The Sorcerer King of Destruction and the Golem of the Barbarian Queen

"No......! I didn't expect you to meet anyone but me in a place like this."

He has opened the door wide and spoken friendlily.

A man with round glasses who seems to be a good person.

On his right ear, he has a large blue and green crystal ear decoration.

Obviously not a Japanese face, but it doesn't seem to be an elf for now either. I have normal ears.

He was looking at me with a gentle smile, but then he glanced at Gore standing behind me, opened his eyes and opened his mouth gently.

Only breathe, often silent.

But I coughed right up and went back to my original soft look.

"Well, what are you standing here talking about? Come on, come on, come inside."

He was the one who kindly tried to lead me into the house, but he looked like he noticed something shortly afterwards and laughed lightly.

"That said, I was just renting it here tonight, too, and I'm not a landlord."

He came to a space like a living room with a fireplace while being taken by a man.

It really feels like a simple wooden house due to the lack of strange interior furniture.

"I didn't expect the Earth Kid (Ground Goblin) variant to be trekking this far... Thanks to you, by the time you get here, it's like you're here. I was going to remember my arm."

His clothes, whining like tired, were torn wide open.

If you look closely, some of the round glasses are also broken and contain cracks.

Or some parts of the clothing are seeping blood. So, are you okay?

Because of this look and exhausted complexion, I had the impression that I was a tired middle-aged man, but at my actual age, maybe a little younger.

Hmm? Earthgoblin? What is that?

I've only seen monkeys on the road so far...

At this time, though, I was in a hurry.

Me and me, we need to talk about something fast...

By the way, I had already noticed that I could speak the language of this world without any problems, just like reading letters. Because the words that come out of my mouth when I speak to Gore were always strange languages.

Therefore, the problem in this case is not my language skills.

This is the first time I've come across this world, an intelligent-style uncle who seems like a good person.

For me, it's one of the easiest types of races to talk to.

But all my minds stood first when I met a white bone corpse, and conversational simulations when I met a living person in this world were not done at all.

There was no longer a complete communal handicap.

I squeezed out words desperately.

"I see, that's disastrous..."

Hey, what a disaster!? That's the first sound! I feel like I've had a few more thoughtful words while I'm at it!

It was me who regretted speaking early, but the man in front of me seemed reassured that this one had expressed his intention to have a conversation.

The gentle smile of a man with glasses added a touch of brightness.

If I were Madam, it would be a falling scene.

"You're late to name it. My name is Semau Speria. I'm an assistant professor at the Imperial School of Magic. Nice to meet you."

Makes you feel intelligent, round glasses. And this noble spirituality, which, despite being in a certain social position, kindly raises the name ahead of a young man with a communal handicap like me.

At this time, I felt a definite smell of a culturalist from this old man named Speria.

Then I must thank you, too, as a servant of another culture.

"This is me, excuse my late name. My name is..."

And stiff.

Shit.

I didn't know your name, me.

The true yawning of the way my memory is missing is actually here.

If you don't dare be aware, you don't realize the very fact that your memory is missing.

I was in a hurry.

I don't even know enough to think of a pseudonym right now.

Of all the names in this world that I know, only “Lübeu Zailain” is confirmed as a male name. There are several reasons for judging his gender, but his clothing is particularly decisive. All the clothes I now possess belong to Zaylane except for the nasty bedtime clothes I originally had, but this guy's clothes are obviously male, and they fit almost exactly the size I wear.

But from the flashy background I've seen in the book, that guy is usually a celebrity potential. I mean, even though it's a pseudonym, my pride would never allow me to name that shit.

But what do we do? I don't even know my name. I don't even know the name of my family.

There is not even an object that defines one's existence.

A rushed fingertip touches the bag at hand.

The remnants of the original world that I have, in my bag, are all I have left of these nasty pyjamas.

Such a yellow cat...... no, was it Tanuki? Anyway, aside from the pointless yellow mystery animals printed, unsaveably damned nasty bedtime outfits, how many are left for this me?

What exactly is my identity...

Me shivering my fists in repentance.

But at this moment, I switched my head.

Switching fast is my virtue.

Let's think the other way around.

Yeah, it's not like I'm left with nothing.

Instead, can I say that I still have this nasty bedtime outfit?

Probably not what he is, such as a guy wearing such a dying fucking dusty pajama.

I'm sorry to wear this in public, and I almost lost my mind about buying it.

Isn't this nasty bedtime outfit no longer one personality?

Let's be clear. At this time, I was half screwed.

I looked up slowly.

"... my name is Nemaki Dasai."

I answered with a tight voice, stretching my spine.

Look straight at them with clear eyes without hesitation.

grandiose, and bold.

Yes. It's called, it's a vanity.

From the back, I feel a glimmer of Gore's hot gaze.

Yeah, I know you're this keen believer in my naming sense.

"Nemaki, is that you? But what is Dasai...... Around here, you don't hear the family name."

What!? Was Nemaki usually safe!?

Nevertheless, the name of this world follows the name of the family after the name of the individual.

As a matter of fact, I was going to call myself "Dasai Nemaki" earlier, as I felt in Japanese. Approximately in a "Tasai" mood.

But the words of this world that came out of my mouth turned the order upside down at will.

Speria's old man looked down at me like he was thinking something, then glanced at the gore behind him and then nodded.

"I see you're from the East....... I guess there are a lot of profound circumstances called having such a diocesan golem. Guess what."

Well, it's been perceived...

It would be a complete snake to ask him what he guessed here.

No longer, we just have to talk.

------

Judging from the content of the conversation that followed, there has apparently been a long period of fighting between small countries in the east.

And thank God I lost the war and got chased after the country, there is a verse that supposedly belongs to a magician's house.

I was like, "Yeah, yeah, I am," and we talked about it appropriately.

I'm a little worried that you haven't said something unnatural.

But the old man in Speria doesn't seem particularly suspicious either.

In the first place, maybe he's just looking after him, and he's not going to pry into the circumstances. I still feel like a cultural person around here.

"And I don't know what to say... wow. Nemaki, your golem. I'm not specialized in golems, but I know I'm not the only one at first glance."

He seems more intrigued by the gore he's taking than by my origins.

Oh, I knew it? Do you understand, there's a difference.

That's right, this is the golem I'm proud of.

"Thank you. I'm a proud partner. His name is Goletaro."

Introduce yourself under your real name. This is basic.

The old man in Speria got a look that made him think deeply of something for a moment.

Indeed, the present beauty goddess Elf Greek sculptural appearance is an isolated real name.

I know how you feel.

No, but this look of him seems subtly different from the feeling that he's baffled by weird naming...

What the hell is that?

The man's expression had already returned to its original softness.

"" Goletalu ”? That's the name of the goddess of battle called the Barbarian Queen. That's a really good name."

……!!!

No! It's Goletaro!

That said, I had already noticed.

"Goletaro" sounds like "Goletaro" to people in this world, maybe.

Perhaps because pronunciation is adjusted to its natural form in this world, unique nouns such as human names are sometimes subtly changing their pronunciation from the original world.

In short, "peach taro" also becomes "momotalu".

But I took pride in the name of Goletaro, which I've thought about my whole life.

Try to be aware of the end of the phrase and be clear about it.

"Yeah, our“ Goletaro ”is a brave and dependable one. Exactly the goddess of battle. Without this guy, we wouldn't have made it this far."

Speria's old man nods as convinced. Oh, did you pass it on?

"Earthlings are warcraft like natural enemies to us magicians. Nemaki, from what I've seen, it's not the wind of a warrior, and I was wondering if that“ goletalu ”has any secrets."

It wasn't passed on......

But I'm a man who won't break easily.

"My“ Goletaro ”is just invincible. I'm an invincible goddess. I can't imagine losing at all."

Every time I praise him, Gore's body softens and loosens, and he keeps following me closer and closer.

But not quite. I'm in the middle of a serious fight with pride right now.

"Ha ha. It's a fancy thing! But... Hmm, I see. I hear that some cathedral golems that are not just noble hobbies have very high performance objects.“ Goletalu, "that's exactly why."

No. Do you still say goletalu?

No, not yet. My heart isn't broken yet.

"Hey, I'm really too strong for Goletaro already, and I'm almost like a" Goletaro ”hippo."

Gore's, soft and somehow feverish body keeps creeping up on my back.

But that's not good for me right now.

"There is no humility. If the strength of the Golem you serve is the strength of the Golem users. If the performance of Goletalu is great, that's proof that Nemaki is so good."

Why, why...

Is it impossible to share my nice sense of naming with the people of this world...

"... thank you. Praise me, Gore...... Taru...... I think I'm happy too......"

My heart is finally broken.

I surrounded the fireplace fire that started with the patsy, and had dinner with the old man from Speria.

He feels like a boulder traveler, sophisticated in his gear and the food he carries.

It's not the same as me just blurring up preserved food in a cluttered backing cage like the one made by the primitives.

My old man gave me a split like a cabbage vinegar pickle.

It doesn't taste bad.

I gave him some cheese to thank.

He was so happy that it was good cheese.

Incidentally, the old man in Speria lightly ignited the firewood in the fireplace with fire magic.

It was a moment.

Much faster than Gore's fast fire.

I represent earthly magic and trembled in defeat.

But he also opened his eyes to Gore, who would cook a lovely meal next to me.

Hih, we beat fire magic......!

Now probably the overall result of the game, it's mutual.

I haven't drummed my tongue at a meal that has conversations with people in a long time.

According to what I heard as the two men chickened over the fruit liquor that the old man of Spain had, he came all the way from Imperial Capital to be single to do an investigation into the dirt spills over into the land.

However, to a situation on the scene that is more than expected, it is determined that no further investigation can be continued. Looks like he was going to turn back to the city tomorrow.

Seriously, isn't this the one called Nice Timing?

Finally, why don't you take me with you to the city?

"Um, will you let me accompany you, too? Minutes, I don't like the land around here. I only have old maps."

The old man from Speria took on this offer of mine at ease.

"Oh, sure. I just want to ask you to follow my baton so I can get there unharmed."

Thus did I attach the promise of the same path to the city to this charming man.

This fruit liquor is quite delicious even so. What the hell is that fruit?

When I realized it, it seemed like the night was already long overdue.

The outdoors, visible through small light windows, are covered in plenty of deep darkness.

"So it's time for me to go to bed. It's dangerous not to wake up before sunrise."

I think the old man in Speria is probably referring to the monkey threat to start working with the sunrise. True, if those monkeys attacked me where I was sleeping, I'd have to blah blah blah blah.

But I have Gore's mystery radar, so I was completely alert and devoured of sleeping late every day.

Will I be able to get up early? Quite anxious.

The old man prepared a sleeping bag and began to sleep in the corner of the room.

I put the fireplace in the opposite corner of the room and wrapped it around the blanket.

Gore, sitting next to me, naturally accompanies me to sleep and tries to hug me.

"Thanks Gore. But it's warm in here, so you don't have to."

Yes, this room is warm enough, thanks to the fireplace.

Gore is sweet, so he thought I'd catch a cold when he slept on the floor, and he probably cared.

But it's okay. As long as I sleep indoors, I don't need an escort like I did yesterday.

Tonight I am no longer an indolent person who can't sleep without a hug in Lord Knight's arms.

Nevertheless, blah blah blah, I'm honest that the act of being held and sleeping like a baby in front of someone else, the old man of Speria, was embarrassing as an adult......

But to this attitude of mine, Gore was stiff for a few seconds.

Shortly afterwards, he began releasing his freezing killer, aiming at the sleeping old man's back.

Not good.

I'm not sure exactly what's wrong.

Though I am provoking an inexperienced killer, I don't even think that my proud gore, kind and caring heart, would do anything terrible to others.

One incident with the Golems in the cathedral during the day was caused by my partner's behavior that misled me into a state of light panic due to stress. It's obvious that I'm responsible for everything. If you're a regular sweet gore, that's never gonna happen.

But why not? It's like when I fall asleep like this, I'm all over the darkness of the night and something terrible happens... I have a feeling about that.

But I don't know what to do.

Besides, I was already tired and sleepy, to be honest, because of all the things that happened today.

I grabbed Gore's wrist with disappointment so I could grab the dog's root.

Gore's killing spirit, which was swelling violently, gradually weakened.

I was relieved and drowsy and began to let go of my consciousness.

The two hands overlapped because of the power I pulled out of Gore's wrist.

At the same time, I felt her thin fingers start to move and become moist and tangled in my fingers as I suddenly did for some reason.

What did you call this way of holding hands...

I fell into the middle of nowhere thinking about it.