Chapter 6: The Sovereign's Audit
"Minister Vesta," I pulse, the words vibrating through the floorboards. "You are currently interrupting a private executive retreat. The penalty for this 'overhead' is going to be... substantial."
Vesta's face contorts. He isn't just angry anymore; he's desperate. He's looking at the elven hostesses, then at Kaijin, then finally at the dark, hovering slime—me—holding a glass of wine via a localized telekinetic field.
"Seize them!" Vesta shrieks. "The blacksmith is a traitor, and these monsters are his accomplices!"
The guards hesitate. They aren't stupid. They can feel the [Transaction Domain] pushing against their sternums, a heavy, cold weight that whispers about the cost of an incorrect decision.
"Wait," a voice booms from the entrance.
The crowd of guards parts. A dwarf walks in. He isn't wearing a cape. He isn't screaming. He doesn't need to. This is the King of the Armed Nation, Gazel Dwargo.
Warning. High-density magicule signature detected. Entity: Gazel Dwargo. Classification: Hero-tier/King. Probability of physical survival in direct conflict: 0.04%.
Azathoth, thanks for the optimism. I wasn't planning on fighting him anyway. Kings are just CEOs with better security detail. We don't fight CEOs; we negotiate.
I lower my wine glass. I don't drop it. Dropping things is for the panicked.
"King Gazel," I pulse, tilting my slime body forward in a gesture that is precisely 15 degrees—the exact angle of respect for a peer-level executive who isn't currently signing your paycheck. "I assume you're here to settle the Minister's outstanding debts?"
Gazel ignores me for a moment. He looks at Kaijin, then at Rimuru, and finally his gaze settles on me. It's a piercing look. He's trying to read my "soul," but all he's going to find is a very organized ledger and a deep desire for a more comfortable chair.
"Vesta," Gazel says, his voice like grinding tectonic plates. "You claim these slimes are a threat? One is a master smith, and the other is... whatever this one is."
"They are monsters, Your Majesty!" Vesta cries, snatching a nearby glass and hurling it toward Rimuru.
Kaijin doesn't think. He punches Vesta. Square in the face.
The silence that follows is heavy. It's the sound of a career ending in real-time.
Notice. Violence initiated by Kaijin. Legal standing: Compromised. Strategic Shift: Transition to damage control.
"The trial will be held immediately," Gazel declares.
The courtroom is cold. It's grand, sure, but the lack of padding on the prisoner's stand is a human rights violation.
Rimuru is standing—bouncing—next to Kaijin. I am hovering slightly above the stand. I'm not being "held." I am "consulting."
Vesta is lying. He's spinning a tale of coercion and monster-magic. It's a boring pitch. No data. All emotion.
Azathoth, give me a scan on the King's reaction.
Analysis. Gazel Dwargo is using [Sense Heat/Pressure] and [Mind Reading]. He is currently discerning the truth. Recommendation: Remain transparently pragmatic.
"Enough," Gazel interrupts. He looks at Kaijin. "You struck a Minister. The law is absolute. You and your men are exiled from Dwargon."
Kaijin bows his head. Rimuru looks worried. I, however, see the upside.
"A fair severance package," I pulse, my voice echoing in the silent court. "Exile is simply the termination of a non-compete clause. Kaijin is now a free agent. And since we provided the capital for his recent success, he will be joining our conglomerate."
Gazel looks at me. A small, almost imperceptible smirk touches his lips. "You have a strange way of looking at the world, slime."
"It's called 'Return on Investment', Your Majesty. Dwargon's loss is Tempest's gain. Although, I would like to request my cart back before we leave. It's currently in state custody, and I have a sentimental attachment to the wood quality."
Gazel chuckles. It's a terrifying sound. "Granted. But leave now. Before I decide your 'value' to my kingdom is too high to let go."
Notice. Exile finalized. Destination: Sealed. Magicule Reserves: 99.0%. Status: Leaving Dwargon with new assets (Kaijin and brothers).
"Well," I transmit to Rimuru as we head toward the gate, my internal Deadpool doing a victory lap. "We went in for a blacksmith and came out with a whole engineering department. Not a bad day's work, Boss. Now, find me someone who can build a bed. I'm done with the floor."
Current Magicule Reserves: 99.0%. Location: Dwargon Gate (Exit). Status: Proceeding toward the Great Forest of Jura.