ch25

Just InCommunityForumMoreRegrets and Wishes: One More Chance by jnscrtm Anime » Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken/転生したらスライムだった件 Rated: T, English, Hurt/Comfort & Romance, [Rimuru T., Ciel], Words: 104k+, Favs: 190, Follows: 196, Published: May 20, 2022 Updated: Jun 13, 202221Chapter 25: 22 - The Survivors' Decision

CHAPTER 22 – THE SURVIVORS' DECISION

In a building, standing is a man near a window. His flame-like crimson hair is long and straight, tied in a single ponytail. His eyes are sharp and fierce-looking with orange-coloured iris and tear-like red markings flowing down from the bottom over the cheeks.

What he wears is a black clothing with a thick woollen collar. Covering over it is an armour with a colour scheme that matches his reddish skin. Protrude from his forehead two jet-black horns, clearly telling anyone who sees him that he's of the ogre race, one of the supposedly strongest races in the Great Forest of Jura.

The ogre is looking out the window, mind immersed in a deep contemplation. The curtain of night has fully been unveiled. In the eastern horizon, the sun slowly rises, showing its face to the world as its shining, warm light gradually erases and replaces the cold darkness.

In the town, several people can already be seen passing by on the road, busy for whatever thing they are doing and hurrying to whatever place they are heading to. Passes his eyesight a group of wolf-riding hobgoblins and goblinas led by the tallest and most well-built hobgoblin among them: the one wearing white bandana.

Other than the wolf-riding group, there are also some around the streets, who are carrying some tools and heavy materials. Those some of several people are none other than the hobgoblin workers in charge of the town's construction.

These hobgoblin workers must be working hard every day, he thinks. Yet, they all look so happy. From every single worker he has seen, no one wears a frown upon their faces. All he can see is just a smile.

He sometimes turns his eyes behind to check on his fellow ogres who are also inside the building. Many of them have woken up, but the condition inside the building is still very quiet.

Some of them are hugging their own legs while burying their face on their knees except the eyes; some are leaning on the wall; some are leaning on each other in pair or small group; some others are just sitting cross-legged.

None of them is feeling happy. Everyone is mourning. All of their eyes are staring blankly either at the floor or at the walls. That is understandable, for they have suffered a tragic loss. More than four-fifths of their friends, comrades, and families got killed in a fiery battle against ten thousand orcs.

Some sons and daughters lost their fathers, mothers, or even both; some parents lost their sons and daughters; some husbands lost their wives; some wives lost their husbands; some siblings lost their elder and younger siblings; and some were even left alone with no parents, no siblings, and no close relatives.

He himself also lost many of his loyal friends and families. From the small team he spearheaded near the end of that battle, only one member managed to survive. His elder brother-in-law and the wife got slaughtered when defending their one and only son who, either fortunately or unfortunately, survived and is now here sitting at a corner of the room.

As the chief, the highest leader of his village, he also bears on his shoulders so much feeling of guilt for failing to protect his people.

If there is anything more meaningful to be grateful for other than simply surviving, it is that his son, his daughter, and the other four whom he and his late team members swore to protect until the end are now in safe condition. It means they have successfully fulfilled their final oath.

He is too captivated in his thoughts; he doesn't realize that there are two people who are currently approaching the building where he is now. It's just when the handle of the entrance door produces a clicking sound, he snaps back to reality.

All eyes turn their gaze to the door in such a perfect sync.

The door has fully got opened. What they see are two petite, slender human-like figures. Their silky hairs have the same bluish-silver colour and their beautiful skins have the same snow-white colour reaching their waists.

At the first quick glance, they may look exactly the same. What differentiates them in terms of physical appearance are mainly their eye colours. One of them has lustrous gold eyes; the other one has gleaming red eyes.

They both have incredibly similar androgynous-looking faces. But if one takes a closer and gives more careful attention, the gold-eyed actually leans a bit more on the masculine side while the red-eyed leans a bit more on the feminine side.

Other than the slight physical differences, they are also wearing noticeably different outfits. The gold-eyed is wearing a shirt prominent in black, while the red-eyed is wearing a plain white shirt.

The red-eyed closes the door then both of them walk to the middle of the room's front side.

"Greetings, ogres," greets the gold-eyed while facing the ogres. "I'm so glad to see you in safe condition."

"I am sorry, but who might you be?" the ogres' chief asks in a polite manner.

"We? We're the leaders of this town, Rimuru Tempest and Ciel."

As soon as the gold-eyed introduces himself as "Rimuru", all ogres instinctively stand up to at least give him a respect, since the two turn out to be the leaders of the town which has given them a shelter.

The ogres' chief, who has been standing for the whole time, just walks towards the two and stop a few steps in right front of them. His son and daughter also each walk to his sides—his son at his right side and his daughter at his left side.

The other ogres position themselves in seven neat lines with each line consisting of five ogres, with the exception being the backmost line that only consists of four ogres.

"Now, please let us introduce ourselves properly," the gold-eyed states with a smile. "I am Rimuru Tempest. For your information, I am a guy—"

With widened eyes, "Uh, what?!" is what the ogres' face is saying right now.

"—and this girl is my dearest partner." Ignoring the ogres' confusion, he just continues the introduction.

"Ciel," the red-eyed adds.

"Together, we are the leaders of this town."

...

"Ah—err...i-it is a pleasure to meet you, Rimuru-dono, Ciel-dono." The ogres' chief puts his right palm in front of his chest while slightly bowing at them, followed by his son, daughter, and finally all ogres behind them. "We would like to thank you very much for having saved us and provided us a place to shelter ourselves."

While not showing it, the chief is actually feeling a bit complicated about this. He tries to carefully and quietly observe Rimuru and Ciel, but he cannot feel any aura coming out from them. Nothing at all, as if they were just some normal human girls.

There is just no way two ordinary humans can have a huge number of hobgoblins and some direwolves under them while not being minded at all by them. There must be more reasons beyond that.

"Ah-ha-ha, no worries," replies the gold-eyed who just introduced himself as Rimuru. "It's nice to help people, after all."

But the chief isn't stupid to completely underestimate the two. He does notice some weird things about them.

From his experience, ordinary humans usually get frightened just by simply seeing one of your average ogres in the distance, especially if their bodies are much smaller than the ogres'—which they often are. But these two, who are standing in front of and talking to forty-seven ogres at once, don't seem to show any signs of fear at all, proved by how they could talk so casually and let out that nonchalant laugh.

The red-eyed, Ciel, also has a very familiar voice. It sounds perfectly identical to the voice that guided him and the others to escape and the voice of the mysterious cloaked figure who claimed to be the one who had that voice.

The chief finally decides to just continue observing and wait for whatever is going to happen next.

Rimuru and Ciel sit down together on the floor in seiza position.

"Let's we all sit down," Rimuru says in a friendly tone with a smile.

The ogres are looking at each other, seemingly confused. "All of us, sir?" the chief asks for a confirmation.

"Yes, yes. All of you, please be relaxed and sit down."

Following Rimuru's words, all ogres kneel down on the floor. They adjust their position a little bit so that the tops of their feet are flat on the floor in a slight bent shape, big toes overlapped with the right on top of the left. They then rest their bottoms on the heels while placing their hands on the thighs, palm down.

"We'd like to hear more about you," continues Rimuru. "So, can you please tell us the story how you ended up like this?"

"The orcs attacked our village out of nowhere," the chief begins. "When our intelligence team detected them, they were already too close. My order couldn't reach all villagers in time, causing many of us to be unready for the upcoming battle."

"They carried weapons and wore armour," the chief's son adds. "With their overwhelming number, they—those detestable pigs—overran our village."

"Orcs wearing armour, were they?" Ciel asks.

"Yes," the chief answers. "From what I had seen, they wore the same type of full plate mail that humans wear."

"Were there any abnormal black-armoured orcs, in any case?"

"Ah, yes. I remember that there was at least one—the one whom I fought. He was abnormally strong, enough to overpower me."

"I see," Rimuru chips in. "Now I understand."

The chief looks at Rimuru in curiosity, so do the other ogres.

"Say, chief," Rimuru continues, "did you really believe that the orcs would just carelessly attack you, just like that?"

"Actually, I have been thinking that it is very likely that there is someone else behind all of this." The chief quickly gives his honest opinion, one that he has been thinking about since last night.

His fellow ogres widen their eyes in surprise. They never deeply thought of it before.

Orcs are considered as one of the weakest races in the forest. Very few of them who actually have considerable amount of intelligence; their strength is also much weaker than the ogres by a very huge margin. It's nearly unthinkable that the orcs would take the initiative for attack.

That attack was far from what one can describe as "careless". The orcs were clearly all fully-prepared, proven by how every single one of them was wearing full-plate armour. Now that their chief has said his own words about that matter, it does make the ogres wonder how the orcs got those valuable armours in the first place.

"Wait a moment, father!" the chief's son interjects. "If it is the case, do you not think that the majin we encountered last evening was—"

"I do," he answers without waiting for him to finish the question. "That majin had been very suspicious. I can't think of anyone more suspicious than him."

"So, what are you going to do now?" Rimuru throws the question at the chief.

"What do you mean, exactly?"

"I mean your plans for the future," Rimuru explains. "Whether you rebuild your village or relocate to another area, the fate of your comrades is depending on your leadership, am I right?"

The chief looks at Rimuru in the eye for a short moment, then slightly lowers his head while letting out a regretful sigh.

"Well...if I must be honest, we still have no plan at all." He takes a glance at his fellow ogres behind him. "Though, I would like it if we could rebuild our strength and take them on once again..."

"Do you know where to find them, then?"

"...No."

"Well, even if you can find them, do you think you can really beat them? The orcs number around two hundred thousand, do you know that?"

The chief instantly raises his head straight, eyes twitching a little, so do his fellow ogres. "I beg your pardon? The orcs number around what?"

"Two. Hundred. Thousand," Rimuru repeats the number word-by-word in a very clear voice.

"I am sorry, but I thought the orcs who attacked our village only numbered—"

"Ten thousand." It is Ciel who responds this time. "However, they were only a small fraction of the much larger army moving in the forest. According to the information we have gathered so far, it is confirmed that the orcs number no less than two hundred thousand."

"That can't be..." "There are even more of them...?" "How could we possibly win like this..."

The ogres, unable to believe what they just heard with their own ears, are looking at each other in despair. Murmurs begin to erupt here and there, getting louder and louder as each second passes.

"That's why, we have an offer," Rimuru states, immediately shutting up every sound of murmur there is. "Do you guys have any interest in becoming our subordinates?"

"Subordinates?" the chief asks.

The chief isn't as surprised as he may look or sound like. He figures out that it's nearly impossible if someone would just save them willy-nilly for free. The two must have some hidden agendas behind it.

But the way Rimuru worded his sentence is quite unusual. He didn't use the obvious and straight-to-the-point "serve me", "pay me back", "work for me", or any similar phrases. Instead, he asked them if they "have any interest in becoming subordinates", as if implying that to become or not to become the his subordinates, it's up to them to choose.

"But of course, all we can pay you is guaranteed food, shelter, and clothing. You need a home base, right?" Rimuru casts a faint smile.

"This town of ours isn't completely safe, either," Rimuru continues after a few moments. "Sooner or later, we'll also have to face those orcs. If we don't act quickly and accordingly, this town can turn into a battlefield and casualties will be inevitable by then. That's why adding as many to our numbers as possible will be beneficial, as well as preparing ourselves for the worst. If anything happens with you, we'll fight alongside you."

"...I apologize, but I feel this is too sudden," the chief hesitantly speaks up. "Would you please let us have some thoughts and discussions among ourselves?"

"Of course, of course, take all the time you need to think about it," Rimuru replies. "Even if you ultimately decide to reject, that's fine, too."

"?!" The chief is surprised by the unexpected reaction from Rimuru, the last sentence he said.

"But, if possible, we need your answer quickly for us to immediately know and decide on what actions should we take next. Will until after lunch be enough time?"

The chief takes another short glance at his fellow ogres behind him. Everyone gives a nod as signal of approval.

"We believe it will be more than enough."

"Then, we'll take our leave." Rimuru stands up, followed by Ciel. "Once you know and are confident in your decision, come into the town park. We'll be waiting at the largest shelter there."

They both walk towards the door then take a step outside the building.

"I'll say it once again: even if you ultimately decide to reject, that's fine." Rimuru glances at the ogres. "You have the right to decide what's best for yourselves. If you choose 'yes', we'll welcome you with open arms. If you choose 'no', we'll respect that decision and we won't do anything to harm you and will let you go anywhere as you please. But please do remember that whichever choice you'll choose later on, we still expect your cooperation at least until the orcs have been dealt with."

Turning his eyes away, he begins to walk away along with Ciel as he closes the door.

⁂

The sun is going to reach its zenith in half an hour.

Previously, the chief decided not to start the discussion right after breakfast. He needed his surviving people to calm their minds down, so their rational judgement wouldn't dull out because of grief dominating their thoughts during the discussion.

After making sure his people are actually ready, the chief sits cross-legged in front of them, his hands folded and his elbows resting on his thighs. He turns his face to his fellow ogres with a regretful expression while taking a deep breath. "First of all, I want to deeply apologize. We've lost the battle. And because of that, we also suffer a great loss of comrades. This is my failure as your chief...as your leader."

"There is no need to blame yourself too much, my chief," replies a maroon-haired ogre man while wearing a wistful smile on his face. "It was also partly our failure for being too unwary."

This maroon-haired ogre is none other than the sole survivor of the team that the chief was spearheading at the battle last night to defend their "six last hopes". His wife and both of his sons had been killed before their statement of oath.

He is the chief's loyal childhood friend whose age is only around one year younger than the chief, as well as a blood relative, although a rather far relative. If one traces their pedigrees, one will see that their line of genealogy eventually meets at an ogre chief of the past.

To be exact, they were both descendants of the past ogre chief who was leading the ogres' homeland when a group of human warriors appeared there around four hundred years ago. The chief himself was, needless to say, descended from his older son, while the maroon-haired ogre was descended from the younger son.

The maroon-haired ogre continues, "We might have lost the battle, but we have not lost the war yet. Our instructor back then always taught us the saying: 'fall seven times, stand up eight'. As long as we are still existing, we can always fall then stand up over and over again. We will always fight by your side and advance forward."

"Oh-hoh-hoh-hoh...I am glad to see my disciple still remembering my words," remarks the oldest white male ogre among them, one whose age is more than three hundred years old, surpassing average ogres' one hundred years of longest life expectancy. "He is right, my chief. Whichever path you choose, we will still follow you. We believe and are certain that you can still lead our race and people to a brighter future, regardless of your past failures."

"Thank you, all of you..." The chief feels touched by his comrades' words. But he immediately realizes that they are still in a supposedly-serious discussion, so he quickly changes his tone. "So...what do you think about the offer Rimuru-dono told us earlier? Should we accept it? Or should we not?"

"May I have some words in this regard, sir?" A grey-haired ogre man raises his hand.

"Of course, you may. Go ahead."

"Aside from suffering a huge loss of comrades, we also lost the village that we always called our home. Our village was a place that our ancestors had been constantly building and changing since hundreds of years ago. It certainly is going to take a very long time if we eventually decide to rebuild it from nothing. Moreover, we never know when those cursed pigs will show up. If by accepting the offer means that we have been guaranteed with a new home with much safer circumstances than our previous one where we can also rebuild our power more calmly, then I believe we should accept it."

"I must say I disagree." A young purple-haired ogre boy raises his hand.

"Would you please explain your reasons?" the chief asks.

"We, the ogres, are always known as the strongest race within the Forest of Jura. To submit to another party means to also acknowledge that we are weaker than the party in question. In addition, I still could not believe that those two people are actually the ones who saved us. For all I could see, they are just some human younglings who bear no special power. It will be a great disrespect for ourselves to submit to such people. So, I believe we should not accept."

"How could you even just conclude that they don't bear any special power?" A young blue-haired ogre boy throws a counterquestion right away.

"My eyes have told me so, so it must be true. Nothing can ever escape my [Analysis]."

"Nonsense. Your average human will be so terrified just by seeing one ogre, so how were they even able to stand up in front of us all, forty-seven ogres, if that was indeed the case?"

"They might've just been deceiving us by acting all tough to manipulate us! And who knows they might've been using charm or whatever sort of illusion magic, too?!"

"If they could use an illusion magic strong enough to fool even our eyes, it means that they do have a special power!"

"That's not what I—"

"Please calm down, both of you!" a young white-haired ogre man reprimands in a not-too-loud but firm tone. "There's no need to raise your tone like that. This is a crucial discussion where serious takes and measures are extremely necessary, unlike those regular quarrels of yours where you could just throw any senseless arguments that crossed your mind at the time. And you did that in front of the chief himself, no less! Don't you have any shame?"

""W-we deeply apologize..."" The two quickly shut their mouths up in fear.

...

"But...did Rimuru-dono not say it himself that it is fine even if we decide to reject the offer?" The chief's daughter finally gives her comment, breaking the long, awkward silence. "If we would really like to know whether or not we should accept it based on his power, why do we not respectfully ask him to show us his power? If he is benevolent enough to let us get away with whichever choice we choose, I am sure he should not have any problems with just showing us a bit of his power, if that is what it all takes to convince us to accept his offer."

"Thinking of it that way, it does make sense." "I guess that's also true." "Let's see about that." "Princess is right." "As expected from our princess."

Various comments, compliments, and cheers are coming from the ogres for their princess.

"But"—the chief raises his hand as a signal for them to calm down after thinking for a while—"do you think they can be trusted? After all that happened to us because of having rejected that majin's 'offer', it became very difficult to trust the words of someone whom we only met once."

"I believe they are trustworthy, my father," his daughter replies. "During our entire conversation with them, and even when they re-emphasized their words that we were free to choose, my [Danger Detection] could not sense any hostility or threats coming from them. I believe it should be enough a hint that they really meant what they said, not just for the outside cover."

"I see." The chief turns his attention to the other ogres. "You've heard my daughter's words, everyone. Has it been enough to erase any of your worries and anxiety?"

"""Yes, my chief."""

"Our choice will be decided right when we face Rimuru-dono and Ciel-dono. If they agree to show their power and are actually bearing a power worthy of our subordination to them, then we know what to say. Do you understand?"

"""Yes, sir!"""

⁂

The lunchtime has ended. It's time for the ogres to go to the town park and face Rimuru and Ciel.

On the way, the chief asks some passing civilians about where the town park is, since he forgets where it is located even though he's sure he once saw and actually passed it by last night. It turns out that the distance between the evacuation building and the town park is not far away from each other. It's just no farther than three hundred metres, so the ogres don't have to walk for too long.

There, at the said largest shelter within the park surrounded with various huge trees, bushes, and flowers, Rimuru and Ciel have been waiting for their arrival, sitting on the shelter's edge that happens to face the direction where the ogres are coming from.

"We have come to give you our answer for your offer, Rimuru-dono, Ciel-dono," the chief states as all ogres stop a few steps in front of the shelter.

"Great." Rimuru stands up together with Ciel. "So, what is your answer?"

"Before that, sir, would you be so kind to show us just a little bit of your power?"

"I see... So, you want me to show you my power to solidify your hearts on the decision you have chosen?"

"...I feel ashamed of this...but indeed, we do."

"Can you guys please give me a little more space, then?"

The ogres take a few steps back as told, eagerly waiting for whatever kind of performance that they are going to see.

Rimuru walks a bit to the middle. He turns ninety degrees, now facing the left direction according to the ogres' perspective, then takes several steps backwards. Extending his left hand in front of his body, a sword appears out of thin air complete with its scabbard.

He grabs the scabbard with his left hand then hangs it on his left waist. His right hand holds the sword's hilt, pulling out the sword's blade with a chilling schwing sound, giving whoever hears it a good shiver down to the spine.

It's a beautiful sword whose blade has a shade of azure like the clear blue sky—the Sword of Caeruleum.

Rimuru takes his left hand off the scabbard. "I believe an excessive display of power is unnecessary here"—he grabs the sword's hilt with both hands—"so I think this should already be enough. I'm sure at least one of you will understand."

Rimuru jumps backwards quite far away. Landing near a tree, he raises his sword at eye level and points its tip directly frontwards while also shifting his right leg behind and bending his left leg. A bluish aura begins to appear, coating the sword's blade. Rimuru lowers his stance, ready to show every witness a glimpse of what he is capable of.

He dashes forwards, successively sending a thrust several times to the air with such an incredible speed. An old white ogre behind the chief, who is also the ogres' main martial instructor and therefore is well-versed in swordplay, recognizes this body stance and movement almost immediately; he starts to pay more and more attention to the smallest details.

After completing the fifth thrust, Rimuru begins to change his pattern of movements.

As the white ogre expected, that technique isn't the last. But rather, it's just the beginning. Using his right foot as both a pivot and a take-off foot, Rimuru jumps and twists his body 360 degrees counter-clockwise while releasing a forceful diagonal slash downwards.

His movement speed, which is already high from the start, now increases even more. Under three seconds, Rimuru has unleashed the next five slashes, completing the series of six slashes.

The pattern of movement changes again along with another increase in speed; winds begin to form and lightly blow the surrounding. Previously from thrusting to slashing, now it changes from slashing to parrying. Rimuru skilfully plays his sword in such a way that it looks as though he is swiftly warding off all imminent attacks coming from an enemy with seven different movements cleverly weaved into a single wonderful manoeuvre.

The pattern of movement changes and the speed increases, yet again. It now becomes so unbelievably fast; the sword on Rimuru's grip cannot be seen anymore. Every time he releases a strike, it looks as though it's nothing but a flashing ray of light to the average eyes.

After the eighth strike, the flash finally dies down. Blown by a rather massive shockwave of wind sent by Rimuru's last strike, many leaves fall from their trees, flying and fluttering down around Rimuru.

The ogres are stunned, mouth agape.

"Oh-hoh-hoh-hoh..." While the others are simply too stunned to speak, the old white ogre just laughs in rather an excitement. "To think that there is someone else who has mastered such beautiful techniques, it is simply mesmerizing."

"You recognize those movements, old ma—I mean, instructor?" the chief asks, still so dumbfounded; his tongue nearly slipped.

"Yes, my chief. The five thrusts symbolizing a plum blossom, [Baika: Gokatotsu]; the six slashes symbolizing a pomegranate, [Zakuro: Rokkazan]; the seven parries symbolizing a willow, [Yōryū: Shikkanagi]; and the eight flashing strikes symbolizing a double-flowered cherry blossom, [Yaezakura: Hakkasen]. Those are secret techniques of 'Oboro' that my grandfather once showed and taught me."

"Your grandfather? Do you mean the legendary, honourable Byakuya-sama?"

"Yes. And this is the first time I saw the four of highest secret techniques being performed successively without a delay. I would hate to say it, but Rimuru-dono here far surpasses him in every aspect."

Rimuru returns to a normal standing position while gracefully sheathing his sword back into its scabbard. Then, he walks towards the chief.

"So"—he stops and turns to face the chief—"is this already enough?"

Rimuru has said that "an excessive display of power is unnecessary", which means he still has many other abilities up his sleeve, ones much more powerful and much more terrifying than just some highest secrets of sword techniques.

Everyone is trembling out of both fear and admiration. The purple male ogre who previously called Rimuru and Ciel "just some younglings who bore no special power", in particular, is sweating profusely, fearing that anything bad will happen to him soon, even though he knows that Rimuru and Ciel weren't even there when he uttered those humiliating words.

"Well, if it isn't, I can show you anoth—"

"This is more than what we could ask for." The chief bends his legs, placing his right knee and right fist on the ground while resting his left palm on the left knee and lowering his head. "Rimuru-dono—No. Rimuru-sama, we would like to accept your offer."

Looking at what their chief is doing, the perplexed ogres come back to their senses. One by one, they begin to also kneel down following their chief, started from his son and daughter at his side, and finally all the others behind them.

"We..."

In a perfect unison, they intone out loud, """We hereby swear our eternal allegiance from this day onwards to our new masters: Rimuru Tempest-sama and Ciel-sama."""

~TO BE CONTINUED~

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