totally doable.”
“…Yeah. I was just joking about it earlier, but now I feel like working here would be a lot more fun.”
Shinji only half meant it, but Marc and Zhen were more up for it than he anticipated.
Yes, the Empire was on the cutting edge of culture and technology. It boasted a fine capital, the food was good, and they lived comfortably. As long as they had money, they could enjoy life well enough, even compared with their former world. But they were in the military, and that always came with the potential for death.
Meanwhile, the Dungeon offered everything they could possibly want. You never worried about dying—something they didn’t quite believe at first, but now that they’d experienced it once, they were convinced. And if death wasn’t a concern, wouldn’t it be better to just earn what they could in there and party it up in town? That was the conclusion Shinji and his friends made, and no one could blame them for it.
Money, of course, was meaningless without entertainment, something the monster city of Rimuru offered lots of. There was a battle arena open to the public when events weren’t taking place, giving citizens a nice, well-maintained space to play and relax. Sports like soccer and baseball were starting to spread, and some of the dungeon runners were forming teams. And then there were the hot springs—and the theaters, which housed a flourishing drama scene that played to big crowds on a regular basis, something they already witnessed for themselves. The food was just as good—no, even better than the Empire’s, featuring familiar Japanese specialties, desserts, and a dizzying range of adult beverages. They were re-creating cuisines that didn’t even exist in this realm, and an Earth native like Shinji found it all hopelessly attractive.
Plus, when you really got down to it, their only obligation was to Yuuki—and Yuuki didn’t look like he wanted conflict with the demon lord Rimuru. It didn’t even seem like they’d be betraying anyone if they moved here.
“I know desertion gets us the death penalty. But we’re not at war, are we? Not yet anyway.”
“Right? I was just thinking about that, too, Shinji. ’Cause we can still request a discharge, yeah?”
“…That’ll depend on Yuuki.”
Desertion was a crime only when the nation was in a state of war. That didn’t apply at the moment, luckily. Depending on how you interpreted this, an honorable discharge still seemed possible.
“But the problem,” muttered Marc, “is this war.”
That was the whole reason they couldn’t commit to abandoning the Empire. War was obviously looming on the horizon, ready to rise up on them, and it’d leave its scars across this entire region. If it weren’t for that, they’d be house hunting right now.
“Who do you think’s gonna win?”
“…Like, before that, if we’re ordered to attack this city, what’re we gonna do?”
The trio exchanged glances. It was an excellent dinner, but suddenly it tasted bland to them. Attacking the city was the last thing they wanted, in a couple of ways.
Shinji’s group had stayed here only a little while, but they really liked it. They’d hate it if this city got wiped off the map. That was one reason. The second—as their imaginations ominously suggested—was that if the labyrinth bosses were any indication, the strongest of Tempestian fighters had to be absolute beasts.
“I mean, of course they’re gonna have someone really strong defending their important facilities, right?” said Marc. “But their troops have to be weaker than that. Or I guess we hope they are, huh?”
“I agree,” Shinji replied with a nod. “I think once you get to the level of Rimuru, at least, it’s a whole other ball game. There’s a story about how Veldora razed an entire city long ago, and now I really don’t think that’s a joke at all. I mean, that wight king could do it, even.”
The monsters who called Tempest home certainly seemed capable of disasters like that.
“You know, the way I see it, Arch Demons are kind of like nuclear weapons back home. They’ve got nuclear magic here, even.”
“Yeah. ’Cause we’ve seen how war is all about numbers…but with a boss like that, all the numbers in the world wouldn’t do a thing.”
“…You’d need dozens of fighters as good as us to stand a chance.”
All of them scowled…and the magical call from Gadora came shortly afterward.
An elderly man was prostrated before me. Behind him, the trio I had been watching on the control room’s big screen were following his lead.
The man’s name was Gadora, the very one who went through Diablo and Razen to request an audience with me. He wasn’t gaudily dressed, but he had an expensive-looking magic robe on, his eyes sharp enough that I doubted his age a little.
Shingee, as I surmised, was actually named Shinji—Shinji Tanimura, to be exact. The other two put their real names on the processing form. All three were apparently assigned to Gadora here, a master sorcerer; they usually worked under Yuuki but were serving as assistants to Gadora in their current investigations.
They had explained all this to me, and after Gadora was done, he took this pose, Shinji and the gang copying him. We weren’t gonna get anywhere like this.
“Yeah, um… That’s about what I figured with you guys, I guess. But we can’t really get comfortable and talk if you’re posing like that, okay? Let’s move somewhere else.”
Shion nodded. “Lift your heads,” she intoned, sounding grumpy for some reason. This is why I hate royal audiences like this—I know I’m gonna mess up my manners somehow. I’d prefer to just skip the whole thing.
“A-as you wish!!”
Given all that exaggerated shouting, I was starting to dread our meeting.
So we relocated to a reception room—a plainer one. I tended to prefer this one; over in the fancier chamber, the furniture and stuff were so high-end that I was afraid I’d break or ruin something. One false move with a full teacup, and it’d be liable to stain the fancy carpet we had in there. In my heart, I was still just another common peon, and I preferred surroundings within my means. It appeared Shinji’s party was the same way; they looked a bit more cheerful than before.
“Which do you like more,” I casually asked, “tea or coffee?”
“Uh, um, coffee, please.”
“Shinjiiiii!!” Gadora shouted. I spent a few moments calming him down.
“And you, Gadora?”
“M-me? Well, um, I’ll have what Shinji’s having.”
Oh? Don’t they have coffee in the Empire? I figured they would, but maybe there’s not that much in circulation. Turning toward Marc and Zhen, they simply nodded back at me—they were okay with the same thing, I supposed.
“Okay, four American blends, Shuna!”
“A-American?!” Gadora yelped.
“Oh, did you want something stronger? Dark roast, maybe? Or you wanna try it Tempest style?”
“N-no, um, I didn’t mean it like that, but… Ah…”
“Oh?”
“S-Sir Rimuru, would you happen to be…an otherworlder?”
“Um, yeah…?”
That’s the question he has? Because if so, he clearly hasn’t done his homework. I sized the four of them up, but only Gadora had an “oh crap” look on his face. I guess the other three knew but forgot to tell him. Ah well.
“Now, how about we get down to business?”
Shuna laid out the coffee cups on the table, along with enough milk and sugar for everyone. Leaving Shinji and his friends to watch in wonder at this, I decided to address Gadora first. He gave Shinji a spiteful look after he exclaimed “Oh, this coffee’s really good!” but I was kind enough to overlook this.
“Well, to tell you the truth, I am something of a veteran reincarnate as well.”
…Hmm. Lord Gadora certainly kicked things off with a bombshell. The other three turned toward him, looking just as surprised.
Apparently Gadora, in his mission to master the magical arts, had reincarnated himself many times over an untold number of years. With every rebirth, he’d read through the secret libraries of this or that royal palace, allowing him to build a vast store of knowledge. He came to know Adalmann in the midst of this clandestine sorcery research, and the two became close friends.
“As I mentioned earlier, I had a personal vendetta against the Western Holy Church—one I kindled after my best friend Adalmann was killed. Thus, over the course of centuries, I crafted my plans and coaxed the Empire into doing my bidding.”
Gadora gave me his personal history. After Adalmann was put into a trap, he swore revenge, headed into the Empire alone, and gradually built up his reputation. He had experienced battle against Veldora as well—certainly, he’d led a far more eventful life than I thought.
“In hindsight, I’m honestly glad I completed my reincarnation ritual before we challenged him. I always wanted to see for myself the ultimate in evil, the worst nature could create…”
Only four True Dragons had ever been born. They sat at the precipice of monster-dom, the most powerful beings on the planet. Based on his experience battling one of them, he didn’t think the imperial army was likely to ever beat Veldora. He was, of course, saying this right in front of the guy, who was already shooting me gleeful sidelong glances. I wish he’d stop. Yeah, it’s amazing and all, but it’s not like I was obliged to keep praising him over it.
“I do think, mind you, that we could have scored a tactical victory against Sir Veldora. But those fools in the Empire insisted on trying to win that beast over to our side. I warned them, time and time again, that it was an impossible waste of time.”
Gadora’s interests were fixed squarely upon the West and his revenge against Luminism, and he didn’t want to waste good soldiers on pointless campaigns. He attempted to prevail upon his superiors how unrealistic their hopes were, but the commanders refused to listen, overvaluing themselves far too much.
Hearing all this, Gadora sounded like a pretty stand-up guy. But Gadora was also the one who fanned the Empire’s lust for expansion, it seemed. I asked him to spare me all the details and skip to more recent trends.
“So for the most part, the Empire’s trying to start a war because of you?”
“That… That’s part of it, you could say…”
No, old man—you can try talking your way around it, but you had to be the cause. He quickly began making excuses, perhaps sensing my displeasure.
“But… But no! The Empire has always had that will to dominate, you see. If I didn’t give that lust for power a direction, they would’ve fanned the flames of war all over the world. All I did was turn their eyes toward the West. Their goals matched with mine, you could say. It was a good arrangement…I thought…”
Oh, like hell it was! And now we’re mixed up in it for no reason?
“And let me tell you, I was against invading the Forest of Jura. It is the domain of Sir Veldora, the Storm Dragon, and I didn’t want to repeat our mistakes from before. I suggested they devote their efforts toward scheming against the Dwarven Kingdom instead, but they can be so stubborn, all of them. They try to use military might to solve all their problems…”
Gadora sounded pained about it. I didn’t care.
“Wait a minute! So the Empire does want to hit the Dwarven Kingdom?!”
I had pretty much discounted it. But did we need to consider a campaign route through Dwargon after all?
“You thought about that, too? Well, it’s nothing as concrete as wanting to ‘hit’ them, exactly. My suggestion was to propose an alliance with King Gazel, so he’d allow us to march through the kingdom. My only grudge was with the Western Holy Church, remember…”
The old sorcerer was already aware that Adalmann was safe. They would be meeting after our talk was done—and that’s why Gadora, realizing just how badly he whiffed on all of this, had switched to an antiwar stance. He was on friendly terms with the emperor, he claimed, but not even he could ask him to withdraw their military plans. Instead, he kept pleading his case against the war in subsequent government-level meetings.
This attitude seemed a little too convenient for my tastes, but if Gadora could help us avoid war, I was willing to bite my tongue. Either way, I wanted to get as much out of him as I could right now. As I did, Benimaru and my other officers were in the next room over, listening in and holding their own strategic conference. My job was to make Gadora as comfortable—and loose-lipped—as possible.
“I imagine King Gazel turned you down, huh?”
“As one would expect, I suppose. Some of our commanders considered an assassination attempt, but I spoke up against that. If we were prepared to do that, I said, we may as well crush them with an all-out assault!”
It didn’t strike me as anything to be proud of. He was more of a warmonger than I thought.
I rolled my eyes a bit but kept extracting more info from him. The Empire’s military structure, the thoughts of their leading officers…even the astonishing news that Yuuki was planning a coup. All this assured me that I was getting pretty much everything Gadora could provide.
Finally, seemingly at ease, Gadora opened up to me.
“Let me assure you, Sir Rimuru, that I bear no particular sense of duty toward the Empire. They broke up the army division I personally built from scratch and took all my men away from me. This group with me—Shinji, Marc, and Zhen—are my personal apprentices, so I’m allowed to turn to them as needed. But in the end, if Adalmann is alive and well…or um, well, at least…then I have no attachment left to the Empire.”
He was an egocentric, self-centered old man, not a shred of loyalty in his heart, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. I had to hand it to him—I wasn’t about to say it out loud, but I kind of respected that attitude.
“So with that in mind, Sir Rimuru, if I may have the honor of joining your cause, I am ready to exert myself as best as I can!”
Right after admitting his utter lack of loyalty, he was courageous enough to ask for a spot in my administration. I gotta admit, I liked the guy. But Benimaru and some others were in the next room hearing all this. I could already picture them losing their temper over Gadora’s attitude. It was gonna be hard to calm them down later.
Still, that didn’t stop me from bringing Gadora on as a guest adviser, albeit on a probationary basis. If he wanted to join me, I’d make him work for the right. He certainly wasn’t gonna be too loyal to me, but I’d see how he could pitch in.
For now, I was okay with him meeting Adalmann and using a Transport spell to access Floor 70. His knowledge could help us out a lot—maybe he could assist Ramiris. But before he settled down in Tempest, I planned to have him return to the Empire and do a little job for me.
As for Shinji and company, I’d allow them to remain here in Tempest. They told me they’d take it easy for a while as they figured out what they wanted to do. This was their request, made under Gadora’s advice, and I had no reason to turn it down. If they turned traitor, I could always banish them—but I guess they really didn’t want that, because they readily pledged their loyalty to me. However, they also professed a great respect for Yuuki and asked not to be involved in any hostilities against him. I was okay with that.
“Really,” I said, “the relationship between us and Yuuki’s people is so complicated. We kinda have a truce for the moment is the way I’d put it. He’s pissed me off a lot, and I’d like to get back at him, honestly, but I can’t really will myself to hate his guts, either.”
Despite it all, Yuuki was still Shizu’s student. And whenever I recalled how happy Shizu seemed when she talked about him, I couldn’t help but cut the guy some slack. Maybe I was too soft on him, but hey, we’re fellow countrymen. There’d be no more second chances, but for now, I’d put our past history on ice. If you asked me to trust him, however, that was another story. Trusting that bastard at this point was nothing but a death wish.
“And you know, guys, I don’t think you should trust Yuuki too much, either.”
Gadora nodded at this, interestingly enough. Guess he had his own thoughts about Yuuki, too. They were acquaintances and partners at one point, so maybe Gadora could be a good go-between for us. I was starting to think recruiting him was a pretty smart idea. If he didn’t excessively trust Yuuki, either, I could at least believe him on that point.
Later, I reunited Gadora with Adalmann, the two of them fondly reminiscing. Adalmann consented to take him in, so for the time being, I’d let them live together.
But before he did…now that I had all the info I wanted from Gadora, I ordered him to return to the Empire and follow my instructions. First, he’d advocate against the war for me.
“You think you can do that?”
“By all means, Sir Rimuru. I am used to behind-the-scenes maneuvering, trust me.”
I’m sure he was. But normally, it’d be impossible for a single person to stop the will of an entire state. It’s not that I didn’t believe Gadora, but I figured it best to give him a plan B as well.
“If you can stop the war, that’d be best…but from what I’m hearing, that sounds like an uphill battle. You said the Empire’s got an expansionist streak, right? If they’re on the move, we can’t really stop them now.”
“But…”
“So if that winds up not working out, I want you to point ’em at this labyrinth.”
“How do you mean?”
In the labyrinth, we could take all the casualties in the world and still not have a problem. That led me to this idea.
“I see… So you’d use the labyrinth to chip away at the imperial forces and break their morale?”
“Pretty much. And I’m sure Yuuki’s gonna use that opportunity to act as well. If he starts a riot back home, the Empire can’t really keep a war going, can they?”
I wasn’t sure how well it’d all work out—but in the labyrinth, at least, we were guaranteed not to lose anyone. I explained all this to Gadora, giving him some labyrinth equipment and three Resurrection Bracelets. He could use this, I figured, to sell the Dungeon to the commanders for us. No army wanted to be attacked from the rear. I doubted they were going to ignore the labyrinth and march on to the West, but if we could dangle some rewards in front of their eyes…
“Ah, I understand. A very astute way of thinking—and I know a few commanders greedy enough to take the bait. I think you can expect results from this scheme, Sir Rimuru.”
So Gadora accepted it with full confidence. If possible, we’d stop the war. If not, we’d divert them into the labyrinth. The rest was up to him.
Thus I granted Gadora and his three apprentices asylum—and with these new, unexpected allies, the incident came to a close.