Chương 64: Return to Grinding
Cosmic Archmage [A Mutation LitRPG] {STUBBING: August 17} · Riverside · 100 chương · ~10 phút đọc · Tạo 05/07/2026
LANCE couldn't believe it — he had forgotten, totally, about his familiar, the Holy King Slime. He felt bad he had forgotten; it was his familiar, after all.
"Slimy," he said, calling it by a pet term for the first time.
"I apologize for my absence. I have had academic and training responsibilities in my human world. I will be more attentive from here out, I promise. And though I cannot stay long before I charter a course back to the academy, I am interested in knowing how you fared in my absence. Tell me everything!"
Slimy bubbled — by which he meant, bubbles inside of Slimy floated to his top — and gushed about all that happened; which was not much, actually: because of their oaths, the ex-bandits stayed on the course and kept busy in building collective and individual housing while tearing down their old buildings soaked through with sin; it was actually those converts who were of the former captive population which started the most trouble, with several having bones to pick with the former bandits.
Thankfully, though, between Slimy and his two appointed sub-commanders, those troublemakers were stopped and punished before real harm could be done.
"I knew something like this would happen, Slimy. I should have been more explicit before I left. It does appear you handled yourself well. Please, gather everyone for a group meeting. We have much to discuss." Slimy bubbled furiously and rushed away to fulfill the work of his master. An hour after he arrived, all the ex-bandits and all of the ex-slaves assembled in the former castle of the bandit king. It had since been cleaned of all gore and bodies, though had a lingering scent unpleasant to the nose and soul.
"Thank you for coming, everyone. Slimy tells me of how you have been in my absence. Aside from the trouble of a couple of dissenters, it appears you all have kept to your oaths and intend on fulfilling your pledge. This is good! It fills me with warmth to see men dedicated to changing their lives." He looked around at the assembled people. From weeks ago, they all looked unrecognizable. Clean shaven, tidy beards, clothes which weren't bloody, stained rags. Incredible!
"Now," he continued.
"We have a task before us. None of you know this but a monster called a Horror is approaching our planet. This monster has the capabilities to end all life as we know it. My father, the Omni-Wizard Warhol the Great, has formed a grand international alliance to tackle this threat. Part of this alliance extends to even the dragonkin, who thanks in part to my actions, will be sending an elite force to this island to train with us. Converts, compatriots, friends, this is not optional.
From this time on, we are an army, and all of you will show me you are worthy of fighting for this planet's survival if you wish to continue living on this island!" Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Gasps, awes, and grunted questions filled the room once he finished talking. Most couldn't believe what he said and sat in silent stupefaction. Others shouted for clarity — surely, he was joking! Alas, he was not.
After some minutes of pacifying the crowd, and informing them repeatedly that he was, in fact, serious, they settled down.
"I do not expect this to be a pleasant experience for you all. And for those of you who used to be enslaved, here, I will not demand you pick a blade up and fight should you not desire it. You remain your own person, after all, which is a far-cry from the burden your former bandit masters owe. However, for everyone else, participation is mandatory. Every ex-bandit here has fighting skills. It is time to use those skills but for good!"
He gave his men some time to adjust to their new reality — a Horror from Beyond fast approaching their world; trainings with dragons; and a mandatory bandit army. It would have been a lot for anyone to accept, let alone humble people from criminal backwaters.
"Sir, sir!" a scout told him, rushing in from outside.
"An emissary from the academy has come! He says he is here to 'adjudicate' the island. He wants to speak with our leader!" He told the guard he would meet the academy man and went off to make their acquittance. True to the guard's word, the man wore his academy's colors. His robe was of fine dyed silk, and he had many rings and amulets upon him. Although many people at the academy had humble incomes, clearly, this man did not. He approached the man and held his hand out to shake.
The adjudicator shook his hand and introduced himself.
"My name is Leo Neo. I am the academy's adjudicator. You are Lance Chaucer, yes? I'm surprised to see you here. I assumed you would be back on campus, preparing for mid-terms." Until the man with the funny name had said it, Lance had forgotten about mid-terms. Crap! He should've studied more! Oh well. What's done is done. He needed to take the bull by the horns here and now.
"I will return post-haste, but I am just getting off a training session with my father, so I decided to pop in here real quick and learn how the island has fared in my absence. Overall? Rather well!"
"That is nice to hear," Leo Neo said.
"Fair, of course, will be the bare minimum if you wish to see high marks from me. Please, show me your island's distinctive features so that we might begin my assessment. Do keep in mind, my impressions now will determine where the academy invests in your island and connects it to the larger monastic organization." He bowed.
"Of course, sire. Please, this way to our castle."
