CHAPTER 11: NAMING

"Since they still aren't retreating, let's just have them stay and become my materials!"

Granstar stepped forward, his voice cold and cruel, his figure shrinking to the size of a slender young elf. Frost clung to the air around him, thickening by the second.

"Hey, hey, Granstar, calm down! There's no need to go that far," Rimuru called out, bouncing anxiously in his slime form.

"Then what do you suggest?" Granstar said with a sharp glance.

The Dire Wolves were trembling, the ground beneath them slick with ice. Their fur was dusted white with frost, and their breath came out in weak, ragged puffs.

The leader — a larger wolf with a streak of white fur beneath its chin — tried to speak, but its throat was stiff and frozen.

"We... actually..." it rasped out, managing to lift its head with great difficulty.

The poor wolf was nearly in tears.

In truth, the Dire Wolves had already lost their fighting spirit long ago.

Facing two monsters like this — one who casually froze the earth and another who had just casually wiped out an entire goblin village — what was even the point of resisting?

They wanted to surrender! But the cold had locked up their bodies and even their voices.

All the leader could do was stare at Granstar with pleading eyes, silently begging for mercy.

"Oh? You still dare to glare at us?" Granstar sneered, raising a hand ominously. "Perfect. I'm a bit short on crafting materials anyway!"

"Ah~, Granstar, please don't overreact!" Rimuru protested. "Maybe it's just brave! Yeah, brave!"

Granstar's eyes gleamed dangerously. That white-furred wolf — he recognized it.

In the original timeline, this wolf would become Ranga, Rimuru's personal companion.

Granstar wasn't truly planning to kill them — but scaring them a little was fine, right?

With a smirk, Granstar gathered a chilling magic at his fingertips.

Seeing this, Ranga's eyes bulged in horror.

I'm not brave! I'm just trying not to die! Why is that beautiful but terrifying elf trying to kill me?!

Dad, forgive me — I'm surrendering!

Finally, through sheer willpower, Ranga thawed enough of his frozen throat to cry out:

"We... We are willing to submit! Please, don't kill us! We surrender!"

The entire Dire Wolf pack lowered their heads in submission, tails tucked between their legs.

"Haha! Granstar, you see? They surrendered! Stop scaring them already!" Rimuru bounced over, transforming back into his human form in a flash. "Quick, help them thaw out, or they'll really freeze to death!"

"Tch," Granstar clicked his tongue, reluctantly waving his hand to cancel the frost magic. Warm air gently swept over the wolves, freeing them from their icy prison.

Still, he shot Ranga a playful yet dangerous look. Not bad, he thought. This one managed to partially resist my magic on its own. It has potential.

Thus, nearly a hundred Dire Wolves formally joined Rimuru's growing forces.

Later...

"Hmm, none of you have names yet? That's a bit inconvenient..." Rimuru muttered, tapping his chin.

He glanced at the gathering of goblins and Dire Wolves.

Naming them would take forever...

And once he gave them names, they'd evolve, which would consume a huge amount of magicules. It was going to be a massive ordeal.

Still, Rimuru puffed out his nonexistent chest with pride.

As the new leader, he couldn't back down now!

"Alright! I'll give you all names!" Rimuru declared.

The goblin village chief — an old goblin with a hunched back — immediately dropped to his knees, overwhelmed.

"Truly, Lord Rimuru is merciful!"

The surrounding goblins and Dire Wolves cheered, tails wagging furiously.

"Okay, Village Chief, get everyone lined up. Goblins first, then wolves!" Rimuru ordered. He mentally braced himself for the headache that was about to come.

Off to the side, Granstar lay lazily on a sun-warmed rock, basking like a cat.

Despite being an ice-attribute elf, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy the sunshine.

Rimuru shot him a glare.

This guy! He's totally acting like an outsider!

He wanted to stomp over and drag Granstar into helping, but...

honestly, he doubted he could beat Granstar in a straight fight right now.

Upon realizing that Rimuru was about to start naming the goblins — just like in the original storyline — Granstar panicked. Without hesitation, he shrank down into a tiny elf, barely the size of a child's palm, and quickly darted out of sight.

Granstar, who prided himself on practicality, felt it was a huge waste to squander magicules on a bunch of monsters whose strength hadn't even reached the equivalent of C-rank materials. Naming them? No way — only a soft-hearted guy like Rimuru would even consider it.

He thought, Even if I tried to stop him, knowing Rimuru's nature, he'd still go through with it.

Meanwhile, the goblins, swept up in their excitement, failed to notice the small figure flashing past.

[Great Sage]: "Analysis: Should I intervene? … Dilemma detected. ( ˃ ʍ ˂ )"

Rimuru, smiling brightly, clapped his hands.

"Alright! Line up, one by one! Elders first! Village Chief, you're up!"

Stepping forward nervously, the goblin leader bowed low.

"You shall be called... Rigurd!"

Tears welled up in the old goblin's eyes.

"Thank you, Lord Rimuru! Thank you so much!"

Rimuru beamed. Look at how happy they are! They're so pure and honest... just giving them a name makes them this joyful!

He continued naming them one after another:

"You'll be Goblin... You'll be Gobdin... You'll be Gob-Slayer! Ooh, that one sounds cool!"

As the process went on, Rimuru's creativity — and energy — began to dwindle. His names grew increasingly random and disjointed.

By the time he finished naming the very last goblin, Rimuru staggered. His vision swam, the world tilted — and then, splat — he collapsed into a puddle of blue slime.

"Uh... wha... what's happening? Why am I... so sleepy...?"

[Great Sage]: "Warning: Host's magicule reserves are critically low. Structural integrity compromised. Initiating forced sleep mode... Estimated recovery time: three days."

The voice of the Great Sage echoed mechanically in Rimuru's mind.

"No way..."

Panic erupted among the goblins.

"Lord Rimuru! What's wrong?! Why have you turned into a puddle?!"

"Don't just stand there, go get Lord Granstar!!" Rigurd — now looking far more impressive thanks to his evolution — shouted urgently.

"Right! Lord Granstar—!"

The goblin turned to look — only to find the spot where Granstar had been basking in the sun completely empty.

"Eh? Where's Lord Granstar?"

Meanwhile, not far away...

Granstar — still tiny — perched on a roof beam, clicking his tongue and sighing.

"Tsk tsk... Poor Rimuru. Burning through that much magicule just to name goblins... Now he's out cold for three days!"

Granstar chuckled as he watched the goblins build a small, makeshift shrine in the village center to "enshrine" the unconscious Rimuru. They even stuck three incense sticks in front, offering prayers with solemn faces.

"Pfft... Hahaha! What's with the incense sticks? They're treating him like a guardian deity!"

He rested his chin on his tiny hands, watching the scene unfold with great amusement.

Just then, a huge shadow loomed over him.

"Lord Granstar, do you think Lord Rimuru will be alright?"

Granstar looked up — and couldn't help but whistle in surprise.

Standing before him was Rigurd — but it was hard to recognize him. The formerly frail goblin elder had undergone a drastic transformation after receiving his name: he now towered over others, his frame broad and powerful, his skin healthy and robust.

"Whoa... Naming really does cause a full racial evolution," Granstar thought, amazed.