Chapter 37

<??? pov>

A dragon attacked the town, with enough force to equal an entire army. A calamity-level foe, absolutely. Blumund immediately declared a state of emergency and placed the nation on high alert. I was one of the many people they enlisted.

A calamity-class monster was usually discovered once every several years, but this one was different. No halfhearted strike would ever faze a dragon, and the nation's knight corps was too offensively weak to provide any support at all. I myself provided all the offense I could for the effort, but my sword could do little against such a foe, and I was hardly much of a threat.

If something wasn't done, it would ultimately lead to thousands of deaths. So I decided to call upon Ifrit, sleeping within my body this whole time.

The dragon's stone-melting breath enveloped my body— but because I'd merged with Ifrit, it felt like nothing more than a passing breeze. By the time it realized I was impervious to its breath—that I was a force to be feared—it was already too late. Waves of white-hot flame whipped out of my hands, binding the dragon before it could flee. In another few moments, it was burned alive.

I, on the other hand, was left in a coma for a week afterward. The effort had sapped my magical force. I was aging now, and I couldn't focus my spirit as well as I could in earlier years. As my spirit flagged, so did my magic. Ifrit, and my relationship with him, gave me more than enough magical energy to work with, but the vitality I needed to harness it was dying on me. I had failed to notice it draining, thanks to my body's lack of aging. I'd had Ifrit held down that whole time—no wonder I'd been using up so much of it.

All's well that ends well—the dragon was defeated, after all—but if I had taken one step further, I might have released an enraged Ifrit, a concept far more terrifying than any dragon. I recalled the past, my face tensed and pale. If I wasn't careful, I could very well incinerate the people I swore to protect.

It might be time, I thought, to call it a day. If I let myself grow any weaker, Ifrit could go berserk on me. Retirement was something I had to consider, sooner or later.

I talked the matter over with Heinz, one of the managers who ran things around the Society of Adventurers. "If that's what it is," he said, "I'd advise you to travel to the kingdom of Englesia. They're looking for teachers in basic battle techniques over there. There's lots of ex-adventurers out there, but if you can teach your skills to people, you'll never be hurting for a job."

He handed me a reference letter I could use.

"Thank you," I replied. "You've done so much for me."

"Ah, forget about it," he protested. "We're the ones who should be thanking you, Shizu! You've been a rock for all of us." He blushed. "Well, have a nice trip, I suppose. If you get some free time, come back and visit."

They all saw me off before I left for good. It made me feel as if I belonged to this place. As if I had for years. I couldn't believe how happy it made me.

So it was that, toward the end of my career, I made the switch from adventurer to instructor.

<Vegito pov>

So there we are. Return to the goblin village. It's only been about two weeks, but I'm actually starting to miss it a little bit. Assuming you want to call it a village at all. It was more of an empty space with a fence around it.

While we were away, several simple tents had been set up around the area. At least there are signs of progress. I saw a large iron pot resting on the remains of the central bonfire. Goblin cooking used to be all about spitting-grilling—but now they're adding simmering to the mix!

This is a truly extraordinary development. Where did they get that thing? Taking a closer look, I realized it was made from a large tortoise shell. Man, how much are they expanding their hunting grounds while we're gone? I'm glad they at least kept their base secure.

The resident hobgoblins saw our quickly returning party, welcoming us with cheers and applause. I completely forgot to bring souvenirs, but given the monster skins and such I see drying up here and there—the result of their hunting, no doubt—I'm sure the dwarves will soon have everyone clothed and dressed. I'd like the goblins to make their own later, but let's go one step at a time.

Rimuru tried to look around for Rigurd so he could introduce the dwarves to him. but he didn't have to. He immediately ran towards us. I thought he was just happy to see us but instead he had something bothering him.

"Welcome back!" he said before I could ask. "I don't like bothering you so soon after returning, Rimuru-sama, Vegito-sama, but we have a guest…"

'Visitors? ...But I don't remember having any friends.'

I decided to let the dwarves show up. They'll be living here for a while, and I'm sure they'll want to know what it's like. Rimuru also stored the tools he had brought with him in the empty tent, thinking the cover would at least offer some protection against the weather.

Leaving our new occupants to Rigur, Rimuru and I had the elder guide the two of us to our guests. He leads us both into one of the larger tents, which has been converted into a sort of meeting room. 'Who is that? I guess I'll find out,' I thought as I walked in.

As soon as I pass under cover, I stop. Inside was a group of goblins—the normal kind. Some of them were well dressed, each accompanied by several maids. Some elders and their guards, perhaps? Nobody is armed. Not that I mind.

Before me and Rimuru could ask what was wrong, the goblins prostrated themselves on the floor.

"""It is an honor to meet you, O great sirs!""" they all shouted in unison. ""Please, hear our most sincere wishes!"""

Great sir? I guess they meant me and Rimuru, but really, that's going too far. However, they are sure of it. Their eyes are either longing or firm. No one knows what they want but Rimuru thought we would listen to them.

"All right. Carry on."

"Oh, thank you for your generosity!" shouted one of the elders.

"We are all here to join your followers, sir!"

"Please, give us your generous kindness!!""" said the others as they remained on the floor, eyes shifting to me and Rimuru, before bowing low.

*So how was it?* - Rimuru

*They don't mean anything, they're all good people, so don't worry* - Vegito

With my Ki sense sensing they have no intentions other than joining and becoming our subordinates, Rimuru and I agreed with that.

The guards accompanying the goblin elder had returned to their respective villages to report the news. So what do they have to say?

In short, their story goes like this...

It all started with the recent disturbance of order around the forest. The other villages had de facto abandoned Rigurd during the direwolf raid partly because they had no combat resources left to assign to that place.

All the intelligent races in this forest—the Orcs, Lizardmen, and Ogres as well—were advancing and staking their claim in this forest. There had been smaller arguments along those lines before, but there was also a kind of tacit agreement that no one was going to let it get to armed conflict. However, with the loss of their only and true ranger, there are more than a few races out there ready to blow off steam.

Monsters, in general, have a tendency to exaggerate and display strength on a regular basis. Now every village in the forest quickly prepared themselves to beat up a few people. It's only a matter of time before something gets the ball rolling. And the goblins, the weakest kids on the block, were doomed to let most of these other races destroy them.

This, of course, worried most of the other goblin elders. As they engage in this cross-forest territory war, it will all be over for them. So they called a conference, talked about it for a few days, and were too dumb to come up with any viable ideas.

Not that I expected them to...

News of the impending Direwolf attack came in the midst of this, but their attention was focused elsewhere. Rigurd's village was left to die and be forgotten. Their conversation continued, with no miracle in sight.

Just as the village's food supplies are running low, they hear news of another new jungle threat—rumors of large, dark beasts, piloted by men riding on their backs. They sped through the trees, as if across plains, and they did beat the stronger forest monsters. Who are they? The concept made the goblins tremble with fear and surprise.

They were apparently... former goblins.

Opinion is divided on how to handle this. Some suggest going to them immediately and begging for protection. Others found the story too incredible to swallow, worried it might be a trap and refused to believe that the former goblins had no reason to trick them.

Traps or not, however, there's no guarantee this new race will accept them. Especially since they left Rigurd village. Forgiveness appears as a vain hope for many elders. Even goblins can be shy, it turns out.

In the end, realizing that they had reached their wit's end, the conference ended with no concrete conclusion. So the party seeking our refuge decided to head here.

Now it all makes sense. Still, they are quite selfish, aren't they? But we're talking about weak, stupid, and helpless goblins, so I should know better. After all, we agreed to accept them.

"Anyone who wants to come, please," Rimuru said to the goblin representatives. That was enough to send them back home for now.