The healing potions from the cave plants worked on magical logic to render their effects. No, I knew it was magic; what I meant was the type of healing it rendered was undefinable. It was not temporal—healing or restoration—nor was it regeneration.
No, it was just the perfect reinstatement of perfect health. What was perfect health? What classified as a bad effect?
Apparently anything, because I was certain the potion cured trauma somehow. Or just straight-up nervousness or laziness. Or even bad luck.
I decided that I needed to analyze it more, because it was definitely a very potent magical product. Thus, I invoked my advanced healing spell on the remaining goblins. Something I called Idealism—I was going to start adding gibberish to my invocations for pure style.
"Full Heal!"
The last goblin was healed, eyes shooting open in surprise as soon as the effect of their cause was erased. Yeah, I was now fooling history—this was obviously inspired. Basically, I was just telling occurred events that no events happened on that day. However, while I was definitely raping causality, I wasn't entirely erasing it.
So the victim still remembered events, but it was like remembering something that had no supporting actuality. No emotional weight. No experienced suffering. Just knowing.
That was Idealism. The coolest part was that it worked on any event in an individual. I could just… erase experience and instill true doubt. I could also inscribe experience to a being without the supporting knowing—a sort of "I just know how it's done" scenario.
I was going to hell for this.
The aim was that I was going to apply it to Veldora's situation after I analyzed that skill. The weird part was, I was a hundred percent sure that this was going to work. I would be rewriting the event of that day but isolating the results to only be different today—or the today in which Veldora would be released.
I yawned a bit, issuing a clean spell on the room and goblins. Then I clothed them in swagger. As it was their wont, they were quick to start worshipping me.
Straight up bowing and praying.
"No, none of that," I shooed them away. These goblins were so generous with their gratitude. Unfortunately, they were not busty elven women or sexy slimes—I wondered what would actually happen if I met this so-called "sexy slime."
It would probably be a pink ball of jello. Plus, I didn't have any instinctual know-how of slime mating or any kind of attraction toward slimes. Still, it was funny to think that I could just… meet a sexy slime one day.
As for busty elves, I was crazy attracted to those. I was definitely going elf hunting in the future—I was losing this virginity even if it killed me. I could take Gobta with me.
I let out a sigh as the last of the goblins left the little dingy shelter these loveable creatures called a medical bay. They probably got worse from being here than actually bleeding out in the open.
I was being a tad bit dramatic, wasn't I?
I brushed my hands against my clothes, transferring the nonexistent debris upon my black long-sleeved bottleneck shirt—it was nice being clothed in modern finery. Though, I was set to adorn a more era-appropriate style.
Perhaps a simple shirt, a green pair of pants, boots, a belt with an added pouch, a sword—just filler for style—and a cloak. That would be a proper traveler's attire.
But…
"…that wouldn't be elegant," I muttered with a frown. I was owed the impression of nobility or at least refinement. "Nah, I'm rocking a full-on suit with a matrix jacket."
It would be between that and flowing noble-esque outfits. I'd branch out as time progressed.
Alone in the hut, I wondered how I was going to teach independence and sustainability to the goblins. I could just… do everything for them; I was certainly capable of that. Better still, it would be much easier. But it went against that "teach a man to fish" philosophy.
Additionally, I was itching to apply my construction knowledge to something apart from brain-dead infrastructure.
I also wanted to impart the knowledge of construction and planning—contractor goblins were a nice fantasy. Not to mention that the programmer was convinced that he could be a better governor than all the other people he knew. This was a perfect opportunity.
I looked at the shelter's door, then felt my nerves settle. "I'm really going to be playing Kingdom Builder in real life, aren't I?"
——
Yes, I would—and I already was. So here was the rundown of events.
After coming out of the hut and seeing the goblins already gathered—they were obedient little guys—I had announced to them my intentions to bestow them names and teach them self-sufficiency that wasn't married to struggle. Expectedly, they were thrilled, though the chief was a bit worried. He was a smart and caring fellow.
"Are you sure you want to name us all, Great One?" That was the clean version of what he said. And I was quite sure. I even had a plan for it.
I started with him, naming him after his deceased son—I was doing a saint's work here. He was elated, and I was so impressed at how much his evolution cost in magicules. It was three hobgoblins' worth, but his potential wasn't even half what it cost for the evolution of an average goblin.
There was a science to that development.
So, I named him Rigurd. When I invoked True Self after offloading all three data packages into his psyche—I was making him an actual governor and administrative director—I was a bit surprised at the person he became.
Rigurd was big, half a head taller than me, and he had wondrous muscles and enthusiasm. He was also a lot younger, looking like someone in his mid-thirties. He was also strong—like very strong. Shockwave punches, fast as a fly, and tough as a rock.
Aside from the mutated beasts from the cave, he was probably the most barbarically strong individual I knew. I suppose being a goblin chief had its perks—that was another karmic mystery. Rigurd had no right to be this strong, and yet the mere title and goblins' collective recognition of him as a unique individual allowed him the manifestation of real power after his naming.
I was sure I could manipulate that prerequisite. But not now.
Rigurd also got a skill—a Unique Skill, Chief. That was impressive; however, it ate up all his soul and didn't behave like a normal Unique Skill. It had no active wielding; everything was passive.
It was also cheap as dirt—barely any magicule expenditure because Rigurd had no actual reserves to brag about—less than his pre-evolution reserves. Lastly, it had no… conceptual weight to it.
I mean, sure, Great Sage had no conceptual weight to it as well, but it was a very broken Unique Skill even in comparison to something as conceptually potent as Predator. But Rigurd's Chief was just a bunch of self-affecting sub-skills like Eager, Confidence, Second Wind, Memory, and all the other pseudo-mundane filler.
It just made him a better politician.
Still, I was impressed, so I gave him a set of suits. "You'll be needing to inspire reliability and confidence at all times—well, maybe not during your downtime," I told him. "Just don't be scummy and power-hungry."
"I promise not to disappoint you, Lord Rimuru," he said enthusiastically and bowed on all fours—he was doing that a lot. "I'll see that the grand future you imagine for us is realized."
Well, I would be there alongside you, so I sort of know that it would be realized. However, I did decide that Rigurd was more qualified to handle the governance for the most part. I'd just be the person shouting orders and staring foreign diplomats down.
"It certainly didn't take me long to go mad with power, did it?" I chuckled.
But back to the Naming Ceremony—this was set to be a holiday in the future. I named more monsters, mainly the more grown men and women. About a hundred before I needed to replenish my reserves. I created a spell for that little thing.
"Slaverei!"
Yeah, I just straight-up nabbed that idea and its name.
Though my magicule suction crown was all up in the sky and greedily taking in abnormal energies without discrimination—I was institutionalizing this slavery. Only ambient magicules were absorbed, and I did have a special feature that filtered the bad magicules—ones expelled by others—and only took the true ambient ones.
Also, the act of naming had expanded my reserves by a large margin and made my magicules more potent. Unfortunately, my potential was stagnant, but that was inconsequential.
Anyway, Slaverei quickened my replenishment in a few hours what should have taken a day. But I wasn't idle while replenishing; I took the evolved goblins and we started bringing down the village.
"We'll rebuild this into something more fitting and secure," I told them, whilst also taking part in the construction. It was actual labor, you see, and we only used Earth Control for the most demanding parts. My thinking was that this act of actual labor would inspire appreciation for the settlements we were building.
But would it? I didn't know or care. This was fun work, and I could tell everyone was having a good time.
So, from three to five in the afternoon, we labored and cleared out the place. After that, I conjured some temporary tents. We would use them for a few months, I guessed. Then it'd be the good life.
"…We'll be needing a way to harvest and manufacture the necessary materials, Lord Rimuru," Rigurd told me as we enjoyed a hefty feast—the goblins were enjoying it with a passion. Modern food was the best. "There's also the matter of security and expansion—more goblins are set to join us after word travels…"
I nodded, smiling. "You don't need to worry, Rigurd. Remember, it's self-sufficiency. The others have the skills and knowledge to manufacture and look for resources."
I wasn't about to rob the goblins of industrialization. Continuing, I told the chief this: "They will be grouped into categories once the naming is done—though the security forces will need more thought."
"I was thinking that my son would lead it; he is quite the notable warrior," Rigurd said proudly.
I smiled; at least it was good to know that nepotism was still alive. However, he wasn't wrong; the bandana goblin—I had yet to name him—was certainly the most martial of the lot.
Unfortunately, I didn't have any actual martial arts to give. I wasn't strong in that manner, after all.
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Extra chapters on my Pa-treon/BoombaTheSaint. I'll be taking this opportunity to bring Echoes of the Seven up to date. Bye