“Yeah, that Gob’emon guy saved all our lives, man!”
“That he did,” Mjöllmile added. “Not just me, but everyone who was there owes him a word of thanks.”
“But I still failed…”
Gob’emon didn’t seem interested in the compliment. He wasn’t the sort to lose out to this monster band, and apparently he had dispatched them in short order. He then attempted to capture the criminal leading them, only to go eye-to-eye with a basilisk, a B-plus threat. It spewed petrifying gas at Gob’emon’s right arm, and he hurriedly amputated it himself before it spread any further. That bought the black wagon enough time to speed off.
“Failed? Meaning you didn’t catch the guy behind it?”
“Yes, but I let Mjöllmile notice me…”
That’s what he’s talking about?!
“I don’t really care about that. Your bodyguard duty was the more important thing. Plus, like, fix that thing, dude!”
I extracted a potion from my Stomach and attempted to hand it to Gob’emon. He bit his lip, refusing to take it.
“No, this injury is the result of my inexperience. I was unable to defeat the basilisk by myself and compelled to seek the aid of Bydd and his team. It was terrible of me, and while missing an arm presents its difficulties, it will grow back over time…”
What a stubborn goblin. Or proud, I guess you could say, but he was trying to do way too much by himself.
“Gob’emon, are you embarrassed that you needed Bydd’s help?”
“Well…my job was to guard Mjöllmile, but I exposed him to danger instead…”
“Hang on, Gob’emon. You’re misunderstanding this.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah. You’re trying to do everything alone. That’s the difference between you and Gobta.”
That summed it up, really—the ability to work with the people underneath them. Gobta never tried to do all the work himself. Even when fighting powerful monsters, he was always issuing commands to his team. For the easier jobs, he barely even lifted a finger—or maybe he was just deliberately being lazy, much of the time—but in terms of encouraging growth among his team, Benimaru called Gobta a better commander.
With Gob’emon, if a strong monster reared its ugly head, he’d leap right in front and try to fight it. I could understand his line of thinking—he was talented, so this would make things faster—but doing that accomplished nothing for the rest of his team. And what if Gob’emon fell? It’d leave his troop defenseless. I’d be deeply concerned about their chances of surviving the encounter.
That was the reasoning behind Benimaru’s evaluation, and that’s why I wanted Gob’emon to learn how to rely on others. Mjöllmile was great at handling his people, and I thought using him as an example would help Gob’emon grow a little.
“…That’s exactly why you need to learn how to trust in your friends more. I’m not saying to throw them recklessly into danger. I’m saying that you need to conserve a little bit of your strength and give them a hand if things get hairy.”
“I—I…”
“Everybody knows how strong you are. But that’s not enough to lead a unit.”
“......”
Gob’emon hung his head, and I took the opportunity to throw the healing potion at him.
“Ah?!”
The fluid spilled all over his right arm, which visibly regenerated before us.
“Gob’emon, I want you to stay with Mjöllmile for a while. You can train Bydd and his men if you like, or just chill out and relax for a bit. I doubt Mollie needs anyone to guard him in town, so take a moment to reevaluate yourself a little, all right?”
“L-Lord Rimuru…”
“Because, I mean, none of us can really do anything by ourselves, okay? I think you learned that with your mistake there. Just think about what you should do next time, and you’ll find the answer, okay?”
I smiled at him, took the katana off my belt, and presented it to him. He froze, eyes wide open in surprise.
“Take it.”
“B-but… My mission…”
“Look, you got Mollie here in one piece, right? I’ll be expecting even bigger things from you now. Treat this sword as a mirror into your heart, and use it every night to try looking into yourself.”
If Gob’emon could get over his arrogance and pride, we’d be able to rely on him more than ever.
“Yes sir! Your loyal servant Gob’emon shall live up to your expectations!”
There was fire in his eyes. He always was a goblin of ambition—giving him a goal to strive for should make the growth process go faster. I was sure he’d live up to every bit of my expectations.
“All right, Mollie, you mind taking care of Gob’emon for me?”
“Ha-ha-ha! I don’t mind one bit. I was just about to ask you the very same favor! Bydd, we’ve got Sir Rimuru’s permission. I hope you’re ready for some training from Gob’emon!”
Looks like he was already welcome on the team. Gob’emon was now a sort of houseguest of Mjöllmile’s, free to do whatever he wanted.
Once I left the mansion, I looked at the night sky. The assorted constellations up there were twinkling bright, although none looked like what I saw on Earth.
I wondered about that attacker, though. Was it really Cazac behind that? I doubted a nobleman on the level of a viscount had the resources to stage an assassination attempt with multiple monsters. And B rankers were one thing, but B-plus? It’d be impossible to tame one of those guys unless you were some kind of tycoon from a wealthy nation…
…Wait a second. If you wanted to tame a B-plus monster, would money be enough to achieve that?
Understood. Thegis, a summoner rated A-minus, once summoned a B-plus Lesser Demon. It is not out of the question for someone to tame a basilisk.
Ahhh, summon magic could do the trick, huh? That’d sure be quicker than carting the monster around on a wagon. But while Shuna’s barrier kept external magic from entering town, the highways were wholly unprotected.
“Better beef up our security,” I whispered to myself as I set off.
Mjöllmile had been gracefully accepted by the residents of Tempest. I introduced him to my
