This time around, I really put in some effort.
The Fang Wolf tribe.
The dominant predators of the Eastern Plains.
They had been a persistent headache for merchants trading between the Eastern Empire and the countries surrounding the Jura Forest.
Each individual was a C-rank monster — let your guard down, and even a veteran adventurer could be killed in a single bite.
But the real threat lay in how they operated as a pack.
When led by a capable boss, the Fang Wolf tribe showed their true strength. Moving as one, they could coordinate their actions with the precision of a single organism — not a thread out of place.
And their rating as a pack? It matched B-rank.
The Eastern Plains bordered a vast granary region.
That made it a critical location — the lifeblood of the Empire — and its defenses were airtight.
No matter how cunning or powerful the Fang Wolf tribe was, breaking through the Empire's defenses would be difficult. And even if they managed it, it would only earn the Empire's wrath, spelling the end of the Fang Wolf tribe's future.
The pack's boss understood this well.
Decades of skirmishes with the Empire had taught him — deeply, viscerally — the cost of overstepping.
So long as they only targeted small-time merchants, the Empire wouldn't commit serious resources. But the moment they set foot inside the granary region, the Empire would bare its fangs.
He couldn't afford to repeat the mistakes his kin had made time and time again.
That was what the boss thought.
But as a monster, he also understood that continuing like this would halt their evolution entirely.
For the Fang Wolf tribe, eating was never about hunger. Attacking humans and devouring their flesh was little more than snacking — because humans carried very little in the way of Magicules.
What the Fang Wolf tribe truly needed from meals was Magicule absorption.
They could either hunt stronger monsters, or kill enough humans to evolve into "Calamity"-class threats.
But as things stood, neither option was feasible.
The Empire was simply too powerful for the Fang Wolf tribe.
Yet continuing to prey on merchants would never lead to "Calamity"-class evolution — not in a thousand years.
To the south, he'd heard, there existed a paradise: fertile lands blessed by the forest, home to monsters of tremendous magical power.
But reaching it meant passing through the Jura Forest.
The forest's monsters themselves were nothing special. His pack had hunted ones that strayed out on multiple occasions — he knew firsthand how weak they were.
So why hadn't they been able to penetrate the forest?
"Veldora the Tempest Dragon."
That dragon's existence was the sole reason.
Even sealed away, the malevolent waves of his magical power struck fear into the hearts of every living thing. The monsters of that forest believed they lived under Veldora's protection — that was how they endured within those terrifying currents. If they didn't believe that, they'd have to be insane.
Until now, that resentment at his mere presence had been enough to abandon any thought of entering the forest. …Yes, until now!
The boss turned his sharp, blood-red eyes toward the forest.
That detestable presence of the evil dragon was gone.
Now, he could hunt every last monster in the forest and become its ruler — it wasn't impossible! The boss licked his lips at the thought.
Then he let out the howl that would signal the advance.
--- Now then — since I'd been appointed guardian, I should probably do something useful, right?
In my own mind, I was just a bodyguard. But the village chief treated me like something far more important.
At any rate, he'd gathered the goblins who could fight.
…They looked absolutely pathetic, every last one of them.
As a fighting force, there was nothing to expect from them.
The remaining goblins watched from a distance, but only children and the elderly were left. There would be no reinforcements from other goblin groups.
This situation must have been terrifying enough to drive the village chief mad.
If they fled, they'd have no food and simply starve to death…
And the goblins who had gathered looked at me with something approaching reverence.
That was heavy.
For someone like me, who'd gone through life without a care in the world and never felt an ounce of pressure — this gaze was an overwhelming burden.
"Does everyone understand the situation?"
I couldn't think of anything witty to say — the mood wasn't right for jokes — so I just asked a straightforward question.
"Yes! We are prepared — this will be a fight between life and death!"
The goblin leader answered immediately.
The goblins gathered around seemed to share his resolve.
Some of them were trembling, but that was only natural. Heart and body were separate things.
"Don't overthink it. Stay relaxed. Even if you psyche yourselves up, you'll still lose when it's time to lose. Just give it everything you've got — focus only on that!"
I tried saying something that sounded cool.
I felt better myself. Maybe it actually worked.
Well then — time to begin.
If I failed, it might be the end for the goblins.
Even so, I would walk my own path.
I'd already decided to be bold and unyielding about it.
Alright! Steeling myself, I issued the first order to the goblins.
The same order I would give many times from now on.
Those first words were spoken in this moment.
--- Night fell.
The boss of the Fang Wolf tribe opened his eyes.
Tonight was a full moon. Perfect for battle.
He rose slowly, surveying the area around him.
The Fang Wolves, his kin, watched with bated breath.
A good tension. The boss approved.
Tonight, he would destroy that goblin village and secure a foothold into the Jura Forest. After that, he would gradually hunt the surrounding monsters and become this forest's ruler. Eventually, he even planned to launch an invasion southward in search of greater power.
They had the strength to do it. Their claws could rend any monster, and their fangs could tear through any armor.
WOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!
The boss roared!
It was time to begin the rampage.
But something nagged at him.
A few days ago, a scout he'd sent out had returned with troubling information.
There had been a small monster radiating an extraordinary Demon Aura. Its aura, the scout reported, surpassed even the boss's own.
That was impossible. The boss had dismissed it.
There was no such threat in this forest. Every monster they'd encountered had been weak. They were now in the middle of the forest, and they'd met virtually no resistance.
A dozen goblins had managed to kill a handful of his packmates, but that was all.
He'd let himself get worked up and imagined things. That had to be it.
With that thought, the boss turned his gaze forward.
The village was now visible ahead — exactly where the scouts had reported. They'd tracked wounded goblins to pin down the location. The village's fighting force, at present, was negligible.
The boss was cunning. He didn't let his guard down.
But covering the village was something unfamiliar — something you'd see around a human settlement. A fence.
The village's houses had been dismantled, and the materials repurposed into a barrier that encircled the entire settlement.
And there, at the front, an opening. A single slime sat there.
Clever little thing.
The boss sneered.
So it had left only one gap, trying to force them all through a single choke point? How naive.
In the end, it was just a garbage-tier monster's half-baked scheme. Such a fence would be useless against their claws and fangs!
He would show them the true power of the Fang Wolf tribe! With that thought, he gave the order.
A dozen Fang Wolves surged toward the fence, moving with the precision of extensions of a single body.
The Fang Wolf tribe moved as one — and this was their true strength on display: an attack with not a single thread out of place.
Their coordination came through "Thought Communication" — faster and more seamless than any spoken command.
The first strike should have shattered the fence.
The boss, imagining the goblins panicking as their little scheme crumbled, was caught completely off guard.
The unit that had attacked the fence was sent flying back! Some hit the ground with blood spraying from their wounds.
What was going on?
The boss held his composure and assessed the situation.
The slime at the opening hadn't moved.
Had it done something?
Then one of his subordinates approached and said: *(That one! The one radiating a Demon Aura greater than yours, Boss!)* Impossible! The boss looked at the slime.
A tiny creature — the kind that occasionally spawned on the plains. Barely even worth calling a monster. A pitifully insignificant existence.
For it to possess a Demon Aura that surpassed his own… inconceivable!
Then— "All right! Stop right there. If you turn back now, I won't do anything. Just leave — quickly!!!"
The slime spoke to them.
The Fang Wolf tribe's boss was a cunning, seasoned predator.
Decades of survival had taught him to build strategies without ever letting his guard down, and he had the nerve to execute them calmly.
But that same long experience told him that the creature before him couldn't possibly be stronger than himself.
For the first time, the boss made a fatal mistake.
And that mistake sealed his fate.
GRRRRR!!! GRRRRAAAAAUUUUUU!!!
*(Clever thing!!! I'll crush you!!!)* The battle began.
Oh man, that scared me.
I didn't expect them to charge right off the bat. I'd planned to start with some diplomacy — my prepared speeches were completely gone. Wasted all that practice during breaks for nothing.
The first order I gave was to have someone lead me to the wounded.
Adding the dozen-odd survivors to our sixty barely changed our work efficiency. But since they'd chosen to follow me, I figured I'd do what I could.
They'd been piled together in what looked like a large, unsanitary building.
Looking at the wounded, I could see they'd received rough treatment with what appeared to be medicinal herbs, but if left like this, they'd die. The wounds were deeper than I'd expected — torn open by claws and fangs, now swollen and festering.
Fine. Time to splurge.
I devoured the nearest one, pumped a Recovery
The village chief seemed to be saying something, but I ignored him and went down the line — swallowing each wounded goblin and spitting them back out.
When I'd treated several and turned around…
The goblins were all prostrated before me, peeking up with awed expressions.
What were they doing?
Apparently, they'd mistaken me for some kind of divine healer.
Too much trouble to explain, so I just spat out several Recovery Potions and used them on the rest of the wounded.
This took more time than I'd expected.
Once the treatment was as thorough as I could manage, I gave the goblins a new directive.
Next came the fence.
Ideally I'd have had them cut down trees, but there was no time for that. I'd have to work with what was available.
Without hesitation, I ordered the houses torn down and their materials repurposed for the fence, erected in a circle around the entire village perimeter.
During that work, I also sent out the sharpest-eyed goblins equipped with bows as scouts.
If the enemy was wolves, they'd have good noses. I told them not to push their luck.
They kept giving me these intensely resolute looks — like they were about to declare they'd give their lives for the cause. Overdramatic bunch.
By the evening of the day after I arrived at the village, the fence was finished.
I moved on to the finishing touches.
Namely, reinforcing the fence with spider thread. I also made sure to set Steel Thread traps at various points.
Anyone who touched the fence unknowingly would get sliced to ribbons.
When this battle was over, I'd have to remember to recover it all.
The fence had an opening at the front. All I needed now was to string Sticky Thread across it, and preparations would be complete.
I waited for the scouts to return.
By then, the wounded goblins had begun to recover and wake up.
They touched their own bodies, bewildered, checking their condition in disbelief.
The Recovery Potion had apparently worked remarkably well.
Given the severity of their wounds, I'd thought I'd need multiple doses. But it turned out to be far more effective than expected. A pleasant miscalculation.
We gathered the remaining scrap materials at the center of where the village had been and set them on fire.
It looked like a campfire, but the mood was too tense for that. We'd need to stand watch through the entire night.
I told them I didn't need sleep and would keep watch, but— "Absolutely not!!! We could never let Lord Rimuru do such a thing!"
"That's right! We'll handle the watch! Please rest, Lord Rimuru!"
That was the unanimous response from everyone around me.
Their sentiment was touching, but they were far more exhausted than I was…
I conceded and organized a rotation, letting everyone except the watch shift rest.
Just before midnight, the scouts returned.
The Fang Wolf tribe had begun moving.
They'd been wounded, but every last one of them had come back alive.
Ugly, grimy little monsters — I'd thought of them that way at first. But over these two days, I'd grown fond of them.
I wished — sincerely — that every one of them would make it through this battle alive.
With that thought, I set up the finishing touch — the Sticky Thread across the opening.
--- The Fang Wolf tribe's assault began.
I'd been worried about the fence's durability, but Fang Wolf attacks alone weren't enough to bring it down.
The traps were also performing well. A small relief.
Just in case, I called out: "All right! Stop right there. If you turn back now, I won't do anything. Just leave — quickly!!!"
Completely ignored.
The Fang Wolves surged forward as one, attacking the fence from every direction.
Fine. So long as things went according to plan.
Anticipating this, I'd built small gaps into the fence.
Arrow slits.
From those gaps, the goblins loosed their arrows — clumsily, but they loosed them.
Several Fang Wolves cried out as arrows found their marks.
Some units tried to pry open the arrow slits, but— *THWACK!* Goblins armed with stone axes waiting on either side cut them down in an instant.
We'd only had two hours of practice, but they'd given it everything they had. They'd desperately tried to understand and execute what I told them.
And now that effort was paying off.
Fang Wolves were strong, no question. A single one could probably handle several goblins.
As a pack, their combat power likely multiplied significantly.
But — and here was the key — if a single one was strong, then send multiple fighters against it. If a pack was powerful, then prevent them from grouping up.
It all came down to how you used your head.
The most powerful creatures in this world? That would be intelligent humans, without question.
Tough luck for you… I stared at the Fang Wolf boss with cold eyes.
A mere beast thinking it could beat me? The sheer arrogance.
--- The boss of the Fang Wolf tribe was stunned by how far the reality had diverged from his expectations.
His subordinates were starting to falter.
This was bad.
The Fang Wolf tribe was a species that showed its true strength only as a pack. Distrust in the boss could prove fatal.
The boss understood this perfectly. And because of it, he made his greatest mistake.
He was furious that they couldn't even break through that modest fence, but terrified that his pack's anger would turn on him…
The boss decided he needed to demonstrate his power! He was the strongest in the pack — and individually, he was more than formidable!
In that moment, everything was decided.
I never took my eyes off the Fang Wolf boss.
Still, to the surrounding goblins, the boss would have seemed to vanish in an instant.
To me, the movement was slow — almost leisurely.
Everything went according to plan.
I'd considered several scenarios, and one of them unfolded exactly as predicted.
In the end, it was just a beast. No match for a human.
The boss was ensnared by the Sticky Thread I'd placed across the opening.
With the Fang Wolf boss's strength, he might have been able to break through it — I had no way to verify that, and frankly, it no longer mattered.
The Sticky Thread's purpose was simply to stop the boss's movement, even for a single instant.
If I'd unleashed a Water Blade without halting him first and he'd dodged — that would have been embarrassing. Worse yet, it could have hit my allies, which, depending on the battlefield's conditions, was entirely possible.
That was why I'd set up the trap, though in hindsight, I'd overthought it.
They hadn't even made it to the stage of breaking through the fence.
I'd also considered setting Steel Thread traps, but factored in the possibility of failing to deliver the killing blow and decided to hold off this time.
In this moment, I needed to play the part of an overwhelmingly powerful being.
The setup was for that purpose.
Without hesitation, I decapitated the boss with a Water Blade.
The Fang Wolf boss died in an instant.
"Listen up, Fang Wolf tribe! Your boss is dead!!! I'll give you a choice — submit, or die!"
Now then — how would they respond?
I really hoped they wouldn't charge in to avenge their boss with suicidal fury…
--- Status Name:
I just hope nothing looks too unnatural.