Still, Gazel could make out a few familiar figures in the images—the magic-born he had spoken with before.
They’ve grown stronger. Our full force may not be enough to defeat them now…
Some of the minsters were prattling on about the potential danger, others loudly disagreeing with them. They were both correct, most likely. Gazel tuned out the noise, pondering to himself. Maybe, he began to think, he should have wiped him out before he became this much of a threat.
…No. Rimuru was a monster with reason. He hoped for amicable relations with human countries. The town he built, the people he saved, the nations he’d connected with were all ample proof of that. If Rimuru was this unthinking brute who couldn’t empathize with people, humankind would be exposed to unprecedented threats right now.
But there’s no need to worry about that. Heh-heh-heh… He wouldn’t ever think about wiping out humankind. Not Rimuru!
Gazel was convinced of it. Rimuru killed the demon lord Clayman; he did not kill Hinata. That alone indicated to Gazel that Rimuru went out of his way to avoid antagonizing humankind. It was easy for him to drone out the minister’s concerns with laughter.
“Heh-heh-heh. No need to worry! I will remind you that Rimuru remains my erstwhile partner in the martial arts. It would also behoove you to remember that we have backed the nation of Tempest earlier than any other nation. From him, we have earned the most trust he has given anyone. Do you intend to do away with that trust and doubt his intentions?”
He glared at the ministers, using some of his majesty to cow them into submission. It did the trick, restoring them to civility.
“Y-yes… Think of it that way, and it would be foolish to abandon our trade with them…”
“Quite. The goods we take from them have immeasurable appeal. And we’ve even transferred recovery potion manufacturing to them.”
“Whether in the form of technology exchange or anything else, a relationship must be based on trust. Why is there any need for us to panic?”
“Yes, no need to worry at this point…”
They glanced at each other and smiled somewhat sheepishly. Gazel grinned at them.
To the Dwarven Kingdom, which valued fairness as a core tenet, being a demon lord was no reason for discrimination. All the ministers seemed to remember that now, and Gazel was glad to see it. Yes, Rimuru had obtained astonishing strength, but looking back at past events, there was no doubting his trustworthiness as a person. They were still building a friendly relationship—keeping that going was the obvious choice.
Besides, Rimuru said he was an otherworlder, bringing with him knowledge of other planets and the drive to bring it to life with his vast litany of skills. The fact that he was pushing all this development forward mainly to satisfy his own self-centered cravings for luxury was nothing short of fascinating.
Plus, his followers always carried out his orders with a smile, no matter how outlandish. Tempest and the Dwarven Kingdom were already connected with a highway, winding its way over mountains and through valleys and providing safe passage for anyone who used it. Rimuru’s monsters blazed that trail, and all it took was an idea and a simple word or two from him. Things that otherworlders of the past abandoned as being too costly or labor-intensive were no obstacle to Rimuru. He had the core strength needed to brute-force it all to life.
He had a drive, a drive backed by an army of loyal monsters. How envious I am, Gazel mused. No matter how difficult the problem, Rimuru could just offhandedly say “Figure it out! Good luck!” and his monsters would do their level best. They all assumed that was normal; none doubted him. Maybe it was that slime’s most fearsome asset of all—that genius-level ability to trick people into doing his bidding.
For better or for worse, this demon lord was an entertaining one.
And perhaps he’s been tricking me, too, this whole time…
But, Gazel reasoned, that was just fine. If Rimuru was pursuing the kind of world he saw as ideal, what would result from that? Gazel was keenly interested in finding out. He wanted to see it. It’d trigger a Temma War, a struggle between mortals and angels, and Rimuru knew that. But he’d probably just fight back. Tempest had a terrifying military force backing it up—perhaps terrifying enough to fend off a horde of angels. And Gazel was willing to cheer him on.
“The demon lord Rimuru and I may not be related by blood, but we are brothers,” he growled, his voice dominating the meeting hall. “As long as he does not lose his heart for humanity, let us provide him with as much support as we can—and let us welcome a new era and the budding of a new civilization. If anyone objects to this, let them speak now.”
That was, in effect, the king of the dwarves announcing his decision.
Vaughn, the admiral paladin on the force, smiled. “You’ve got me on your side, King Gazel. You’re the boss!”
“My lord,” stated the night assassin Henrietta, “I will always serve as your shadow and follow every whim of your heart.”
“Yes, do what you like. I am old, with little time left to live, but if my last few years may be happy ones, I will follow you as far as you may go, my lord.”
Jaine still looked pretty healthy, despite her words. This was just her way of saying that Gazel enjoyed her support no matter what happened.
Finally, Dolph, leader of the Pegasus
