“Do you? Well, keep up the good work. Now listen, Mjöllmile’s someone very important to me. I need you to keep him safe—without letting him notice, if possible. I think you could learn a lot from the way he sways people’s minds. His financial acumen’s enough to move the folks around him, but it’s not just that. Think of it as a case study while you’re guarding him.”
“Yes sir! I will keep that in mind as I execute my duty!”
Gob’emon was up for it. The way Benimaru described him, he tended to rely too much on his own abilities, downplaying the strengths of the people below or alongside him. That’s one reason he failed to reach captain, despite being much more physically gifted than Gobta. If he could learn to be more of a team player, that captain’s job could be his before long. I hoped he could grow into the rank.
“If you can carry this out and learn something from it, report back to me afterward. I’ll give you this katana of mine as a reward.”
Kurobe had contacted me earlier to report that my personal sword was complete. I wouldn’t need this one any longer. It was just a temporary weapon, but it was synced up with my aura well enough that I liked the results I got from it. I brought it in for maintenance after the Hinata battle, but Kurobe was pretty impressed by what he saw. I figured it was a nice enough carrot to dangle.
Gob’emon’s eyes opened wide with excitement. “Y-you will?!”
“Sure. I think you’re gifted enough to make use of this. But stay diligent, all right? Prove to me you deserve it.”
“Yes sir! I will live up to your expectations!”
He immediately went into Mjöllmile guard-duty mode. That was almost too sly of me, offering that sword to him, but hopefully I got my point across. You had to earn the trust of your subordinates. Like how people used to think about obligation and duty, if you didn’t look out for and provide service to each other, it would wreck the whole master-servant relationship. I know I’m not exactly a stellar example of the ideal boss, but still, I hoped Gob’emon would answer my call in his own way.
I had now distributed all my invitations. Now we just had to prep for the big day. It needed to be a festival like none before. As I thought over everything we needed for it, I could already feel my heart racing.
CHAPTER 3THE PREPARATIONS
In a hastily prepared meeting room, two suspicious-looking people sat quietly. Or not exactly—upon closer inspection, there was also a third, smaller figure, a foot or so tall, with dragonfly-like wings on her back. The two other people in the room were seated facing her—Ramiris and two of her servants, Beretta and Treyni.
The small pixie bashed a fist against the small desk in front of her.
“This is exactly why I thought none of this was working!” she groused, rubbing her hand. “I told you we needed to move outta here!!”
“Correct as always, Lady Ramiris,” Treyni agreed, watching her affectionately. “Truly, a most brilliant idea!”
“Right? Isn’t it, though?”
Ramiris gave Treyni a satisfied nod.
Beretta was less than convinced. “One moment, please. Brilliant though the idea may be, where do you intend to move to? And could you explain why?”
Why do I have to do this? he thought. Treyni, his colleague, was a thoughtful, detail-oriented, hardworking woman. She had a good reputation among the spirits, allowing her to manage Ramiris’s labyrinth all by herself. That was something Beretta couldn’t do, and there was no doubting her usefulness to Ramiris. But there was an issue: Treyni, ever the loyal servant to Ramiris, spoiled her far too much. She agreed with everything Ramiris said, never doubting it for a moment. Someone needed to stop this before it led to trouble.
The ex-demon Beretta couldn’t help but laugh at himself a little. Oh dear… I am not here serving Lady Ramiris because I want to serve that role…
To someone like him, who did enjoy Ramiris’s company very much, getting bossed around all the time wasn’t a concern. What did concern him—albeit only slightly—was how his lone coworker here was an unabashed yes-man. Unfortunately, it was an ironclad rule of life that the hardest-working people tended to be the ones who lost out in the end. If you blow the whistle and warn about the dangers ahead, it’s usually your job to clean up the mess that results—something Beretta was about to learn the hard way.
“Great question, Beretta! Listen, aren’t you bored being in here at all? There’s nothing to do for fun in this place. The only diversion we have is building golems, and that’s about it. Barely anyone even comes to visit us! But over there, they’ve got all kinds of stuff. So I figure, you know, I’ll just invite myself over!”
Ramiris put forth what she must’ve thought was a convincing case. It just made Beretta sigh inside. He wasn’t dead set against it himself, but he remembered what the demon lord Rimuru was like and suspected getting his permission would be a problem. If she tried moving there now, he could easily envision her getting thrown out on her ear. Treyni must have known that, but all she had to offer was her unequivocal agreement.
“But, Lady Ramiris, didn’t Sir Rimuru already turn you down once?”
Beretta had to say it. She had already tried it. Without a better excuse, all she’d do was incur Rimuru’s wrath. Maybe Ramiris was oblivious to this fact, but to Beretta, that was the biggest problem of all.
“Come now, Beretta,” his unreliable coworker said. “You’re overthinking this! Sir Rimuru is such a nice young man. He’d never be cruel enough to deny the dreams of someone as cute
