After the meal ended and everyone was enjoying their post-dinner tea, the King suddenly spoke up as though he had just remembered something.
"I nearly forgot. Tenma, come to the royal castle again... no, the day after tomorrow. And make sure you're dressed properly!"
Whenever the King spoke in a tone like this, it usually meant nothing good, so I grew wary.
"Oh, don't be so on guard. I simply forgot to officially present you with a reward from the royal family for everything you've done so far. I just want to hand it over before you leave the Royal Capital."
"That's very generous of you, but I'll have to respectfully decline."
The moment I heard the King's words, I refused without hesitation.
The King wore a slightly surprised expression, having been told he wasn't wanted before he could even finish speaking. This was certainly too discourteous, and I was starting to regret it, thinking the King might grow angry — when a laugh suddenly came from beside him.
"My dear, with that way of putting it, of course Tenma is going to refuse. Your usual approach with nobles would make him think you're offering land or a noble title as the reward, and Tenma has been saying all along that he doesn't want anything like that."
"Hmph..."
Having been gently chided by Lady Maria, the King scratched his cheek with a slightly embarrassed look.
"I'm sorry for refusing before hearing you out to the end. If it's not land or a noble title, then what is the reward?"
Judging by the King's earlier phrasing, it would normally be land or a noble title. But if not, perhaps gold and silver treasures? Personally, I'd be more grateful for a rare metal like hihiirokane than any of that, though...
"Indeed! The reward I shall bestow upon Tenma is — a family name and a family crest!"
This reward caught me off guard. However, it wasn't the family name that surprised me, but the family crest. As for family names, they're not particularly rare — they're given to adventurers who achieve enough to catch the eye of high-ranking nobles, or held by influential merchants to distinguish themselves from other tradesmen. To put it extremely, even commoners can self-proclaim one without any real issue. That said, being granted one officially by the royal family, as in this case, is apparently quite rare.
A family crest, however, is a different matter entirely. These are preserved in the royal castle's records room, so you can't simply create one on your own. Those who hold a family crest include powerful nobles, noble families with long histories (minor nobles and newly ennobled families more often lack one), those who have made significant contributions to the nation, and those who have left behind extraordinary achievements. However, in the latter two cases, receiving a family crest almost always comes with being granted noble status, so it's safe to say virtually no commoners hold one. Those who do are essentially descendants of people in those two categories who didn't receive noble status.
"You seem to have no interest in becoming a noble, so at least accept this much. This is also a request from your King."
The fact that he specifically said "your King" meant he was determined to make me accept no matter what. When I considered that these two things would clearly show the royal family had rewarded me, and that receiving them wouldn't cause me any trouble, I realized I had no choice but to accept. If I took this reward, I could demonstrate that my relationship with the royal family was on good terms. And if I refused, people around me would think I was disrespecting and making a fool of the royal family, and my reputation would plummet. Either way, the royal family's name would remain unblemished.
"That's quite the cunning move, Your Majesty."
"Well, I have to show my kingly side once in a while."
In response to my sarcastic remark, the King made an irritatingly smug face. It looked like I had been completely defeated.
"I gratefully accept this reward."
"Mm!"
When I dramatically knelt to give my thanks, the King puffed out his chest importantly and nodded. However, it was frustrating to just keep getting the short end of the stick, so as I stood up, I said—
"This isn't exactly in thanks for the reward, but I'd like to offer a pudding dessert after the meal. However, I wouldn't want Your Majesty's health to suffer from something I've prepared, so could I have Kurif check Your Majesty's portion as the official taster?"
"Ho—" "I'll take that."
Before the King could say anything, Kurif—who had somehow ended up right behind me—held out his hand. Even though I had anticipated this, his sudden arrival startled me a little—no, quite a lot—but I handed over the King's portion of pudding to Kurif as if nothing had happened.
"Everyone, please help yourselves."
"No, Tenma, my—" "Thanks, big bro!" — pudding — "Thank you, Tenma!" "..."
Ignoring the King's words, I went around distributing pudding to everyone, and by the time everyone except the King had received their portion, the pudding was gone.
"Then I shall proceed with the taste test... Hmm! This is bad! There's poison in this, Your Majesty! Therefore, I shall take responsibility and dispose of it myself!"
"K-Kurif! What poison?! Give it back! My pudding—!" "Tenma, that was delicious." "Ooooh..."
The King tried to snatch the pudding back from Kurif, but Kurif deftly dodged the King's hands again and again while eating all the pudding swiftly yet elegantly. The moment the pudding container was emptied, the King collapsed to his knees on the floor as though he were about to burst into tears.
"How unsightly of you."
"Then your pudding—" "That was delicious." "Oof..."
Maria had swiftly and elegantly eaten the remainder of her pudding the very moment she realized the King had set his sights on it.
Seeing that, everyone else hurriedly gobbled down their pudding, terrified of becoming the King's next target—all except two, who maintained their composure and ate elegantly.
Just as the King, believing everyone had finished eating, was about to slump into his chair in defeat, he noticed there was still someone who hadn't touched their pudding.
"Zain, if you don't want it, give it to me!"
"I apologize, Your Majesty. This is a souvenir for my wife... She was looking forward to this dinner party, but since she wasn't feeling well, she reluctantly decided to skip it on her own. So I was hoping to at least let her have this dessert..."
Lord Zain explained the reason he was leaving his pudding untouched, pretending to wipe his eyes, and said with an exaggerated gesture, "However, if Your Majesty requires it, I would be happy to offer it. My wife would be delighted if it could bring Your Majesty pleasure." Everyone turned to look at the King at once. Of course, they were all just teasing, but Luna—who didn't quite seem to grasp the situation—held out her own container with a little pudding still in it toward the King,
"Grandfather, you can have mine! Let Auntie eat her pudding!"
That was what she said. And with tearful eyes, no less... If this behavior on Luna's part was an act, then her future was rather concerning.
Thanks to Luna's words, the King gave up on the pudding (more precisely, it was Maria's cold glare that did it) and obediently sat back down in his chair.
"Well, setting this person aside... Tenma, regarding the family crest—special permission has been granted for you to use a dragon. Normally, this is only allowed for noble houses with close ties to the royal family, but in your case, you've slain a dragon twice and even have one under your service, so it's being recognized as an exceptional case. There are precedents in the past, though, so it's not exactly an exception within exceptions. You'll design it yourself and submit it to the royal family for approval. As long as you don't use the 'Dragon and Lion' crest that symbolizes the royal house, there shouldn't be any major problems."
It was a rather vague explanation, but clashing with other nobles—especially powerful ones—would still be an issue. Using a dragon would make it harder for someone else to have an overlapping design, but each noble still has their own symbolic animal or pattern, so even if the designs ended up similar, you'd either have to come up with a reason why that wasn't a problem, or design something completely different. It was surprisingly—or rather, quite—troublesome.
"Sounds pretty troublesome... Then I'll use a dragon, a wolf, and a Slime. Those three represent who I am right now."
Deciding that the more I thought about it, the more troublesome it would get, I settled on representing the dragon as Solomon, with
Shiromaru
and
Slarin
added to the design. Other nobles probably use wolves too, but surely no one would use a Slime in their family crest. Moreover, with those three together, anyone who knew me would understand at a glance, and even for nobles already using wolves, I could simply say, "I used it because I have a wolf as my Familiar," and no one could accuse me of copying.
"You made that decision awfully quickly for someone who just said it sounded troublesome... Well, fine. There are a few crests that use wolves, but none that pair them with a dragon. And as far as I know, no one has ever used a Slime in a family crest. There shouldn't be any complaints from anywhere. Now, it's just the design—do you have any ideas?"
The King, having recovered from his pudding shock, asked in a cheerful voice. Maria and the others wore the same eager, interested expressions. Incidentally, the dragon I'd be using was apparently the same shape as the one in the royal family's crest, and I wouldn't be allowed to alter its form.
"Um, let's see—I'll place the dragon in the upper right, position the wolf diagonally below and to the left so they face each other, and represent the Slime with a circle encompassing both of them. At the center of that circle, between the dragon and the wolf, I'll place one more small circle—the Slime's core. How does that sound?"
I roughly jotted down my ideas on paper. I hadn't really thought too hard about it—I just arranged Slarin and the others as they came to me—but I thought it turned out reasonably well. In fact, even if everyone told me it looked strange, I was going to go with this design.
"I think it's great! It's easy to tell it's you, big brother!"
Luna, who adored Solomon, was the first to voice her approval, and everyone else followed. The main reason, as Luna had said, was that it was "easy to tell." Apparently, the most important thing about a newly created family crest was that it should make people think of the person using it, and what I'd come up with was, in a sense, the ideal design.
"The design is nice, and it doesn't seem to overlap with anyone else's, so there shouldn't be any problems. If you're satisfied, Tenma, we'll have a few draft crests prepared based on those designs. All you'll need to do is pick from them."
The royal palace apparently had a department that handled registered family crests, and one of its duties was the creation of new crests. Those who had been granted the right to bear a family crest could either design it themselves or commission the department to create one—and going with the department meant you didn't have to worry about your crest overlapping with another noble's.
Apparently, those who design their own crests tend to be perfectionists, and there are even cases where people get so obsessive they lose track of what their own crest is actually supposed to look like, ending up having to visit the department multiple times for checks and corrections. Perhaps because of this, lower-ranking nobles and commoners—whose entry procedures into the castle are already complex and time-consuming—tend to keep their crests simple. Not a cross in a circle, but more like an X in a circle.
"Please leave it to us. It'll be more reliable in professional hands."
Since I have no artistic talent to speak of when it comes to detailed designs, a department that would handle everything as long as I provided the concept was more than welcome.
"Still, dragons and wolves are one thing, but if they hear we're using a Slime for the family crest, the department staff might be surprised. I doubt anyone would actually mock us once they find out whose it is, though."
Anyone who only knows ordinary Slimes would certainly be surprised. That was just how weak Slimes were considered to be… with a few exceptions, of course.
"I did some research on that, and when you look at the proportion of Slime types, apparently the weak Slimes actually make up fewer species overall."
These were Tida's words. We waited for Tida to continue. While looking slightly embarrassed at being the center of everyone's attention, Tida paused briefly to organize thoughts before carrying on.
"Apparently, Slimes can be broadly divided into common Slimes, Slimes with special abilities, and Slimes that can use magic. Common Slimes are the ordinary kind you see everywhere, along with their color variants. Special-ability Slimes can carry various poisons or produce strong acid within their bodies. Magic-using Slimes are exactly what they sound like. For special abilities, the most commonly seen are poison-bearing Slimes, and the poisons range from ordinary toxins to hemorrhagic poison, paralysis poison, hallucination-inducing poison, and more—some even possess compound poisons combining multiple effects. There's even a theory that as many Slime species exist as there are poisons in the world. Similarly, magic-wielding Slimes range from those with a single attribute to those with multiple attributes."
And so she said. Moreover, each type apparently had sub-species and the like, making Slimes arguably the most varied of all Monster species.
If that was the case, then Slarin would be a "sub-species of magic-using Slimes," or perhaps a "sub-species of Slimes with multiple special abilities."
"My, Tida—you've been studying hard. Quite different from the previous generation."
When the old man, who knew the King's past, said in a teasing tone,
"Tida takes after Maria—she's good at studying…"
she replied. It was clear she had learned from past mistakes. Maria also nodded in satisfaction upon hearing the answer.
Tida looked somewhat pleased, having received a passing grade from the old man.
"So, will you be thinking up the family name yourself as well?"
"No—the family name is for me to decide and bestow. And I have already decided on the name for Tenma. I'm sorry, Tenma, but—"
"I"
"am personally bestowing this name, so even if it's something you dislike, you won't be able to change it. In that case, you're free to refrain from using it except when absolutely necessary."
Well, that was only natural. After all, changing something given directly by the King based on my own feelings would be tantamount to disrespecting him. And since Maria was involved, there was no way he'd come up with a name I'd hate. Still, it was all based on Maria's standards, so there remained a slim possibility of a name I wouldn't be fond of.
So, during the brief stretch of time before the King announced the family name, my heart beat just a little faster.
"Tenma, the family name I bestow upon you is Ootori. Henceforth, you shall go by Tenma Ootori. Naturally, if it doesn't suit your taste, you're under no obligation to use it."
Hearing the surname from my previous life for the first time in fifteen years, a wave of nostalgia washed over me.
"I gratefully accept the family name. With your permission, I would like to have it—along with the family crest—engraved on my parents' gravestones."
The name Ootori had been granted to me personally, so while I felt it was fine to let a spouse or children take it, using it for my parents felt a bit presumptuous. That was why I decided to ask for permission.
"Of course. If you didn't engrave it, I'd be the one who's angry."
"Exactly. It's a name we've given you, so you're free to do as you please with it. Celia and the others will surely be delighted as well."
The King and Maria both gave their consent readily.
"Then might this old man also take the name Ootori?"
Grandpa asked somewhat hesitantly, so—
"Of course, Grandpa."
I replied, and he broke into a broad, pleased grin.
"One more thing, Tenma. The name Ootori bears a resemblance to my own 'Audley,' so I expect there will be those who pry where they shouldn't. Should that happen, we will lend you our strength."
When Lord Ernest said that, Grandpa's expression immediately hardened with wariness.
"What are you scheming?!"
"I'm not scheming anything! I'm merely saying that we bear some responsibility for having given the name, and that you should come to us if any trouble arises!"
Their squabble was nothing new, but just as Grandpa had said, it was almost certain that Lord Ernest had some ulterior motive. At the very least, I doubted his words were motivated purely by goodwill.
"No matter how you look at it, the way you phrase things is incredibly suspicious!"
"Wha—?!"
Leaving the two of them to their usual bickering, I turned my gaze to the others who surely understood the implications of Lord Ernest's words. When I fixed them with a flat, unamused stare, I caught the faintest flicker of tension on the King's face.
When I was about to narrow my focus to the King,
"Well, it's nothing to worry about. Like always, it's just about making the other nobles think 'the Royal Family and Tenma have a connection.' And in exchange, if those idiots try to hassle you, just come to us and we'll take care of the trouble."
Lyle had revealed all this so casually that the King and the others looked surprised, but when Lyle saw their expressions,
"It's not exactly a new development, is it?
The Royal Family
is going to be associated with Tenma going forward, so some degree of a mutually beneficial arrangement is inevitable. Better not to hide it—for both our sakes. This sort of thing only blows up when you try to hide it for no reason."
He declared bluntly.
Hearing Lyle's words, the King and Maria looked somewhat uncomfortable,
"That's... certainly true. Tenma, I'm sorry."
"You're right. Calling him practically our son while secretly trying to use him—that's no way for a parent to behave. I'm sorry, Tenma."
Both of them bowed their heads and apologized to me. Following that, the King suggested that we cancel the granting of the family name, but
"No, I appreciate the apology, and I understand your reasoning now. To put it bluntly, not much has really changed from before, so I'd be grateful to accept the family name."
And so I decided to receive the name Ootori after all. The gods had apparently reincarnated me as
Tenma Ootori,
but when I was living in Kukuri Village, there was no need for a family name, and after I set out on my journey, I had been operating as simply "Tenma," so honestly, I had more or less forgotten the Ootori name.
Truthfully, I don't feel particularly attached to the name Ootori at this point, but if my dad and mom—and Grandpa too—are fine with me using it, then I'm determined to take it no matter what.
Right now, the only connection between my parents and me is that we "were family," and even that is on a "people who know, know" level. If we were blood-related, I probably wouldn't worry about it, but as an adoptee, the thought that if everyone who knew we were family were to disappear, I'd end up being no different from a stranger—it weighs on me.
That's exactly why I wanted the name "Ootori"—the same as mine—engraved on their graves, so that even strangers could see we were family. I know it's purely self-indulgent, but even so, I found myself wanting a new bond with my parents.
"So, what should I do the day after tomorrow?"
"Hmm. Originally, I had planned to have you come so we could document in the castle's official records that the Royal Family granted the family name and crest as a reward. But since the crest design was finalized at an unexpected speed, I'd like to make the formal announcement in front of the castle's senior officials, if possible. It'll be cutting it close time-wise, but I'll send the crest design to the relevant department right away and have several different versions ready by tomorrow morning. If there's one you like, Tenma, we'll officially adopt that and proceed with the final rendering. But if none of them appeal to you, there's no need to compromise. We can postpone the announcement, or simply hand over the family name first."
In any case, I learned that making the announcement was the crucial part. The Royal Family would grant the family name and crest as a reward, and I would officially receive it in a public setting. Writing it down in a document makes it sound like just one line of text, but adding the unwritten detail of "in front of the senior officials" changes the situation quite a bit.
Among the senior officials gathered at the castle, the largest group belonged to the Royalist Faction, but a fair number from the Neutral and Reformist Factions were also present. If they directly witnessed and heard the exchange between me and the King, the story would automatically spread to their respective faction colleagues. In other words, it would be perceived that I had strengthened ties with the Royalist Faction. That's probably what Lady Maria meant by "being used unilaterally."
It's really something I should have realized from the start. At this point, if they're going to worry about things like that, I'd rather they care more about coming to my home in a carriage and relaxing freely in the living room.
While prodding the King with these thoughts, I worked on finalizing the plans for the day after tomorrow.
Incidentally, I heard that the busiest people were the staff in the crest management department, whom the King had personally visited to give instructions. Since it was a direct order from the country's top leader and time was short, they mobilized over a dozen staff members to get the work done.
The only saving grace was that I had already decided the most troublesome part—the base design of the crest—and left everything else entirely up to them.