It certainly wasn’t the first time Ramiris had demonstrated a desire to move here. This hut—which served as an entrance to her full residence—was all the real estate she really needed.
“Okay. So you tried building it here, and the gate guard stopped you. He was getting in your way, so you commanded Treyni to put him to sleep, and then Gobkyuu and these other craftsmen spotted you. Do I have this right?”
“Um… No, that’s not… Well, not exactly the case, I don’t think… Maybe?”
“Okay, so I do. Ramiris…”
“Um… Ha-ha-ha-ha…”
Ramiris must not know the meaning of the word no. She knew this was my territory, as recognized by the other demon lords, and that what she did was tantamount to staging an invasion. If war broke out over this, she’d have nothing to whine about.
But I paused a moment to think it over. Having this hut presented to me gave me an idea. Perhaps I should encourage this. Maybe give her permission to make a labyrinth here, even.
My conversation with Mjöllmile flashed before my eyes. We needed attractions that’d keep visitors coming again and again. These could be theaters, arenas, health spas, you name it, but I was still fishing around for other ideas. Do the same thing enough times, and you’re bound to get bored. We wouldn’t hold daily arena battles—I figured the tournaments would be more seasonal, maybe four a year. We could hold beginner-level matches daily, like with horse racing, but I didn’t see that attracting the connoisseurs among the nobility. We’d mainly be appealing to mass audiences—or maybe the adventurers stopping by.
If this town turned into the trade mecca I was planning, waves of merchants would be visiting, with adventurers serving as bodyguards. I wanted Tempest to turn into a base of operations for people like that. Adventurers could make money in assorted ways, one being monster hunting. Perhaps we could build a labyrinth for them and release some monsters inside? Would that attract a decent amount of daily traffic? A labyrinth is a dungeon, after all; if we invited people to help clear it out, that might attract adventurers with a completist bent.
This could work.
I looked at Ramiris, still smiling awkwardly up at me. I wasn’t too sure—okay, I was completely sure I couldn’t trust her, but maybe we could make something out of this. It was time to talk things over.
First, I asked Gobkyuu’s craftsmen to dismantle the hut for me. Since we already had the materials and everything, I decided to have it relocated for use as a break room for the gate guards.
Next, it was time for a strategic conference. We filed into the usual meeting hall, Gobkyuu in tow.
“Um, what is going to be the, er, happening to us?”
Ramiris’s anxiety was making her less and less coherent. Her eyes were fixed on me now, gauging my temper.
“You don’t have to be so nervous. If you’re trying to be polite, you’re failing miserably.”
I didn’t intend to do anything to her, no. If she was willing to accept my offer, I was willing to overlook her excessively bold overtures. But before that, we had to go over a few things.
“Gobkyuu, I was thinking we could build an emergency shelter space under the arena. Is that possible?”
“I’m not sure it’d be safe to have one directly under the arena stage, no matter how we try to work out the structural calculations. Any empty space under the floor would cause a cave-in at the first shock wave. But if we move this space a little, I think we can avoid that problem.”
“All right. I’d also like to have a door built down there.”
“…?!”
“A door, sir?”
“Right. Make it thick and heavy—and maybe put a bunch of carved stone tablets around the frame and stuff. It needs to look foreboding.”
“Would there be another shelter beyond the door?”
“Nah. No need for that. We just need the door, is all. Right, Ramiris?”
“R-Rimuru?! Are, are you saying that—that…?”
Gobkyuu was questioning my sanity, while Ramiris buzzed happily in the air next to him.
My proposal was simple. Basically, I wanted to have Ramiris build a dungeon and let her manage it. If she was gonna build an entrance in a simple wood hut, better to give her something that looked more the part instead, right? And given how all good dungeons extend deep underground, having it beneath a battle arena just seemed right to me. We could use the arena to train rookies during the off days, and I planned to have a potion shop on the premises. If we ran a dungeon on-site as well, I bet a tavern for adventurers looking for a quick pint on the way back from work would be a big hit. We’d make money off them, and Ramiris would have a home, a job, and a little spending money from me. It’d require mutual cooperation from both of us, but I thought it was a pretty neat idea.
Once I finished explaining all this, Ramiris burst into a flurry of shouting.
“Wh-what?! So—so do you mean that, maybe, not only could I build a labyrinth and live here, but you’ll even give me a full-fledged job?!”
“I guess so, if you’re willing to accept that.”
“Huh?! Okay, okay, so you’re saying that, uh, I no longer have to be the ‘jobless shut-in’ people accuse me of being?!”
The proposal must’ve been a big shock. She opened her eyes wide, babbling on like she had been struck by lightning. “I’m so glad, Lady Ramiris,” Treyni whispered, eyes welling up. Beretta, oddly enough, seemed to be smiling at me—I wondered if that fatigue I felt before was just an act. Did he want this? Maybe, maybe not,
