“After that, I suppose it all comes down to advertising.”
Mjöllmile pulled me back down to earth before I floated off too much into fantasizing about my dreams. No, no need to go too crazy yet. It’d take time to develop rails, much less the trains that’d run on them. First, we needed to pull off this massive party without a hitch and make a good impression on the world.
“You’re right. This isn’t advertising, exactly, but I’ve sent out invitations to world leaders. Journalists from several nations are working with me as well, so I think we should see a pretty decent turnout.”
“Oh? Good to hear, Sir Rimuru. I was just thinking that we’d best start negotiating with royalty and nobility before the winter thaw if we want them to join in, but you’ve already planned ahead, eh? In that case, I’ll contact the larger merchant operations I work with and let them know about the festival.”
“Could you do that?”
“Certainly. I’m already prepared to, in fact. I intended to send out messengers once I scoped out how things were in Tempest.”
Mjöllmile grinned at me. He was so useful.
“Ah, my hat goes off to you, Mollie. You never leave a single stone unturned, do you?”
“I could say the same of you, Sir Rimuru! The foresight you’ve shown with all this is a far cry from anything I could ever manage.”
Another exchange of knowing smiles. I think Mjöllmile’s far more of a schemer than I ever was, but I’ll take the compliment.
“Sir Rimuru,” he continued, turning more serious as he stood up, “there is no way this plan of yours could possibly fail. If you have what it takes to build a nation up this far, I’m sure you could guide just about anyone to success!”
I’m not sure about “anyone,” but he did help put my mind at ease. I suppose Mjöllmile was impressed enough by our town’s food, environment, and creature comforts. That’s why he was reacting that way, and perhaps it was a sign of our future promised success, even.
I stood up and extended a hand to him. “I’m counting on you, Mollie!”
“Certainly,” he replied, gripping it in a handshake. From that moment, I was sure we had it in the bag.
That night, we held a big dinner at Mjöllmile’s mansion. Afterward, he and I were relaxing together over some tea when he whispered something to a servant and had him go fetch someone. This someone, or rather someones, turned out to be Bydd and Gob’emon.
I had thought Gob’emon was staying undercover as he kept watch over Mjöllmile. If he was here, had he introduced himself to the guy or something? And that wasn’t even my main concern.
“Sir Rimuru, I understand that kind Gob’emon here was sent to protect me?”
I thought about playing dumb for a moment, but I guess Mjöllmile already knew he was here on my orders. No point trying to hide it.
“Well, yeah— But, Gob’emon, uh, what’s up with your arm?”
I kinda had to ask. Half of his right one was missing, ending at the elbow.
“S-Sir Rimuru! My—my sincerest apologies!” He kneeled down, head virtually to the floor. “I made a terrible mistake and exposed my identity to Mjöllmile. This arm was my punishment, you see.”
I turned to Mjöllmile for some kind of explanation.
“Now, now, Gob’emon. Go on, lift your head up. Have some tea to calm you down.”
He sat Gob’emon on a seat and offered him tea from a servant. Once we were all in place, he turned to me and went into the story.
It turned out that Mjöllmile had, indeed, been attacked several times since our meeting. Mjöllmile, being no fool, ordered Bydd and the rest of his security detail to redouble their efforts, but there were a few close scrapes that were foiled thanks to the assistance of an anonymous bystander—Gob’emon, in other words. There were considerably more assaults than I had planned for, and I guess that’s how he got spotted. Mjöllmile apparently figured he must’ve been with me and kept pretending not to notice out of politeness.
And then it happened. Viscount Cazac, whether he lost his temper or whatever, decided to get serious.
“So I left my business to a trusted associate and left for this country. Once I reached the highway, I assumed I was safe and nobody would try to touch me. But…”
The highway was full of adventurers, traveling merchants, and patrolmen. I had teams clear the roads daily to keep them free of snow, so the winter hadn’t slowed the flow of people much. An attack in such a well-traversed area was unthinkable, and even if it happened, our security team would be right on the scene. Someone like Mjöllmile, who traveled the highways frequently, was fully aware of that.
But as if to prove his confidence was misplaced, his party came under attack at a village near the far end of the highway.
“A village? You mean the one where Bydd tried to rip— Um, where Bydd and I first met?”
“Yes! The very same, Sir Rimuru!”
Bydd might have been Mjöllmile’s bodyguard now, but when I first met him, he was a pretty low-end swindler. It wasn’t worth bringing up past drama, though, so I glossed over it. He had shown up to help defend Gob’emon, and now they were both behind Mjöllmile as he explained matters.
As Bydd then explained, they were accosted by a wagon painted black, out of which popped monsters—several of them, all ranked B. As an ex–C fighter, Bydd and his team couldn’t do much, and they were all about to say their prayers but still did their best to evacuate the villagers and buy some
