Reincarnated as a Skill

4.Goblin Village and Dwargon

In front of this line of goblins, I summoned the direwolves. "Um, okay," I began, "from now on, I'm gonna have you all form pairs and live with each other, all right?"

Then I gauged the response. I didn't get much of one. They were waiting for me to continue, I guessed, not making a single sound as they stared at me. Nobody seemed to openly grimace at the idea of pairing up, at least, so I assumed I was on decent enough ground.

"Uh, do you understand what I mean? Like, groups of two, okay? Get to it!"

The moment I finished speaking, the goblins and the direwolves began exchanging glances with whoever was in front of them. Slowly and meekly, they followed my order. Yesterday's enemy is today's friend, and all that. They had to learn that the hard way, but at least everyone was on board.

Then I noticed something. Hang on, do any of these guys have names at all? How are they supposed to call for each other and stuff? What a pain in the ass.

"Elder," I said as I watched the pairing process unfold to my side, "it's too inconvenient for me to refer to you and your people. I'd like to give names to you all. Would that be all right?"

Everyone must have heard me somehow. Right at the word names, every single one of them was locked on to me—even the nonfighting goblins, clearly thrown by this turn of events.

"Are...are you sure...?" the elder timidly asked.

What's the big deal, huh?

"Y-yeah, um... If it's not a problem, I'd like to give out some names?"

"Sir Rimuru," the newly christened Rigurd plaintively asked, "we are so, so appreciative of this, but...are... Are you sure?" 

"About what?"

"I mean, I am fully aware of the extent of your magical powers, Sir Rimuru, but...providing all of these names in one go... Will you be all right?"

What's he talking about? I'm just handing out names to folks.

"Mm?" I replied. "No, no problem, I don't think." Then I went back to it. Rigurd raised his eyebrows for a moment, but I paid him no further mind.

Once I was done with the goblins, it was time to move on to the direwolves. Their new leader would be the son of the old one—just as strong (and strong willed) as his father, and already looking every bit as stately.

Peering into his gold-colored eyes, I thought for a moment. Hmm. How about Ranga? That combines the Japanese characters for storm and fang into one peppy little word. Perfect! Cheap, maybe, but I rolled with it. I'm the Tempest; he's got fangs...

Whatever came to mind first was best, I figured. This wasn't my forte.

The moment I named him Ranga, I began to feel as if practically all the magicules flowing through my body were draining out of it. The sense of hollowness—of the violent emptying of my innards—was mind blowing. What... What's going on? It was a fatigue like none I'd felt before.

<<Dumb master, you have nearly ran out of magicules, you will be awake in three days>>

>>Wait did I just get insulted? And what do you mean? I don't need to sle-<<

Three Days Later

R E C O V E R E D !

Despite depleting my magic earlier, I felt stronger and more magic-rich than I had before my little accident. Magic was the power to exert force upon the world, and the particles around me were the energy driving it. That seemed to be about the extent of it.