Slime 8 (Patreon)

There was one thing that fascinated me about this whole magic system, and that was the acquisition of tolerance. People could—and had—developed high tolerances for certain things.

I was personally resistant to a host of minor things like electricity and paralysis. I cannibalized my temperature resistance and conditionalized melee attack resistance—my jello body was the one that could have straight up refused to ignore that kind of violence.

But back to my point: resistances were actually amazing, especially if one could get… abnormal resistance. Which was just systemic code for defiance. See, I couldn’t just bestow the hobgoblins with Battlewill—that required actual stubbornness and cultivated optimism.

Battlewill, if I were to put it in brute terms, was that desperate defiance executed at the end of a fight.

You had to pull at hopes and dreams to fuel the realism of your existence. Fantasised heroism. The idealism of one’s peak in the art of barbarism. 

Let that dream be the protection your real state needed.

What I was trying to say was, unless you had Haki and the capability to coat it onto things, Battlewill would need to be beaten into you…

…and I meant that literally. I had to convince the hobgoblins that they were somehow capable of not only tanking insane punishment, but  somehow react to it.

Thus, that was what I was doing to Rigur and co. See, I had allowed the basics of combat and planning into the guard unit’s minds. I’d also had combative Earth Control added, Body Reinforcement, and Coordination imprinted in their psyches.

All this was to say, the unit was learned in combat—all ten of them. I’d split them into different security departments once the population grew.

“You have until ten minutes to withstand my barrage. Any attempts at only pure defense will be met with vicious punishment—remember, you are the line that will assure that no harm befalls this community.” 

I told them as I walked to the center of the training field, manifesting clothing of a like nature—a shirt and baggy pants and a set of flexible shoes—and a wooden sword. “I’ll be only using my swordsmanship and Battlewill. Awaken your own to end the barrage early.”

“Yes, Lord Rimuru!”

Good lads! Very heroic and unrelenting…

I let out a breath, bringing my existence to mundane-hood—or at least as mundane as I could be. 

I took the fourth form of my Mystic Art fighting style, Dancing Glory—Cutting Cushion. That was a fighting style that took heavily from the Illusory Arts. It allowed me to exercise insane destructive power at the cost of ridiculously low damage to.. targets.

There was a reason this was a Mystic Art, it told a lie that was true. Very good for building confidence in people. 

“Come!”

As soon as I finished that sentence, a car sized boulder was shot towards me with desperate intent, and it was a mere twenty centimeters from my face...

And so it was begun.

…I flexed my aura and the rock slammed in my manifested defiance and turned to dust. 

Atomising Zone!

Immediately after that, as these hobgoblins were strong and learned in fantastical battle, I tilted my head just a bit generously, watching as a spearhead thrust where my eye had been.

Amused, I slapped the spear upward before going low with my upper body and bringing my leg high in a whirling, intent coated kick. 

Cutting Cushion!

I caught the attacker under the arm, unsurprised to see that it was Gobta. That one was too eager. The attack’s impact was like an explosion. He was sent flying to the side, and I followed the attack with a slash that sent a severing arc of blue towards where the others were.

They dispersed into blurs of motion. I Flashstepped in response, going full offensive.

The goblins attacked with coordinated desperation, using all that was in their arsenal—earth, weapons, kicks. I was inspired, so their actions were a routine I had rehearsed a thousand times in my psyche.

I danced around each attack, grabbing and slamming and kicking and punching like it was a comedy. 

Rigur spiked the ground, and earthen lances erupted out in an ascending format. That was amateurish. I stomped the earth and interrupted the manipulation, then I blitzed toward him.

Battle Rush: Chain Burst!

Honor to the boy: he didn’t flinch or hesitate, transitioning into a predicting slash where he felt I would be. I was faster, so I interrupted his attack in its infancy with four attacks—a sword strike to his wrist, elbow, and shoulder.

A moment for the pain to register, then I caught his chin with a backspin kick. I saw his consciousness flicker out of existence for a brief moment.

He forced it back with pure defiance, but I stole his legs from underneath him.

I smiled, turning with my hand at the ready to change the momentum of the tree-sized rock arrow shot my way. I slapped the arrow down, and it bit into the ground until it was half-buried but visible.

Easily, I slapped at Itachi’s sneaky kick, pushing it down only for him to transfer the momentum into his other leg. At least this one was calculated in his attempts. Of course, I transitioned the push into a grab and slammed his body into Rigur’s, causing the other hobgoblin to experience another brief loss of consciousness.

Not waiting, I dashed towards another fighter, telegraphing a very deadly ground-to-sky diagonal slash that left a gash in the ground. Predictably, the goblin avoided the attack with a flip that saw them manipulating the ground under me to shoot up in a pillar, with myself atop it.

Immediately, I jumped over to the side of the pillar, and rushed downward along it, watching as the fighter startled at me heading towards him. 

Insta-move! Cutting Cushion!

I flickered out of sight, appearing behind him and catching his back with a kick that sent the hobgoblin towards his own pillar like a shot fired…

He wasn’t getting up.

…in that same breath, I swung dismissively to the side, catching Gobta on the cheek with the wooden sword immediately after he sprung out of the ground. He went flying again.

That was another Cutting Cushion, I was using that a lot.

A step back, and a sword slash that shimmered with traces of premature Battlewill cut where my head had been. That was interesting. I decided to engage in a dance, watching as Haru used blade and earth to deflect and attack.

I could see his confidence growing with each exchange. Then he got too cocky, erupting a rock wall between us and trying to give himself distance to execute a slash again.

Flashstep!

I allowed him, and he didn’t disappoint. A shimmering arc came for me a breath later. I met it with my own before blurring behind the goblin and striking him in the back with my sword. He yelped before losing consciousness.

Two more came side by side, reaching with attacks I easily danced around. I allowed the same play, affording them blocks and parries and dodges that feigned near success. One of them was grace and strength, using a rock club as big as him to attack…

Arrested Courage!

Itachi tried to interfere in the exchange alongside Rigur. I flared my Battlewill in the distance and froze them with pure terror and killing intent.

…the club hobgoblin arched back to charge his attack while his partner ran interference. I merely stepped to the side and watched his thrust pierce air. I spun and caught his ribs, sending him towards the frozen pair.

Atomising Zone!

Immediately after, the club came, and I accepted its path. I flared my Battlewill, and it ate the attack entirely. The club looked like someone had taken a perfect bite out of it.

“Eh?” the goblin exclaimed as he looked up at me. I merely gave him a raised brow at his shock. “Ah, come—that’s not f—“

Cutting Cushion!

I lashed out with a strike that caught his cheek like an explosion… he crumbled to the ground.

“There’s no fairness in battle, Nesa. Only dominance and victory.” I looked around at the guard unit; all of them were either groaning or out cold. “We rest for a bit before continuing—no healing.”

This was fun, and I wasn’t even trying, not by a margin.

One of the problems that plagued our little community was the abundance of orphaned hobgoblin kids—infant to tween. Almost a quarter of the population was just that, and the children needed to be taken care of and allowed the experience of love and excitement.

The issue was that they were many and there was already a bunch of stuff that needed doing. Thus, I decided to be the guardian and unchosen parent for the little monsters for a bit while yet.

Rigurd was already working on a system that would take care of and sponsor orphaned children in the future. To do that, we needed a very large and homey community to house the children. I wanted for them an almost normal childhood, thus they should lack for nothing.

Here was the problem: taking care of a hundred or so kids was difficult. Taking care of thirty infants was a nightmare and a half, and even with the great help of Haruna and Hana, I was spent at all hours of the day.

Magic wasn’t helping, or rather, I wasn’t employing much of it in this discipline. I wanted this to be genuine, or at least close enough, so my existence was motion.

The hardest parts were feeding and sleeping them. At most hours, I left them to the play room I conjured or walked them around the little town we were constructing. I was somewhat excited to discover that some of the kids had imprinted on me—that was nice. Being loved by an innocent yet selfish existence was a satisfying experience.

“I think I’ll be calling a lot of you annoying monsters the First Children of Tempest,” I said to the wide-eyed, adorable babies as I conjured fireworks and sparkly entertainment. “You’ll be the first and only generation to receive the ascendancy factor from me. I think I’ll brand the ascendancy… Inspiration.”

Some of them giggled and clapped their hands the way babies did as I burst a particularly colorful firework. If anything, I appreciated the Illusory Arts for their ability to hold and improve the moods of the babies.

I smiled at them, reaching into their souls and seeding the spiritual evolutionary path. And since the factor was created by me—I mean, I quite literally wrote it from the ground up by simulating Od’s Imaginary Creation—I included in it the primary skills that came with ascending to goblinhood’s spirituality.

But not for these guys—they were still too young and governed by selfishness and impulsiveness.

Almost immediately after I had made the baby goblins demi-spiritual beings like myself, the World acknowledged the creation of this factor.

«New Race Confirmed: Inspired Hobgoblin!»

«New Evolutionary Pathway assigned to races, Hobgoblin and Goblina.»

«Spiritual Awakening assigned to races, Hobgoblin and Goblina.»

Well, that was nice. Fortunately, it wasn’t an evolution per se, but an… exclusion of the hobgoblin species from the collective of monster-esque creatures. It was similar to elves—I had yet to know if dwarves were removed as well.

This meant these hobgoblins could only evolve spiritually via an Awakening Ritual, similar to my elvish incarnation’s enlightenment or sainthood. This also removed the goblin’s monster factor. To be clear, this meant the entire goblin race would only have one racial evolution—Hobgoblin.

No more kijin racial metamorphosis. It was only… Hobgoblin. And if my community grew, there wouldn’t even be goblins anymore, only Hobgoblins.

Another perk was the removal of a monster core and thus the naming system. But that would only apply to naturally born Hobgoblins.

I smiled at the little monsters as they started glowing in spiritual ascendancy and my blessing—of course I was going to bless them; I had already so many miracles to spare. Hana startled in surprise, the sight of the babies brightening up bringing her straight out of her drowsy state.

“Are they… okay, Lord Rimuru?” she asked with a glance towards me. It was nice to witness the complete trust and dependability she surrendered to me.

“Quite fine, I’d say.” I nodded, conjuring up cribs and floating the babies into them. “Though they’ll be asleep for the rest of today. You can go rest yourself, Hana. And take Haruna with you.”

The other girl was out cold on her chair. It wasn’t even midday and these two were already exhausted from handling the kids. I wondered if this labor would sway them away from pursuing the path of motherhood—I hoped not. And although it was extremely selfish of me, I wanted this community to grow by a hundred thousand times its current capacity.

Though, in return for my selfishness, I was willing to do all that was necessary to color the lives of these goblins bright and joyous…

I looked upon the leaving pair with a rather satisfied and contented smile on my face, feeling in me a swell of warmth I felt was bound to be addictive.

…I had grown too attached. That was a realisation I made a second later, scoffing quietly but amusedly at it all. 

“I don’t dislike this, though.” After all, what person shied away from happiness? No one, I believed.

Still, that made me wonder: would I be having kids if the chance presented itself? I was… unsure. I certainly would like to; I was assured enough in my capabilities to create an enjoyable environment for my sources of ever-pride and joy.

I could imagine it, and it was wonderful. But..

I glanced at my hand—fair and unblemished—then I clenched it, imagining in that moment the person I had actually become.

…I was still hesitant. I was too… inspired, and with each passing day, I grew ever further from mundanity. Despite my active limitation, I knew sooner or later that I’d become extraordinary.

“I would need to ascend in truth, and leave behind this realm of… commonality.” I couldn’t help but voice that, as that was the future I had etched into my own karma.

Not to mention, the world had betrayed that it had grand ambitions for me. Ambitions it would have to invest in someone else, as I was not to be another being’s puppet.

And that was my Blessing to my Hobgoblins, the freedom from fate’s whimsy, or whatever it was that governed the scripture of this world’s story.

“That was too much karma invested in a person,” I voiced softly in memory, untying my hair and letting it spill over my shoulders and back. With the kids asleep, I didn’t fear it being grabbed. “Still, I wonder what future was planned for me.”

A part of me felt as though I was meant to be an important person to whatever events were promised this world. I didn’t know if I was to be a bad important person or a good important person, however.

I could only wish that I would’ve been a hero. “Fingers crossed my alternative selves actually walk the path.” I was wanting to see what they became, or more excitingly, what could have been without my existence and either incarnation’s manifesting in this reality.

What would have become of my draconic brother and parent? Of this goblins? Of the elvenity I had become without my foretold lust befalling them?

I expected dullness for the last part, as I was to be both corruptor and saviour to elvish kind.

I chuckled at my comedy. 

A few moments later, as I was trying out a few miracles with this world’s mysticism—despite not being voodoo, it was still esoteric and thus, limitless—I was interrupted by a tired Rigurd, who seemed unbelievably excited and enthusiastic.

“Lord Rimuru,” he called upon seeing my seated form, though he was quick to lower his voice once he saw the ascending babies—he probably thought them sleeping. “We have guests, Lord Rimuru.”

My eyes widened in excitement, as I could guess what that meant, especially if Rigurd was this excited. I stood up quickly, an elegant dull blue suit becoming my raiment.

“How much?” I asked with some anticipation. Our little town was about to explode in population. These little monsters were about to be much easier to handle.

“1000 or so.”