Making my way down the path to the exit I had memorized, I thought about ways to suppress the mystical aura I had a tendency to exude.
It was just the occasional light aura of magicules, and while I could keep it down if I thought about it, for some reason, it’d just appear while I wasn’t paying attention. With all the energy I had absorbed after defeating and consuming Ifrit, it was getting difficult to hide.
I ran into another giant centipede on the way up, but it simply gave me a quick glance before scurrying away. So now did all the other residents of this cave. Glad to see I was finally getting a rep around here, but really, it was probably that aura more than anything.
The Multilayer Barrier did wonders to hide it, but my presence still leaked out a tiny bit—or, to be more exact, the Multilayer Barrier itself was exuding a bit of force. It beat letting my power roll off me without any cover, but it didn’t really help much.
If I could do something permanent about this aura, I could probably pass for a human pretty much anywhere, but…
Suddenly, an idea came to mind. I reached into one pocket and took something out—a beautiful, fetching mask. The Mask of Magic Resistance, the lone physical memento I had to remember Shizu by. I had absorbed the broken pieces with Predator and reassembled them with my body. Maybe this mask could block it?
It was a magic item, one infused with four effects: Magic Resist, Antidote, Breathing Support, and Amplify Senses. Pretty valuable, I imagined. Also, the likely reason why Shizu could breathe normally when summoning fiery explosions within point-blank range of herself. Breathing Support probably kept her lungs full even as the flames consumed the oxygen around her—not that I needed that with my body. I could Synthesize up a respiratory system if I really wanted to, but I didn’t. Maybe this mask could convince people that I was breathing, though. It wasn’t useful now, but it could be depending on the kind of people I ran into.
The other effects—Antidote and Amplify Senses—seemed a lot more useful to your average adventurer, if not to me. The one effect I needed the most was Magic Resist, which could both dull any magic attacks enemies cast and (hopefully) hide my internal magical force.
I put it on. It had an oddly calming effect, and it seemed to fit pretty well. The moment I applied it, the aura pouring out of me immediately dispelled. Nice. Let’s go with this whenever I’m bumping around the outside world.
So that wrapped up another nagging issue. Good. And I had some nice, juicy grilled meat waiting. As I made my way back aboveground, I was filled with glee.
………
……
…
My first decent meal in ages—turned out to be wishful thinking.
The moment I stepped out of the cave, I could instantly feel that someone was fighting. The magicules in the air were stirring, disturbing the surrounding atmosphere.
The meat would have to wait. I gave up on it and made my way in the direction of the particle surge. On the other end…
I found nothing short of a battle to the death.
✦ ✦ ✦
I could hear screaming as I approached the scene of the battle.
It was Gobta.
He was crossing swords with an elderly white-haired ogre, but he was far out of his league. Whatever physical strength and agility this adversary had lost over the years, his swordsmanship and footwork made it clear he was no amateur. Gobta, meanwhile, was totally an amateur. I had to hand it to him for managing to stay alive up to this point. He seemed to be holding his own for now, wildly flinging his body around to dodge the ogre’s strikes, but his astounding luck could only save him for so long.
A moment later, the elderly ogre closed the distance between them and landed a single slash across Gobta’s whole chest, right before my eyes.
“Gaahhhh!!” he shouted as he rolled on the ground. “Oh, that hurts! I—I may die! I may very well die here!!”
I figured he was fine if he had the energy to plead his case with that much gusto. Besides, to my eye, his opponent didn’t seemed very intent on killing him.
Noticing my presence, the wizened ogre abandoned the fight, confident enough that Gobta was no longer a threat.
“Calm down, you. The wound is a shallow one.”
“Gah, Sir Rimuru! Are you here because you were concerned about me, my lord?!”
“Yes,” I said, “and I’m glad you’re in good shape. Don’t need a recovery potion or anything, I see.”
“Whoa, I, um, please? I—I apologize if I didn’t make that clear enough!”
Yeah, he was fine. His wild instincts must’ve propelled him to the ground, preventing him from being any more seriously injured. So I tossed him a bit of potion, more to shut him up than anything. One flask was plenty. The old ogre didn’t move while I administered treatment; it seemed like he was observing me instead. It was a little unnerving.
The area around us was littered with fallen hobgoblin warriors and tempest wolves. None appeared to be dead, but knocking them all out without dealing any grievous wounds would’ve taken some serious talent. A magical strike, perhaps.
Farther off, I spotted a purple-haired ogress fighting with Rigur. This, too, was sadly one-sided. The ogress, wielding an iron mace that was little more than an enormous hunk of metal, was apparently blessed with superhuman strength. Rigur’s sword was starting to bend against it, and his wooden shield was long since battered to splinters. It wouldn’t be long before he was out of the picture, too.
Ranga, noticing me, sprang to my side. “Sir Rimuru,” he said, “my deepest apologies. I was here, and yet, look at this disaster…”
I stopped him mid-sentence. This wasn’t Ranga’s fault; they just had the misfortune of running into the wrong adversary. These were ogres, one of the highest-level races in the Forest of Jura, and no hobgoblin could hope to last too long against them.
“Hold your weapons,” I softly ordered Rigur and the other stragglers. He instantly did so upon hearing my command. The ogress, instead of striking any further blows, gave me a thoughtful look. She was large-framed, muscular, but still in proportion. Her chest was formed enough to make her identifiable as female, and to my surprise, she looked quite a bit more noble than I expected.
I ordered Ranga to take the exhausted Rigur away. The ogres, while still wary of me, made no move to stop him.
“S-Sir Rimuru… I—I cannot express my sorrow…”
Rigur, covered in scratches from head to toe, could barely form a single word or two between breaths. Against the purple-haired ogre, he had little chance of victory. His skills maybe hovered around B rank on a good day.
“Don’t worry,” I said as I gave him a potion. None of his injuries were serious, so his recovery wouldn’t take long. “Just get rested and leave this to me. Ranga, what happened to all these fallen fighters?”
“Ah, that—”
According to him, magic had felled them all. It was some sort of sleeping spell, and none had managed to resist it in time. Good thing it wasn’t a confusion-type, at least. That could’ve been murder.
Magic, though… Talk about drawing the short straw.
✦ ✦ ✦
