Chapter 16: The High-Speed Pivot
"The Forest Alliance begins with you," Treyni says, her form beginning to dissolve into a swirl of emerald leaves.
"Don't forget the paperwork," I pulse, my dark, obsidian-sheened body vibrating with a new, sharper frequency. "I expect a full audit of the marshland resources once the Orcs are evicted."
Rimuru is already bouncing toward the door. "Everyone! We're heading out to meet the Lizardmen! We've got to stop the Orc Lord before he eats everything!"
The Goblins and Kijin roar in approval. I, however, am staring at the distance between the village and the marshlands. It's a long walk through mud and underbrush. A walk that represents a significant waste of my kinetic capital.
Notice. Sub-skill [Spatial Motion] is calibrated. User may now bypass physical terrain by folding local coordinates. Suggestion: Use the Kijin's elemental signatures as anchors for long-range jumps to reduce magicule friction.
Azathoth, finally. A shortcut that doesn't involve a wolf's back. Let's see if this 'Copy' was worth the processing time.
I focus on the coordinates of the vanguard.
[Law Manipulation – Copy]
[Spatial Motion]
I don't dash. I don't ripple. I simply cease to be in the war room and appear fifty yards ahead of the column, hovering silently over a patch of moss.
Activation successful. Magicule consumption: 0.2%. Note: Body density remains stable due to copied Kijin laws. User is currently 300% more durable than 'Baseline Slime'.
Not bad. I'm moving at the speed of a high-frequency trade while looking like I haven't even exerted myself. That's the brand consistency I live for.
"Whoa! Shinji!" Rimuru yells, catching up on Ranga. "How did you do that? You just... blinked!"
"I've optimized my transit protocols," I pulse, my voice colder and more resonant. "Walking is for those with too much time and not enough magicules. Now, let's talk about the Orc vanguard. Azathoth, give me a scan."
Report. Orc vanguard detected 2 kilometers West. Numbers: 2,000. They are currently consuming a local swamp-eel nest. Their magicule aura is erratic, suggesting the presence of [Starving].
Starving, huh? A biological compulsion to consume at the cost of sanity. It's like a Black Friday sale, but with more cannibalism.
"Benimaru," I broadcast, my voice carrying the weight of a lead executive. "Target identified. Two thousand Orcs, two kilometers out. They're distracted. I want a clean, low-cost elimination. No drawn-out brawls. We aren't here for the drama; we're here for the results."
"Understood," Benimaru says, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. His red hair seems to flicker with heat. "We will show them the price of crossing the Kijin."
"Prices are my department," I retort. "You just handle the 'write-offs'."
I look toward the horizon where the dark clouds of the Orc army loom. My new, denser membrane feels tight—efficient.
Current Magicule Reserves: 97.3%. Location: Jura Forest, En Route to Marshlands. Status: First skirmish imminent. Assets: Enhanced.